Chapter 9: The Golden Decade
9
The Golden Decade
Athanasius’s Roman exile came to an end in 345, when his replacement in Alexandria, Gregory, died in June of that year. The emperor of the West, Constans, used his influence with his brother Constantius to encourage the Eastern emperor to allow Athanasius to return to his see. The bishop arrived back home in the spring of 346. He had departed Rome the previous October but took a route that was not direct. His return trip to Alexandria was punctuated by a series of other visits as well as ecclesiastical and political meetings. It seems that Athanasius spent Easter 345 in Aquileia, as a guest of Bishop Fortunatian, where he had several productive interviews with Emperor Constans. Subsequently, Constans urged—and perhaps threatened—his brother Constantius to reinstate Athanasius in Alexandria. When the interloper bishop of Alexandria (Gregory) died, the way was open for Athanasius’s reinstatement, without undue turmoil—it seemed—and Constantius wrote three letters to Athanasius in which he invited him to return to Alexandria.441
Initially, Athanasius seemed to hesitate, and perhaps this explains the reason for the succession of letters from Constantius inviting him to return. But he subsequently began his homeward homeward journey. First, however, he went back to Rome, where Julius received him gladly and sent a warmly supportive letter to the church of Alexandria.442 Julius of Rome had received a letter from Ursacius and Valens, the under-emperors of the East. They wrote, “Since we previously . . . made many various charges against Athanasius, the bishop, by our letters, and although we have been urged persistently by the epistles of your excellency in this matter which we publicly alleged and have not been able to give a reason for our accusation, therefore, we now confess to your excellency in the presence of all the presbyters, our brethren, that all that you have heard concerning the aforesaid Athanasius is utterly false and fictitious, and in every way foreign to his nature. For this reason, we joyfully enter into communion with him . . .”443
Athanasius soon took his leave of Rome and headed east, meeting Constantius for the third time, in April 346, in Antioch of Syria. Athanasius was graciously received, and took opportunity to ask for a public hearing of his case in order to clear his name in the imperial presence. Constantius demurred, saying that was not necessary. He promised that he would never again listen to any such accusations and that his purpose in this regard was fixed and unalterable. Athanasius recalled, “This he did not simply say, but sealed his words with oaths, calling upon God to be witness of them.”444 With this strong assurance Athanasius turned homeward, passing first through Antioch, where he visited for a time, and then Jerusalem, where a council met under Bishop Maximus to congratulate him and his church. The church of Jerusalem also sent the Alexandrian church a congratulatory letter.445 It was on the basis of these events that Athanasius felt free to return to his see. He arrived home on October 21, 346, and was warmly received: “He was thought to be worthy of a grand reception, for . . . the people and all those in authority met him a hundred miles distant and he continued in honor.”446 Socrates, the early church historian, left a more sobering recollection: “Athanasius came to Alexandria, and was most joyfully received by the people of the city. Nevertheless as many in it as had embraced Arianism, combining together, entered into conspiracies against him, by which frequent seditions were excited, affording a pretext to the Eusebians for accusing him to the emperor of having taken possession of the Alexandrian church on his own responsibility, in spite of the adverse judgment of a general council of bishops.”447
Thus began the so-called Golden Decade (346–56) of Athanasius’s ministry in Alexandria. It was “golden” in that it was a decade of almost uninterrupted service. His position during these early years was, as Kidd described it, “impregnable.”448 Initially, Emperor Constantius was too occupied with other imperial matters to trouble himself with Athanasius and Alexandria, and the bishop had the support of many of the populace, as well as the revered monks of the Egyptian desert. The Golden Decade was a time of sustained ministry and significant literary production for Athanasius.
