Encomium to Saint Andrew the Apostle
By St. Athanasios the Great, Archbishop of Alexandria
By St. Athanasios the Great, Archbishop of Alexandria
A. Seeing this radiant flock of the Spirit, this apostolic net cast into a truly calm and untroubled sea, I am reminded of the Master’s voice crying, “Come follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” O voice full of power! O words made known by deeds! O promise that is true and grows day by day! For whose is this great catch of human beings? Who has gathered together this illustrious festival, if not the illustrious Andrew, the foremost of the apostles? He it was who cast out the nets of his tongue and memory, so that — filling this sacred ship with the oars of apostleship — he might steer the vessel straight toward heaven.
And what are the first fruits of this catch? What are the choice offerings of these labors? Those who brighten the enclosure of the priesthood with their virtues; those who first spread wide these apostolic arms and drew into salvation those wandering outside. Indeed, the great Andrew has given the occasion for our present festival; yet the whole chorus of the apostles is honored together. For those whom grace has joined, no place can part.
Just as, if someone wished to praise a crown adorned with costly gems, whichever part he grasped in praise, he would marvel at the whole through the part; or as when one sees a chain of gold, and wherever he touches it, the whole is set in motion — so too, when speech moves toward one apostle, it embraces them all, according to the divine Paul: “If one member rejoices, all the members rejoice with it.” For what harmony of natural limbs has nature woven together that is more concordant than the chorus of the apostles, which the grace of the Spirit has united? Truly one is the grace that enlisted the apostles for the Master.
B. Come, then, to them all, and through all let us marvel at each one. Andrew — whose very name bears the bravery of the apostolic calling — was the first to acknowledge the Master as teacher; the beginning of the apostolic choir; keen-sighted toward the Master’s coming; the one who exchanged the discipleship of John for the teaching of Christ, the seal of the Baptist’s words. For among John’s disciples he was the most proven: seeking in the lamp’s light the truth of the Light, as one becoming accustomed, through dimmer rays, to the brightnesses of Christ.
But John for a time stood by the waters of the Jordan, baptizing the flocks of the Jews — preparing, in water, repentance as an antidote to the precepts of Moses, and blunting the edge of the Mosaic sword in the streams. For those whom the transgression of the Law had brought to death, the Baptist, forestalling this through repentance, sent ahead. Since the One who would abolish death had not yet appeared, death was mitigated by the overshadowings of baptism, learning an involuntary philanthropy through repentance.
But when the Master came — hidden by the wisdom of the divine dispensation, concealing the lightning of His worth beneath mortal clothing — John recognized Him and immediately changed from guide to attendant; drawing back his hand, he became herald of the One present: “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” “This,” he says, “is He who dissolves death. This is He who removes sin. I have been sent as the friend of the Bridegroom, not as the Bridegroom. I have come as the attendant, not the Master.”
C. Stirred by these words, Andrew — the most illustrious of the apostles — left his teacher and ran to the One proclaimed. Receiving the sign of the word, he becomes sharper than the tongue of John himself. Drawing near to the Master, he showed his longing by his appearance, taking with him the evangelist John as companion in the journey; and both, leaving the lamp, hastened to the sun.
Andrew is the first planting of the apostles; he opened the gates of Christ’s discipleship; he was first to harvest the fruits of the prophetic field, and surpassing the hopes of all, he first embraced the One awaited by all. He first showed that the precepts of the Law were measured by their appointed time; he first silenced the tongue of Moses, not enduring that it should speak after Christ had spoken — not insulting nor being insulted by the teacher of the Jews, but preferring the One who sent Moses over the one sent, and in truth honoring Moses first by recognizing the One he foretold: “The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet from your brothers like me; him you shall hear.”
Obeying the Law, he set aside the Law; he heard Moses speak, “Him you shall hear,” and he heard John cry, “Behold, the Lamb of God,” and at the pointing he became deserter to the One pointed out. Recognizing the Prophet foretold, he leads his brother to the discovery. To Peter, who knew nothing of the treasure, he reveals: “We have found the Messiah” — the One we longed for. “The One whose coming we hoped for, whose vision we desire — let us behold Him now. We have found Him whom the prophetic trumpets ordered us to await. The time has arrived that grace proclaimed, that desire hoped to see with its eyes.”
