Saint Athanasius |
It was the year 313, and the bishop of Alexandria stood at his window and looked out upon the city he was responsible for.
Beyond the line of houses, Bishop Alexander could see the city’s port
bustling with the activity that had made Egypt such a rich trading
centre during the height of the Roman Empire. Beyond that, stretching as
far into the distance as the eye could see, the bishop looked upon the
waters of the Mediterranean.
Just as Bishop Alexander was about to turn away from the window and
prepare for some guests he was expecting for Sunday dinner, his gaze
caught something he hadn’t seen before. On the shore of the harbor a
group of boys were playing.
In itself this was nothing unusual; what was unusually is what the
boys were playing. They seemed to be reenacting a baptism service. One
of the boys was actually baptizing the other boys.
Concerned that the boys were making light of weighty matters, the
Bishop sent his servant to break up the mock service and bring the boys
to himself.
When the boys arrived at his house, the bishop began by asking the boys what they had been playing.
“It wasn’t our fault,” put in one of the company. “It was the
bishop’s fault.” As he said this, the boy pointed towards a tall slim
lad with ruddy hair, the one whom Alexander had seen baptizing the other
boys.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“My name is Athanasius,” the young boy replied, a little nervous to
find the bishop taking such an interest in him. “We were just playing,”
the boy continued. “I was pretending to be the bishop and these
[pointing to his companions] are my catechumens who have been awaiting
baptism.”
As Bishop Alexander continued to question the boy, his response
turned from one of censure to wonder. It turned out that the child had
performed the baptismal rites on his companions with remarkable
accuracy, perfectly reciting in Greek the liturgical formula used in the
baptism of catechumens.
“Are you a Christian?” Alexander asked.
“Yes.”
Bishop Alexander continued his inquiries. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“I want to be a priest.”
The bishop stood silent for a moment eying the boy. “It is not an
easy life,” he said softly, recalling the Diocletian persecution which
had only just come to an end and in which many of his friends had been
martyred for the faith. “Also, a priest must have learning.”
“I love to learn,” said the boy, “And I am not afraid of anything!”
Impressed by the boy’s enthusiasm, the bishop made inquiries into the
names and whereabouts of his parents. Later that week Alexander paid
Athanasius’ parents a visit and asked for permission to bring the boy up
in order to train and educate him for the ministry. Athanasius’
parents, who always knew there was something special about their boy,
gladly accepted the bishop’s offer.
Athanasius quickly grew to love the gentle bishop as a father. But
Athanasius was not the only one blessed by the relationship. The busy
bishop found his generosity to the boy repaid a hundredfold, as the lad
became a most useful assistant. Together the two of them travelled
around the vast diocese, strengthening local church leaders and
ministering to the needs of the saints.
Six years later, when Athanasius was 23 years old, he was ordained as
a deacon and continued to work closely with the aging Patriarch.
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