Despite or because of the questionable legacy left by his predecessor, Bishop Gregory, Athanasius almost certainly had hard work to do in order to consolidate his rule and try to unify the church of Alexandria behind his leadership. The priests appointed by Gregory, for example, owed him no loyalty and might have been hostile to Athanasius’s rule. The new bishop’s Festal Letter for the year 347 suggests that there were difficulties stemming from clerics offering improper and unlawful “sacrifices.” Hence, in paragraph 2, for example, Athanasius reminded his church, “For actions not done lawfully and piously, are not of advantage, though they may be reputed to be so, but they rather argue hypocrisy in those who venture upon them. Therefore, although such persons feign to offer sacrifices, yet they hear from the Father, ‘Your whole burnt-offerings are not acceptable, and your sacrifices do not please Me . . .’”449
This was also a time in which Athanasius became more deeply involved in the work of Egyptian monasticism. Two of the shining lights of Egyptian monasticism, Pachomius and Antony of the Desert, were alive and practicing their respective ministries during the Golden Decade. Pachomius lived and worked at the beginning of it, and Antony in the later part of it. Antony (ca. 250–356) had become a monk around the year 270, initially near civilization, but fifteen years later—by 285—he had withdrawn to live a solitary life in the desert at Pispir by the Nile. After living there for nearly twenty years, in 305, during the time of the last great governmental persecution of the Christians in Egypt, Antony left his cave and organized a monastic community at the Inner Mount, near the Red Sea. Pachomius (ca. 292–346) was the champion of communal monasticism (as opposed to the solitary or semi-solitary life of the hermits) and more moderate monastic rules. He established his first monastery at Tabennesi, near Denderah, on the Nile, in the south of Egypt. With the lives and work of these two luminous examples of the monastic life, one can readily summarize and epitomize the early development of Christian monasticism, which came to full flower in Egypt during the life and ministry of Athanasius.450
Hence, Egyptian monasticism was in its prime when Athanasius was bishop of Alexandria. He had occasional visits to monastic centers and was deeply influenced by monastic spirituality at a personal level. He saw himself as both a disciple of and a spiritual heir to the great St. Antony of the Desert. Athanasius was considered “one of the ascetics” even by his opponents. In 333 he had visited the Thebaid region and the monastery at Tabennesi. In 338, during the bishop’s first return, Antony had visited Athanasius to offer his support and congratulations. In 340, during his exile to Rome, Athanasius took several Egyptian monks with him, and these helped him popularize monasticism in the West. When he returned from Rome, in 346, Athanasius was welcomed by a delegation from Tabennesi, who brought personal greetings from St. Antony. And Athanasius’s extant correspondence during the Golden Decade was entirely directed to Egyptian monastics. These were letters of instruction, encouragement, and guidance.
The Golden Decade also saw Athanasius bring liturgical and theological unity to Alexandria. While there were a few Arians and Meletians left in the city, the orthodox Christian message once again spread rapidly and widely among the populace. In fact, the crowds at Easter 355 were so huge that services had to be held in the partially completed new cathedral that had been begun by Gregory and was being built at imperial expense. This was also a time of ecclesiastical growth and expansion of the power of the Alexandrian see, because Athanasius ordained associate bishops and presbyters for surrounding regions.451
The Golden Decade was a period of almost uninterrupted productivity for Athanasius. This was particularly true with regard to his literary work. While it is always difficult to precisely date his compositions, several significant works seem to have been written during this period. The important Apologia contra Arianos (Defense Against the Arians), which we reviewed in the previous chapter, is sometimes assigned to this period.452 Two other important and interrelated works clearly stem from the early 350s, these being De decretis Nicaenae synodi (Defense of the Nicene Definition) and De sententia Dionysii (Defense of Dionysius), both of which are often dated to 352.453 The Apologia ad Constantium (Defense before Constantius), Ad Amun (Letter to Amun), and Ad Dracontium (Letter to Dracontius) all stem from later in this same period.