He found, it says, his own brother Simon, and shares with him the treasure of the vision; he leads Peter by the hand to the Master. O wondrous marvel! Thus Andrew becomes both disciple and teacher of men. From learning he began to teach; he snatches for himself the dignity of apostleship: “We have found the Messiah! How many sleepless nights did we pass by the streams of Jordan, and now we have found the One we longed for!" Peter was not slow after the word — for he was Andrew’s brother — and with eager mind he hastened, stretching out his ears.
D. Andrew, taking Peter, leads the one who divides nature to the Master, making him a companion in discipleship. This is Andrew’s first achievement: he increased the number of the apostles; he brought Peter, so that Christ might find the chief among the disciples. Thus, even in the things where Peter is later found to excel, he has the seeds of his excellence from Andrew. Yet the exchange of praises is balanced on both sides: they appropriate one another’s good things and rejoice in each other’s virtues.
How much joy Peter gave to all when he responded sharply to the Master’s questions, breaking the bashful silence of the disciples! “Who do people say that I am?” And as though he were the tongue of all who were questioned, or as though all spoke in him, he alone answered for all: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!” — with one voice proclaiming both the One who ordains the economy and the economy itself. O harmony of words! For the very words with which Andrew had guided Peter, the Father from above sealed in Peter, sounding within him. Andrew had said: “We have found the Messiah.” The Father added: “You are the Son of the living God,” as though instructing Peter to speak the words of Andrew when questioned: “Speak, Peter, the words of Andrew; show yourself ready for the Master’s question. He spoke truth to you when he said, ‘We have found the Messiah.’ Transform the Hebrew word into Greek and cry aloud: ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.’”
You see with how many honors Andrew is adorned in the very beginnings of discipleship.
E. But when the Savior, leaving the cities, traveled through the wilderness, the multitudes followed Him, unable to endure even a brief separation. They were in a desert place, and there was no food; their stomachs were not satisfied. The Savior, using the desert itself, rekindled an ancient wonder, making the desert again witness to the miracles once done in the wilderness. He puts forth the disciples as hosts and urges the crowds toward an improvised banquet.
The multitude of disciples was troubled by the lack, and, looking at each other, not understanding what was to come, they were overcome by human reasoning. One said one thing, another something else, each announcing the present difficulty. But Andrew, pointing out the meagerness of what was available, was secretly giving the Master the occasion for the miracle. “There are only five loaves,” he says, “and a few small fish.” What then says the Savior? “Bring them here to me.” And the confession of poverty became abundance.
F. But now the Savior, having completed His stay on earth and having spent with His disciples the time sufficient, was being taken up to heaven. The apostles, taking possession of the whole world and dividing themselves in body, transferred the streams of grace, one to one place and one to another.
Then the blessed Andrew, having filled both Greeks and barbarians with grace and persuaded nations to faith through miracles, was sent to the most warlike stronghold of unbelief — Achaia. There, having registered many for heaven through faith, he was himself handed over to the cross; and, imitating the Master in the manner of his death, he displayed by sharing in His passion the greatness of his love.
A cross, then, was fixed in the midst of Greece, and Andrew hung upon it — proclaiming the Crucified on the cross, confirming the nails by his own nails, witnessing to the Passion by his passion. Finding in this the end of his mortal life, he showed the more powerful strength of his teaching through his suffering. Those whom he had not persuaded by speaking, he subdued by being slain; those whom he had not drawn by preaching, he netted by suffering.
Divided, as it were, between heaven and earth — having his body on earth but his soul allotted to heaven — he oversees the flocks of humanity, receiving those on earth with healings and wonders. From that agriculture, those present sprouted ears of grain; from his teaching, the clusters of the faith blossomed. And you, teachers of piety, have gathered; merchants of the kingdom of heaven, you have come together to the one admired in heaven. For the voice of Christ through the blessed Paul is: “If we endure, we shall also reign with Him.” To Him be glory unto the ages of ages. Amen.
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
