Books, they say, are a preacher’s whiskey. Like many students of theology and Church History, my study walls are encrusted with volume after volume beckoning me to, as C.S. Lewis once said in his essay, On the Reading of Old Books, “work my way through a bit of tough theology with a pipe in my teeth and a pencil in my hand.” One of the first things one sees rounding the corner into my study is a rather large set of books containing the writings of the Early Church Fathers. They sit there, inviting me to come with them to times when doctrine was fiercely contended for and the life of the Church rested upon fine points of debate in theology. Long, about the middle of this big set of books, is one tome – just one amidst thirty-seven others in this series, by one man – a small man, we are told. His name is Athanasius.