First we shall consider Athanasius’s Defense of the Nicene Definition. The “definition” here in the title refers to the Nicene Creed, which Athanasius esteemed and explained as a sound and official definition of the orthodox Christian faith. This treatise has three main contributions to make to our understanding of Athanasius and his thought; first, it reports on the proceedings of the Council of Nicaea, and becomes one of our few primary sources for our knowledge of what transpired at that critically important council. Second, it gives further information about other figures of the period (Dionysius, Theognostus, etc.), about whom little is otherwise known. And finally, it gives an extensive study of the terms homoousia (“same substance”), which was used in the Nicene Creed, and “uncreated” or “unoriginated” (Gk. agennetos), which the Arians used in their description of the relationship of the Father and the Son.454
De Decretis (Defense of the Nicene Definition) is comprised of seven long chapters, each one of which deals with one or two major assertions. The first chapter served as an introduction and registered the Arian complaints against the Nicene Creed. “Why did the Fathers at Nicaea use terms not in Scripture, ‘Of the essence’ [homoousia] and ‘One in essence’?” And then when that question was answered by learned men, they resorted to subterfuge and registered other complaints. This showed, Athanasius urged, that they were “variable and fickle in their sentiments,” and he compared the Arians unfavorably to the scribes and Pharisees of the Christian gospels who heard the words of Jesus and saw His mighty works, and still were able to “imagine a vain thing” (Ps 2:1) and resort to irreligion.455
Chapter 2 buttressed the argument of the preceding chapter by describing the conduct of “the Eusebians” at the Council of Nicaea. It is noteworthy that by this time in the development of the controversy, “Eusebians” and “Arians” had become synonymous terms in Athanasius’s mind. He wrote,
Now it happened to Eusebius and his fellows in the Nicene Council as follows:—while they stood out in their irreligion, and attempted their fight against God, the terms they used were replete with irreligion; but the assembled Bishops who were three hundred more or less, mildly and charitably required of them to explain and defend themselves on religious grounds. Scarcely, however, did they begin to speak, when they were condemned, and one differed from another; then perceiving the straits in which their heresy lay, they remained dumb, and by their silence confessed the disgrace which came upon their heterodoxy. On this the Bishops, having negatived the terms they had invented, published against them the sound and ecclesiastical faith; and, as all subscribed [to] it, Eusebius and his fellows subscribed [to] it also in those very words, of which they are now complaining, I mean, “of the essence” and “one in essence,” and that “the Son of God is neither creature or work, nor in the member of things originated, but that the Word is an offspring from the substance of the Father.”456
Athanasius then described the duplicity of Eusebius of Caesarea, who had initially sided with the Arians, but then made a public profession of their error and wrote a letter to his church to excuse his own conduct.457 The Alexandrian bishop completed this chapter by asking, “Are they not then committing a crime, in their very thought to gainsay so great and ecumenical a Council?” He not surprisingly concluded that they were committing an ecclesiastical crime and urged that they should indeed keep silent instead of diabolically advocating for irreligion.458
In chapter 3 of the Defense, Athanasius began to explore the Arians’ affirmation that the Word is the true Son of God. He noted that “Son” can be used in two ways, in terms of having a shared essence, or in the sense of being adopted by the Father; the former of these represents the Nicene faith, and the latter option is heresy. The Arians sought to develop a third alternative to describe the Father-God relationship in the Godhead. In their view, the Son is “only begotten” in the sense that He is the only one created first and in a unique manner by the Father. Hence they have maintained the following:
Not always Father, not always Son; for the Son was not before His generation, but, as others, came to be from nothing; and in consequence God was not always Father of the Son; but when the Son came to be and was created, then was God called His Father. For the Word is a creature and a work, and foreign and unlike the Father in essence; and the Son is neither by nature the Father’s true Word, nor His only and true Wisdom; but being a creature and one of the works, He is improperly called Word and Wisdom; for by the Word that is in God was He made, as were all things. Wherefore the Son is not true God.459
Several of the Bible passages that the Arians used to support this theory were explored, most notably Psalm 2:7, “Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten Thee.” Where the Arians interpreted this passage as pointing to a beginning and a generation of the Word, or Son of God, Athanasius interpreted it as referring to the Incarnation of the Word of God; describing how the Word took on the flesh that God the Father had created for Him.460 As he had earlier written in On the Incarnation, Athanasius urged, “And if we wish to know the object attained by this, we shall find it to be as follows: that the Word was made flesh in order to offer up this body for all, and that we partaking of His Spirit, might be deified, a gift which we could not otherwise have gained than by His clothing Himself in our created body, for hence we derive our name of ‘men of God’ and ‘men in Christ.’”461
The fourth chapter developed a scriptural proof for “the Catholic sense of the word Son.” This defense was mounted by marshaling passages from both testaments that evidenced the Word or Wisdom as the Son of God, Who is “unoriginate,” uncreated, and eternal. The Johannine Prologue played a foundational role in Arthanasius’s argumentation:
“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: all things were made by Him, and without Him was not anything made” [John 1:1–3]. And the Apostle, seeing that the Hand and the Wisdom and the Word was nothing else than the Son, says, “God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the Fathers by the Prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son, whom He hath appointed Heir of all things, by whom also He made the ages” [Heb 1:1, 2].462
In chapter 5 of the Defense, Athanasius answered the Arian assertion that “from the essence” and “one in essence” (phrases that are used in the Nicene Creed) were not scriptural words, and then went on to explain the orthodox meaning and application of those terms.“Why then,” he asked, “when they have invented on their part unscriptural phrases, for the purposes of irreligion, do they accuse those who are religious in their use of them?”463 His argument amounted to saying that these terms capture the essence and nature of Scripture’s affirmation of the shared divinity of the Father and Son, and their coeternal nature; therefore, these phrases are “equivalent language” for the words of the Bible.464 No one, therefore, should go against the phraseology of the Council or scruple against using their definition.
