Contra Mundum (For Athanasius of Alexandria)
He wrestled with the Emperors;
His pillar stood firm, unshaking,
While all around the edifice
Quaked and quivered, prone to fall.
The world threshed about like a serpent,
Enthralling the Bride in its grip,
And charmed bishops and kings with
Its every sleek and fork-tongued word.
And as the wand’ring minstrel sang
Songs of the once when He was not,
And every town danced to the tune
Of Arius’s piper-song,
Athanasius begged them all
To look upon the God-made-flesh
And see in Him the answer to
The dying world, the godless mess,
The Image now forsaken, once
Thriving in the breath of God.
He saw the arms of living grace
Stretch out and hold us in the Word.
The Consolations of Writing 