In choosing to set down The Life of Antony, Athanasius had agendas beyond commemorating a wise monk. The selection of stories and teaching drawn from Antony’s life seem intentionally curated to be an inspiration and guide to holy living—while also undermining heterodox forms of Christianity, like the Arians Athanasius perpetually fought. I wonder, as well, if The Life of Antony is Athanasius's critique of the quickly developing culture among the bishops. Having observed the Council of Nicea and spent years wrangling with bishops whose concerns often seem far removed from spirituality, the principled, simple, and God-captivated life of Antony must have seemed like something from another world—a more holy world. In presenting Antony in this light, Athanasius set forward an idealized vision of the faithful Christian and even a model for Christian leaders.
Athanasius shows that while Antony had a spiritual impulse and desire to pursue God, his maturity depended on two things. First, Antony listened to and took the guidance of the Apostles as recorded in scripture seriously. When he heard the gospel read and learned the Acts account of early Christians giving their wealth to the poor, he did so himself. (31) Second, he followed this act of commitment by humbly seeking out guidance and spiritual wisdom from other Godly teachers. When he found teaching or examples that made sense and aligned with his understanding of scripture, he would incorporate it into his own life and practice. “And having been filled in this manner, He returned to his own place of discipline, from that time gathering the attributes of each [teacher] in himself, and striving to manifest in himself what was best from all.” (33) Here, Athanasius shows quite clearly that the Christian faith does not occur in a vacuum, even for hermits! Christian faith begins with the Apostles' teachings, is formed in obedience to those teachings, and is strengthened and honed under the instruction of wise elders.
A lengthy portion of the biography focuses on Antony’s ascetic practices in the wilderness, particularly his struggles with evil spirits. I found most compelling in these stories that Antony’s posture toward Satan and the power of evil was never a position of fear. Rather than fight back with spectacle or elaborate rituals, Antony simply believed that the completed work of Christ on the cross included the total defeat of Satan. “Since the Lord made his sojourn with us, the enemy is fallen and his powers have diminished.” (52). Rooted in this complete trust in God’s power and authority, Antony would simply dismiss the demons attacking him. In one episode, he spoke to Satan, saying, “You, then, are much to be despised…like a powerless child. From now on you cause me no anxiety, for the Lord is my helper…” (35). This doesn’t mean that Antony didn’t struggle, yet the struggles are not portrayed as fighting against a powerful outside enemy, but instead as fighting against his own pride and risk of falling to temptation. While this spiritual oppression was at times painful, he accepted the discomfort. “Here I am—Antony! I do not run from your blows, for even if you give me more, nothing shall separate me from the love of Christ.” (38). In another case, Antony drew a line in the sand. He was willing to die as a martyr, but he also didn’t accept that the demonic forces assailing him had any power over him. He ended one episode by declaring: “If you have received authority over me, I am prepared to be devoured by you. But if you were sent by demons, waste no time retreating, for I am a servant of Christ.” (70)
As time passed, Antony became famous for both his holiness and manifestations of spiritual power that increasingly accompanied him. People traveled far into the desert to find him and seek his guidance. They even brought their injured and sick to him for healing. Later in his life, there were great crowds. And yet, Athanasius presents Antony as avoiding all self-inflation that might result from these circumstances. “And Antony was neither boastful when he was heeded, nor disgruntled when he was not; rather, he gave thanks to the Lord always.” (73). This was part of the state of equilibrium that he seemed to have achieved. “The state of his soul was…not constricted by grief, nor relaxed by pleasure, nor affected by either laughter or dejection. Moreover, when he saw the crowd, he was not annoyed any more than he was elated…He maintained utter equilibrium.” (42) This graciousness was not only interior for Antony. It shaped his relationship with others. “He was gracious and civil, and his speech was seasoned with divine salt, so that no one resented him—on the contrary, all who came to him rejoiced.” (84) Even as a person of significant influence, he respected those who had been appointed to leadership. “Though the sort of man he was, he honored the rule of the church with extreme care, and he wanted every cleric to be held in higher regard than himself. He felt no shame bowing the head to the bishops and priests; even if a deacon came time for assistance, he discussed the things that were beneficial, and gave place to him in prayer, not being embarrassed to put himself in a position to learn.” (81)
Not only did Athanasius portray Antony as an elevated, spiritual, and gracious soul, but he also pointed out that Antony used his influence not only to elevate others to holiness but also to oppose injustice. “He aided judges, advising them to value justice over everything else, and to fear God, and to realize that by the judgment with which they judged, they themselves would be judged.” (92). In another case, Athanasius uses words that I sincerely wish could be ascribed to Christians today. Antony “lent his support to victims of injustice so avidly, that it was possible to think that he, not the others, was the injured party.” (94)
If Athanasius uses Antony to provide a sketch of the mature Christian life, then this is what we see: A mature and healthy Christian reads and obeys scripture, taking the Apostles' instructions seriously. They exhibit a humble spirit, seeking spiritual wisdom from their elders and applying that insight for personal growth and holiness. They live with a deep trust in God and the completed work of Jesus on the cross that enables them to stand without fear in the face of evil and enables them to sacrifice their life and comfort rather than submitting to evil. To a modern reader, the supernatural elements of the story and Antony’s dramatic struggles with evil spirits make The Life of Antony seem legendary. Yet, for me, the descriptions of his character and demeanor are the real issue. Even these seem deeply idealized and so far beyond the average person. But this only strengthens my suspicion that Athanasius intended this story to be a foil and critique of the bishops of his day. To the bishops, The Life of Antony could serve as a challenge to greater holiness and self-sacrifice personally, and also to see their role as shepherds extend beyond souls and salvation to include safety and fair treatment in the world. To the people under the bishops, the book could serve as a measuring rod, giving them a standard to expect from their leaders.
I was most deeply moved learning that this giant of faith continued to see himself as someone who was learning and growing in holiness. Athanasius recorded that Antony taught his monks the following: “Let us take courage and let us always rejoice, like those who are being redeemed.” (63) If someone with such indisputable credentials of spiritual maturity can consider himself merely one who is “being redeemed,” perhaps the rest of us can be exorcised of our driving demons of spiritual accomplishment, trusting Christ’s work within us to be completed in his own good time.