In chapter 6, Athanasius drew Christian tradition into his argument by showing that Theognostus, Dionysius of Alexandria, Dionysius of Rome, and Origen all supported the use of the term “one essence” (homoousia) and had used it in the sense that it was applied by the Fathers of Nicaea. He quoted extensively from each of these writers to show that they stood shoulder to shoulder with the Nicene Fathers’ application of the idea and phraseology of “one essence” (homoousia). Showing that this was the faith that was handed down from of old, the bishop of Alexandria concluded, “The faith which the Council has confessed in writing, that is the faith of the Catholic Church; to assert this, the blessed Fathers so expressed themselves while condemning the Arian heresy; and this is a chief reason why these apply themselves to calumniate the Council. For it is not the terms which trouble them, but that those terms prove them to be heretics, and presumptuous beyond other heresies.”465
Chapter 7 explored the various meanings of the word “unoriginate,” which was used by the Arians to describe their own understanding of the nature of the Son and the relationship of the Son to the Father. This was a relationship in which the Son was the firstborn creation of the Father, distinct from all other creatures, but a non-eternal creature nonetheless. The most obvious use of the term, opined Athanasius, was to describe the Father and the Son as being of “one essence,” since both Persons are without origin and are uncreated. But the Arians do not wish to embrace that meaning. Their sense of the term comes from the philosophers, to describe “what exists indeed, but was neither originated nor had origin of being, but is everlasting and indestructible.”466 The bishop argued that this is not a proper name for the Christian God: “It will be much more accurate to denote God from the Son and to call Him Father, than to name Him and call Him Unoriginated from His works only; for the latter term refers to the works that have come to be at the will of God through the Word, but the name of Father points out the proper offspring from His essence.”467 The Scriptures themselves teach us to call God “Father.” “But,” the bishop concluded, “if He wills that we should call His own Father our Father, we must not on that account measure ourselves with the Son according to nature, for it is because of the Son that the Father is so called by us; for since the Word bore our body and came to be in us, therefore by reason of the Word in us, is God called our Father.”468
The treatise entitled De sententia Dionysii (On the Opinion of Dionysius) was written just after the Defense. We know this because it quotes from the latter. The letter was written as a spirited defense of the saintly bishop of Alexandria, who had preceded Athanasius’s patron (Alexander) in that see. Dionysius was bishop of the city circa 247–65 and had been a student of the great Alexandrian theologian Origen. The Arians claimed that Dionysius taught their own theology of the subordination of the Son to the Father, and Athanasius wrote to counter that charge. Athanasius was not surprised: “For what marvel is it if men who have presumed to ‘take counsel against the Lord and against His Christ,’ are also vilifying the blessed Dionysius, Bishop of Alexandria, as a partisan and accomplice of their own?”469 In his extensive rebuttal, Athanasius argued that the Arians made their case by appealing to but a fragment of Dionysius’s writings, and they neglected to acknowledge that the writings they appealed to were written to combat Sabellianism—not to support Arianism.470 He argued that, like the holy apostles, Dionysius wrote of Christ as both God and Man,471 and hence did not separate the Persons of the Holy Trinity one from another.472 The counter-case seems to reach its climax in section 19, where Athanasius demonstrated and asserted that Dionysius believed and taught that the Father and Son were of one essence.473 He explained,
While their statement that the Son has no part in the Father’s essence, he unequivocally tramples down by saying that the Son is of one essence with the Father. Wherein one must wonder at the impudence of the irreligious persons. How can they, when Dionysius whom they claim as their partisan says that the Son is of one essence, themselves go about buzzing like gnats with the complaint that the Synod was wrong in writing “of one essence”? For if Dionysius is a friend of theirs, let them not deny what their partisan holds.474
