Butler only recognizes one saint for May 2nd, so you know it’s one of the All-Time Extra-Important Must-Have-His-Own-Day-Alone Superstar Saints! And indeed, it is one of the most divisive and defining characters in all of Christian history–Athanasius.

Many have never even heard of him, and that is because his name really is virtually synonymous with “Christian orthodox doctrine and dogma.” The only parallel that comes to mind is Philo Taylor Farnsworth. A very few might recognize this name, but, as is the case with Athanasius, most will not. Farnsworth, for all practical purposes, invented the television. And of course are all quite familiar with television–it is pervasive, it is widespread, it is inescapable. We take television as a “given” in life and Mr. Farnsworth is scarcely given a thought except for those who think about such things.

The point here is that, for better or worse, Athanasius’ fingerprints are all over every Christian belief and practice, in every corner of the world, such that his actual identity goes largely unremarked. Even those who disagree with Christian doctrines are disagreeing with something fashioned, influenced, and steeped in Athanasius-ness.

Butler begins his lengthy discussion of this Super Saint by quoting from another saint, Gregory Nazianzen, who offered these words in praise of today’s featured Christian:

“When I praise Athanasius, virtue itself is my theme; for I name every virtue as often as I mention him who was possessed of all virtues. He was the true pillar of the church. His life and conduct were the rule of bishops, and his doctrine the rule of the orthodox faith.”

Spoiler alert: The Roman Emperor Constantine wanted Christianity to be a uniting influence throughout the Empire. He got tired of all the squabbling and anathematizing and schisms about what he regarded as “who gives a damn” issues like whether Jesus had two persons, two personalities, one essence, or three essences. The Emperor simply didn’t care if there was a Unity, a Trinity, or a Hydra-Deity. He wanted unanimity that would reach into every part of his Empire, and to that end, Constantine rounded up all the bishops throughout the Empire (by “rounded up” I mean he sent soldiers with swords) and locked them in a room until they got their act together…he wouldn’t let them leave (again, at sword-point) until they decided the Christian party line that everyone would adopt and stick to throughout the Empire.

Although he indeed took his lumps (socially and physically), Athanasius ended up at the heart of crafting “orthodoxy” and then taking his show on the road–pushing, prodding, baying, berating, browbeating, and laying down the laws that he had just helped make up. Athanasius became this “new” single-minded Christianity’s party whip as well as its majority leader, the speaker of its house and, eventually, chief of its thought police.

While I recognize the linchpin role that Athanasius plays in Christian history, this is just the problem–that there has become a reason to speak of the “history of Christianity” instead of “histories of Christianities” or, even, the stories and insights of a wide variety of incredible people throughout the ages who have been impacted by a ripple effect traceable to Jesus of Nazareth.

In the original Grimm Brother’s version of “Cinderella,” she had golden slippers (rather than glass), and in an attempt to fit their feet into the golden slipper, one of Cinderella’s stepsisters sliced off her big toe; the other one cut off her heel. Well, orthodoxy is the golden slipper that Christians have been expected to squeeze their feet into, even at the cost of chopping off their intellect, slicing off their sexuality, cramming their experiences, binding their behaviors. Athanasius? He was the Grand Cobbler (or Spectacular Smithy?) who made that slipper.

Oh, he’s definitely worth remembering.