A SHORT-LIVED PEACE
ATHANASIUS was quick to take advantage of the decree which allowed the
banished Bishops to return to their sees. On the way to Alexandria he
stopped to talk over matters with other noble exiles who, like
himself, had suffered for the Truth. Many of the faithful had been
compelled by force or induced by threats or persuasion to accept the
creed of the Arians; what was to be done in order that these weak ones
might be brought back to the Faith?
Athanasius and those who with him had been ready to give their lives
for the Truth being, like all brave and noble men, gentle and
compassionate, they resolved to make it as easy as possible. They
announced that absolution would be given freely to all who accepted
the Creed of Nicea. Those who had fallen away were mostly good men and
true believers who had yielded in a moment of weakness or of fear, or
who had been deceived by the protestations of the Arians. They had
been thoroughly miserable, but now the proclamation of Athanasius set
them free from what had seemed like a bad dream. The Pope himself
expressed his approval of Athanasius' forbearance, and the Bishops of
the West hastened to follow his example.
In other places, Antioch and Constantinople especially, Arianism had
taken deeper root. These were the strongholds of heresy, where the
spirit of Eusebius of Nicomedia still prevailed. Men of his stamp were
not likely to be ready to enter into communion with that Athanasius
whom they had looked upon for years as their mortal enemy, nor was it
to be expected that they would allow the true Faith to prevail without
a struggle. It was thanks to Athanasius and his untiring efforts that
Egypt and Alexandria were still, in the main, true to the Catholic
Church.
We can imagine the joy with which the Alexandrians received their
exiled Patriarch after his six years' absence. They had been worthy of
their Bishop, for they too had made a brave fight for the Faith. Blood
had been shed for Christ, and much had been suffered by the Catholics;
they could face their Patriarch without shame. Many pagans who had
watched the behavior of the Christians under persecution now came
forward and asked to join the Church, among them some Greek ladies of
noble family whom Athanasius himself instructed and baptized.
News of this reached the ears of the Emperor Julian, who was already
furious at the influence that this Christian Bishop of Alexandria was
exercising throughout the whole empire. He had hoped that Athanasius'
return from exile would have been a cause for division among the
people, instead of which it had been the signal for everyone to make
peace with his neighbor. Never, he foresaw, as long as the voice of
this undaunted champion of the Catholic Church was ringing in the ears
of his subjects, would paganism triumph.
There were others who saw the matter in the same light. These were the
magicians, diviners, fortune-tellers, all the servants of idolatry who
had risen up at Julian's bidding and were swarming in Alexandria as
everywhere else. The presence of Athanasius in their midst, they
complained to the Emperor, was the ruin of their trade. Even their
charms would not work as long as he was near them. There would soon
not be a pagan left in the city if he were allowed to remain.
The Patriarch had been barely eight months in Alexandria when the
Governor of Egypt received a message from his royal master. "Nothing
that I could hear of would give me greater pleasure," he wrote, "than
the news that you have driven that miscreant out of the country."
Soon after, the Alexandrians themselves were addressed. "We have
allowed the Galileans," wrote Julian, "to return to their country, but
not to their churches. Nevertheless, we hear that Athanasius, with his
accustomed boldness, has replaced himself on what they call his
'episcopal throne.' We therefore order him to leave the town at once
or take the consequences."
The Governor of Egypt, who knew the affection of the Alexandrians for
their Patriarch, dared not take any steps against him; the citizens in
the meantime had addressed a letter to the Emperor, begging him to
reconsider the matter and to leave Athanasius in his see. This only
served to anger Julian the more.
"I am painfully surprised that you Alexandrians," he wrote, "who have
the great god Serapis and Isis his Queen for your patrons, should ask
permission to keep such a man in your midst. I can only hope that
those of the citizens who are wiser have not been consulted and that
this is the action of a few. I blush to think that any of you could
call himself a Galilean. I order Athanasius to leave not only
Alexandria, but Egypt."
The Governor also received a curt message.
"If the enemy of the gods, Athanasius, remains in Egypt after the
kalends of December," it ran, "you and your troops shall pay a hundred
pounds in gold. The gods are despised and I am insulted."