Hence, Athanasius argued in section 24, “If the Arians agree with Dionysius let them use his language.”475 After answering a few more direct charges, Athanasius gave an extensive (and orthodox) discussion of the theology of the Word (Logos) of God, in which Dionysius overthrew the teaching of both Sabellius and Arius, and showed “both heresies to be equal in impiety. For neither is the Father of the Word Himself Word, nor is the offspring of the Father a creature, but the Own-begotten of His essence.”476 In his conclusion, Athanasius marveled once again at the impiety of “the Arian madmen”: “Convicted on this evidence, whom will they again venture to malign?”477
A pair of interesting personal letters from the pen of Athanasius have survived from this period (ca. 354)—one addressed to Amun and another to Dracontius. The Letter to Amun seems to be advice to a cleric, one who was perhaps also a monk, on issues pertaining to things “clean and unclean.” Athanasius writes that “all things made by God are beautiful and pure, for the Word of God has made nothing useless and impure.”478 Hence, “to the pure all things are pure” (Titus 1:15), yet to those whose conscience is defiled, all things are defiled. And this led Athanasius to a discussion of marriage:
There are two ways in life, as touching marriage. The one the more moderate and ordinary, I mean marriage; the other angelic and unsurpassed, namely virginity. Now if a man choose the way of the world, namely marriage, he is not indeed to blame; yet he will not receive such great gifts as the other. For he will receive, since he too brings forth fruit, namely thirtyfold. But if a man embrace the holy and unearthly way, even though, as compared with the former, it be rugged and hard to accomplish, yet it has the more wonderful gifts: for it grows the perfect fruit, namely an hundredfold.479
The Letter to Dracontius (written just prior to Easter in 354–55) was intended to urge the recipient not to flee persecution or to refuse the episcopacy but to embrace the episcopate and to remain faithful to the cause even in the face of persecution. Apparently Dracontius had fled his see and was not functioning as a bishop in the church. Athanasius wrote, “I am at a loss how to write. Am I to blame you for your refusal? Or for having regard to the trials, and hiding for fear of the Jews? In any case, however it may be, what you have done is worthy of blame, beloved Dracontius. For it was not fitting that after receiving the grace you should hide, nor that, being a wise man, you should furnish others with a pretext for flight.”480 Thus the bishop urged his absent colleague, “Do not then suffer those who give you contrary advice. But rather hasten and delay not; the more so as the holy festival is approaching; so that the laity may not keep the feast without you, and you bring great danger upon yourself. For who will in your absence preach them the Easter sermon? Who will announce to them the great day of the Resurrection, if you are in hiding? Who will counsel them, if you are in flight, to keep the feast fittingly?”481
The relationship between Athanasius and Emperor Constantius had been a rocky one from the very outset. But imperial intrigues and foreign wars caused Constantius to allow ecclesiastical matters to slip from the foreground of his attention during the initial years of Athanasius’s return to Alexandria. In 351 the usurper Magnentius murdered the Western emperor Constans, who had been a supporter of Athanasius and the Nicene theology, and assumed his throne. After a raging civil war over the imperial throne in the West, Constantius defeated Magnentius (ca. 353) and became sole ruler of the entire Roman Empire. With his orthodox brother’s influence and support for the Nicene theology gone, Constantius seemed to feel free to undertake a wholesale remaking of the theological landscape.
As early as 351 a council of (predominantly) Eastern bishops was held at Sirmium, under the direction of Basil of Ancyra. This group produced the “First Sirmium Confession,” which was essentially a reworked version of the Arian Confession that had been drafted in Antioch (341). In 353, a council held at Arles, during the autumn of that year, revived the old charges against Athanasius and added a few new ones. It seems that it was in response to these events that Athanasius composed his Apologia ad Constantium (Defense before Constanius).
