Here is a poem and potential lyrics to a tribute to Athanasius:
When I was a boy, Bishop Alexander saw me playing church at the beach, off in the distance.
With seven other boys, pretending to be a bishop, blessing all the heathen infants.
We caught the attention of his eyes so he called us all into his palace.
I told him how I’d baptize and the proper way for a bishop to hold the chalice.
I don’t know what it was but the old man took a shine to me.
I don’t know what it was but the saintly bishop had some time for me.
He called my parents and asked them to release me to his care.
He was bold and he told them that “I see greatness standing there.”
He said, “There’s something in the boy that is tenacious and portentous.”
“That’s why I want Athanasius to be my personal apprentice.”
My parents were flattered, though somewhat resistant.
But they gave their blessing for me to start lessons as Alexander’s assistant.
From there I was taught and trained to do one thing,
to lead God’s people to worship Christ the King.
So although my origins were inauspicious,
I was ambitious, my discipline judicious.
I read Scripture till it soaked into my brain.
I punished my body until it was immune to pain.
I wrestled with demons in Egyptian sands.
I prayed with saints and held holy hands.
My sermons was fiery, infectious, and prophetic
While trained my body to highly ascetic.
I was a beacon as a deacon and I gave Alexander my brains and my brawn.
I put down the enemies of this Diocese till they were dusted and gone.
I gave the loudest clarion for the faithful to defeat the insufferable Arians.
I made several deletions as some of my boys disappeared the Meletians.
I ran a catechetical school, I suffered no fools, no time for tricks of pranksters
My position when it came to opposition was to be a bit of a gangsta
I fasted and outlasted every enemy both abroad and at home.
I faced accusations from murder to treason.
But the strongest fetters could not stop my letters bringing a word in season.
I was exiled five times: from Gaul to the Rhine.
I survive the machinations of emperors nine.
When my friends deserted me, when imperial agents tried to hurt me.
I did God’s will, I took my quill, and no demon or beast could ever divert me.
I wrote treatises that were cathedrals of exegetical beauty.
I fought the good fight and did my holy duty.
In any debate and in rhetorical stakes I could exceed ya.
I had gravitas and cahoonas when I spoke ex cathedra.
If I have a flaw, it would have to be my inflexible fixation.
To establish once for all the holy incarnation.
So I am that black little dwarf that emperors worry about.
I am that meddlesome bishop that likes to scurry about.
I’ve endured the result of every insult that my foes have hurled,
And if everyone is against me, then it’s Athanasius against the world.
I’ve been confined and much maligned by the plot my enemies unfurled.