Julian, however, had not much confidence in the Governor, or in the
Alexandrians either. In order to make things doubly sure, messengers
of his own were sent to Alexandria with orders to put the Patriarch to
death.
The people were inconsolable, but Athanasius comforted them. "This
time it is only a passing cloud," he said; "it will soon be over."
Then, recommending his flock to the most trusted of his clergy, he
left the city, an exile once more. It was not a moment too soon.
Scarcely had he vanished when the messengers of Julian arrived.
"Where is Athanasius?" they asked; but a grim silence was the only
answer.
The Patriarch, in the meantime, had reached the Nile; on the banks of
the river a boat was waiting; he entered it, and they rowed swiftly
upstream toward the Thebaid.
It was a dangerous moment, but the faithful were watching. A message
was brought to the fugitives that soldiers of the Emperor who had
orders to seize and kill the Saint had learned his whereabouts and had
sworn to overtake him. They implored him to land and take refuge in
the desert.
"No," said Athanasius; "turn the boat's head and row toward
Alexandria." They thought he was mad, but dared not disobey his
orders.
"He who is for us is greater than he who is against us," he said,
smiling at their terrified faces. Presently the Imperial boat came in
sight, rowing hard in pursuit of the fugitive.
"Have you seen Athanasius? Is he far off?" they shouted, as the little
boat drew near.
"He is quite close," answered the Patriarch calmly; "press on."
The crew bent to their oars, the skiff was soon out of sight, but
needless to say they did not find their prey. As for Athanasius, he
continued his journey to Alexandria, where he landed once more,
remaining there for a few days in hiding before he set out for the
deserts of the Thebaid.
"The enemy of the gods" had been gotten rid of--for a time, at least,
but Julian had still to wait for the triumph of paganism. The gods
themselves seemed to be against him. Never had a year been so unlucky
as that which followed the banishment of Athanasius. There were
earthquakes everywhere; Nicea and Nicomedia were reduced to ruins and
Constantinople severely damaged. An extraordinary tidal wave swept
over the lower part of the city of Alexandria, leaving shells and
seaweed on the roofs of the houses. Famine and plague followed, and it
was remarked that the famine seemed to dog the steps of the Emperor
wherever he went. People dreaded his arrival in their city; at
Antioch, where he stayed for a considerable time, the sufferings were
terrible. Julian ordered sacrifices to the gods. So many white oxen
were slain that it was said that soon there would be none left in the
empire; but still things did not improve.
Julian had begun by being tolerant, but disappointment was making him
savage. It was all the fault of the Galileans, he declared. He ordered
the Christian soldiers in his army to tear the Cross from
Constantine's sacred standard, and he put them to death when they
refused. Many Christian churches were closed, and the sacred vessels
of the altar seized and profaned. Those who dared resist were
imprisoned or slain. Wine that had been offered to the gods was thrown
into the public wells and fountains, and all the food that was sold in
the markets was defiled in the same way. Two of his officers who
complained of this profanation were put to death--not for their
religion, Julian hastened to explain, but for their insolence.
The Emperor posed as a philosopher. His long, dirty nails and ragged,
uncombed hair and beard were intended to impress his subjects with the
wisdom of a man so absorbed in learning that he was above such things
as cleanliness. Unfortunately, they had just the opposite effect, and
the people made fun of him. They laughed at his sacrifices, where he
was often to be seen tearing open with his own hands the bleeding
victim to see if he could read inside the signs of success or failure.
They laughed at his writings in praise of the gods, where he
represented himself as receiving compliments from them all. They
laughed at his short stature, at his narrow shoulders and at the huge
steps he took in walking, as if, they said, he had been the near
relation of one of Homer's giants.
Julian revenged himself upon them in his writings satires in which
Constantine, the first Christian Emperor, was especially held up to
ridicule. The Galileans were at the bottom of this as of all other
contradictions, he declared, and continued to vent his spleen upon the
Christians. It was the last stand of ancient paganism before it died
out forever.