Beginning as it does with a mild and conciliatory tone, the Defense may have been composed in installments between 353–57, but that is by no means entirely clear. The bishop of Alexandria began thus: “Knowing that you have been a Christian for many years, most religious Augustus, and that you are godly by descent, I cheerfully undertake to answer for myself at this time . . .”482 In the very next paragraph, however, Athanasius went on to describe the “conspiracy against me” that is clearly underway. He produced favorable quotations and recommendations from Valens and Ursacius (the under-emperors), as well as testimonials collected by them in which his Arian opponents confessed, “We lied, we invented these things; all the accusations against Athanasius are full of falsehood.”483
The balance of the treatise sought to answer the charges made against Athanasius, and this is an important window into our understanding of the case against him. The first of these was that Athanasius had poisoned the mind of Constans (Constantius’s imperial brother) against him. The second was that Athanasius had written to, encouraged, and supported Magnentius. Third, the bishop had used the new and unconsecrated cathedral (Caesareum) without imperial approval or permission during Easter 355. Fourth, and finally, Athanasius had directly disobeyed an imperial summons to the Council of Milan (July 31, 353). In his Defense, Athanasius sought to show himself innocent of these charges, either by outright denial or by an extensive explanation of his own actions.
The first charge, that he had tried to turn Constans against Constantius, was answered, in part, by pointing out that he never conversed with the Western emperor alone, but always in the presence of witnesses; and these could and should be amply interviewed. He also put himself under oath: “‘The Lord is witness, and His Anointed is Witness’ [1 Sam 12:5], I have never spoken evil of your Piety before your brother Constans, the most religious Augustus of blessed memory. I did not exasperate him against you, as these have falsely accused me.”484 In order to substantiate this point, Athanasius gave a literary itinerary of his movements with respect to meeting with Constans. The upshot of this was that there was “no possible time or place for the alleged offense.”485
The second charge, of corresponding with and thereby supporting “the tyrant” Magnentius, was flatly denied by Athanasius. He wrote, “Believe me, most religious Prince, many times did I weigh the matter in my mind, but was unable to believe that any one could be so mad as to utter such a falsehood. But when this charge was published abroad by the Arians, as well as the former, and they boasted that they had delivered to you a copy of the letter, I was the more amazed, and I used to pass sleepless nights contending against the charge, as if in the presence of my accusers.”486 This letter, if there really was one, he urged, must have been a complete and utter forgery. Once again, Athanasius put himself under oath, and denied any acquaintance with Magnentius, let alone having written to him. In contrast to his supposed friendship with Magnentius, Athanasius pointed to and swore his complete loyalty to Constantius and his brother.487
As to the third charge, of using an undedicated church, at Easter, Athanasius pled that the pragmatic need for more room—due to the huge crowds desiring to worship—was his justification. No disrespect toward the emperor (who was building the church) or toward ecclesiastical propriety was intended. This pragmatic reply was buttressed by several sub-points: “[it is] better to pray together than separately,” “[it is] better to pray in a building than in the desert,” and “prayers first do not interfere with dedication afterwards.”488 Hence, he wrote to Constantius, “The place is ready, having been already sanctified by the prayers that have been offered in it, and requires only the presence of your Piety. This only is wanting to its perfect beauty.”489
Taking up the fourth charge of having disobeyed an imperial order, Athanasius gave a history of his actions preceding his refusal to come to the Council of Milan. The people who ordered him to leave Alexandria and travel west presented no letter of introduction from Constantius. Hence, he wrote, “I acted rightly then, most religious Augustus, that as I had returned to my country under the authority of your letters, so I should only leave it by your command; and might not render myself liable hereafter to a charge of having deserted the Church, but as receiving your order might have a reason for my retiring.”490 When the proper documents and letter arrived, Athanasius set out for the West, but as he traveled he met rumors that his supporters in the West (including Pope Liberius of Rome and the venerable Hosius of Spain) had been banished for failing to support the trumped-up charges against Athanasius and for refusing to deny the Nicene theology.491 Soon after this Athanasius learned of his own proscription from office, and that George was elected bishop and sent to replace him.492 In the closing sections of the Defense, Athanasius defended his flight into hiding, upon hearing the news of his banishment. Seeing that people were seeking to arrest and kill him, Athanasius decided, “It was better for me to hide myself, and to wait for this opportunity [to make a defense].”493 And he detailed the dishonors, abuses, and scandals against the holy Virgins of his church that were perpetrated when the Arians assumed power.494 The Defense closed with Athanasius imploring Constantius to do his imperial, Christian duty in the face of all these abuses.495
The Defense seemed not to have much effect upon the imperial attitude toward Athanasius. And events, as they are described by Sozomen, quickly spun out of control. The emperor called a council at Milan (referenced above) in 355, which condemned and deposed Athanasius. When the Nicene supporters protested against these measures they were threatened with immediate banishment, and among those banished was Hilary of Poitiers. Athanasius, who had been summoned to the council, did not go, but instead sent five Egyptian bishops (including Serapion, bishop of Thumis) and three presbyters who could answer adequately in his behalf. Sozomen reported, “Athanasius, being apprised that plots had been formed against him at court, deemed it prudent not to repair to the emperor himself, as he knew that his life would be thereby endangered, nor did he think that it would be of any avail.”496 Shortly after this party had departed for their voyage, Athanasius received a series of letters from Emperor Constantius summoning him to the royal palace. Athanasius and the people of the Alexandrian church were “greatly troubled at this command” since they saw no safety in obeying the emperor’s command, because of his “heterodox sentiments.”497 On this basis, the bishop once again considered it more prudent to disobey the emperor and remain in Alexandria.
The following summer another letter arrived for Athanasius from the emperor, summoning him to court. This letter arrived with the governor of the provinces, and “he was charged to urge the departure of Athanasius from the city, and to act with hostility against the clergy.” This summons too came to naught, when the governor “perceived, however, that the people of the Church were full of courage and ready to take up arms, he also departed from the city without accomplishing his mission.” A third time, the emperor sought to extricate Athanasius from Alexandria, this time sending Roman legions, which were quartered in Egypt and Libya, to remove him by force under the leadership of General Syrianus. It was rumored that the bishop could be found in the church known as “Theonas.” When the troops burst open the doors and sought to arrest him, Athanasius could not be found. Sozomen remarked, “It is said that he escaped this and many other perils by the Divine interposition; and that God had disclosed this previously; directly as he went out, the soldiers took the doors of the church, and were within a little [time] of seizing him.”498 Athanasius narrated these events in his Apologia de fuga (Defense of His Flight), which was written during his subsequent exile:
It was now night, and some of the people were keeping a vigil preparatory to a communion on the morrow, when the General Syrianus suddenly came upon us with more than five thousand soldiers, having arms and drawn swords, bows, spears, and clubs . . . With these he surrounded the Church, stationing his soldiers near at hand, in order that no one might be able to leave the Church and pass by them. Now I considered that it would be unreasonable in me to desert the people during such a disturbance, and not to endanger myself in their behalf; therefore I sat down upon my throne, and desired the Deacon to read a Psalm, and the people to answer, “For His mercy endureth forever,” and then all to withdraw and depart home. But the General having now made a forcible entry, and the soldiers having surrounded the sanctuary for the purpose of apprehending us, the Clergy and those of the laity, who were still there, cried out, and demanded that we too should withdraw. But I refused, declaring that I would not do so, until they had retired one and all. Accordingly, I stood up, and having bidden prayer, I then made my request of them, that all should depart before me, saying that it was better that my safety be endangered, than that any of them should receive hurt. So when the greater part had gone forth, and the rest were following, the monks who were there with us and certain of the Clergy came up and dragged us away. And thus (Truth is my witness), while some of the soldiers stood about the sanctuary, and others were going round the Church, we passed through, under the Lord’s guidance, and with His protection without observation, greatly glorifying God that we had not betrayed the people, but had first sent them away, and then had been able to save ourselves, and to escape the hands of them that sought after us.499
For a time Athanasius hid in the city of Alexandria while the troops sought to arrest him. Initially he hid in an underground cistern, which had at one time been used as a reservoir for water. When that place of hiding became known through bribing the servants who were helping him, he eventually escaped from the city by sailing up the Nile to the distant parts of the region. But when his pursuers learned of this he sailed back south, as his assailants rowed past him in the darkness. Exactly when the bishop fled the city is not clear, but most commentators locate Athanasius in exile among the desert monks of Egypt in the summer of 356. An Arian bishop named George was installed as head of the church, with the support of imperial forces. Sozomen reported that he was regarded with “great aversion” because of the means of his elevation and his “many evil deeds.” He quickly forfeited the support of the populace and the respect of the Egyptian monks, who “openly declared him to be perfidious and inflated with arrogance.” “The opinions of these monks,” Sozomen reported, “were always adopted by the people, and their testimony was universally received.”500
441. These letters are preserved in Athanasius’s Defense Against the Arians 51–58, NPNF, vol. IV, 127–31.
442. Defense Against the Arians 52–53, 128.
443. Sozomen, Church History III.23, NPNF, vol. II, 300.
444. Athanasius, History of the Arians 22, NPNF, vol. IV, 277.
445. Athanasius, Defense Against the Arians 57, NPNF, vol. IV, 130.
446. See “Introduction: Festal Letters, and Index,” NPNF, vol. IV, 504. Cf. Kidd, History of the Church, 2:98–101, for this information and more.
447. Socrates, Church History II.3, NPNF, vol. II, 37.
448. Kidd, History of the Church, 2:101.
449. Athanasius, Festal Letter 19, NPNF, vol. IV, 545.
450. Kidd, History of the Church, 2:101–4.
451. Ibid., 106–7.
452. Ibid., 107.
453. Ibid.
454. Robertson, introduction to De Decretis, NPNF, vol. IV, 149.
455. De Decretis I.1, NPNF, vol. IV, 150–51.
456. De Decretis II.3, NPNF, vol. IV, 152.
457. Ibid.
458. De Decretis II.5, NPNF, vol. IV, 153.
459. De Decretis III.6, NPNF, vol. IV, 153–54.
460. De Decretis III.13, NPNF, vol. IV, 158.
461. De Decretis III.14, NPNF, vol. IV, 159.
462. De Decretis IV.17, NPNF, vol. IV, 161.
463. De Decretis V.18, NPNF, vol. IV, 162.
464. De Decretis V.22, NPNF, vol. IV, 165.
465. De Decretis VI.27, NPNF, vol. IV, 169.
466. De Decretis VII.28, NPNF, vol. IV, 170.
467. De Decretis VII.31, NPNF, vol. IV, 171.
468. Ibid., 172.
469. Athanasius, On the Opinion of Dionysius, NPNF, vol. IV, 176.
470. Ibid., 177.
471. Ibid., 178–79.
472. Ibid., 182–83.
473. Ibid., 183.
474. Ibid.
475. Ibid., 185, section head.
476. Ibid., 186.
477. Ibid., 187.
478. Athanasius, Letter 48, NPNF, vol. IV, 556.
479. Ibid., 557.
480. Athanasius, Letter 49, NPNF, vol. IV, 557–58.
481. Ibid., 560.
482. Defense before Constantius 1, NPNF, vol. IV, 238.
483. Ibid.
484. Defense before Constantius 3, NPNF, vol. IV, 239.
485. Defense before Constantius 5, NPNF, vol. IV, 240.
486. Defense before Constantius 6, NPNF, vol. IV, 240.
487. Defense before Constantius 10, NPNF, vol. IV, 241.
488. Defense before Constantius 16–18, NPNF, vol. IV, 244–45.
489. Defense before Constantius 18, NPNF, vol. IV, 245.
490. Defense before Constantius 24, NPNF, vol. IV, 247.
491. Defense before Constantius 27, NPNF, vol. IV, 248–49.
492. Defense before Constantius 28–29, NPNF, vol. IV, 249.
493. Defense before Constantius 35, NPNF, vol. IV, 253.
494. Defense before Constantius 33, NPNF, vol. IV, 252.
495. Defense before Constantius 35, NPNF, vol. IV, 253.
496. Sozomen, Church History IV.9, NPNF, vol. II, 305.
497. Ibid.
498. Ibid.
499. Defense of His Flight 24, NPNF, vol. IV, 263–64.
500. Sozomen, Church History IV.9, NPNF, vol. II, 306