Of Music and Emperors
When we speak about wisdom, we are speaking about Christ. When we speak about virtue, we are speaking about Christ. When we speak about justice, we are speaking about Christ. When we speak about truth and life and redemption, we are speaking about Christ.
Traditionally attributed to Ambrose of Milan
Be not afraid of greatness; Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.”1 Those words of William Shakespeare could describe Ambrose of Milan.
Ambrose was a multifaceted man, garnering respect and achieving power at an early age. At just age thirty, he was appointed governor in Italy’s northern provinces. Before his life would end, he would count among his accomplishments those of biblical interpreter, political theorist, eloquent speaker and teacher, musician, and bishop of Milan.
Ambrose’s transition from governor to minister was unexpected and unplanned. By 380 the church had grown in prominence and Christians were no longer social outcasts. By Ambrose’s day, non-Christians were more likely to be penalized for their choices than Christians.
Emperor Theodosius made Christianity a requirement. He wrote:
It is our will that all people we rule shall practice that religion which the divine Peter the apostle transmitted to the Romans. We shall believe in the single deity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, under the concepts of equal majesty and of the Holy Trinity. We command that those persons who follow this rule shall embrace the name of Catholic Christians. The rest, however, whom we adjudge to be demented and insane, shall sustain the infamy of heretical dogmas, their meeting places shall not receive the name of churches, and they shall be smitten first by divine vengeance and secondly by the retribution of our own initiative, which we shall assume in accordance with divine judgment.2
Christianity was not only protected by the law, it had become the law. Christianity had moved from a personal choice to a government mandate. Many of those attending churches were not doing so out of a longing for worship and greater knowledge of Christ but rather out of compulsion. Christianity as a mandated religion led to many un-Christian acts by the “church.” Where once matters of doctrine were fought with words, they were now, in some places, being fought with violence.
One such battle pitted orthodox Christians against members of the Arian heresy. Arianism began with an Alexandrian priest named Arius. It was his contention that Christ was not divine and not equal with God, and while important, was not to be confused with the Father. To the Arians, Jesus was a created being and therefore not coeternal with God. By this time the orthodox church had an abiding belief in the Trinity, the belief that there is one God in three persons, distinct but equal. Emperor Theodosius had made the orthodox view mandatory; Auxentius, however, was an Arian and therefore out of step with accepted doctrine of the church. He was declared a heretic. To this day, he is not listed as a bishop of Milan in the Roman Catholic list of bishops. Nevertheless, he was able to hold his position as bishop of Milan until his death.
Auxentius had many supporters who held him and his doctrine in high regard. When he died, conflict erupted, leading to violence between the Arians and the orthodox Christians.
Ambrose, as governor, attended the meeting to select the new bishop of Milan. As a representative of the empire, he hoped his presence would curtail further violence. Both Arians and orthodox believers filled the hall to select their next leader, and both sides of the argument held Ambrose in high regard—one of the few things they could agree on. Someone shouted, “Ambrose for bishop!” No one knows who that “someone” was, but this single declaration was joined by a chorus of others.
Ambrose had no desire to serve as bishop, but he was clearly the favorite of those on both sides of the dispute. Still, he resisted. After all, although a believer, he had never been baptized. How could he assume the role of church leader? It didn’t matter. He had been chosen and that was that. The people wrote the emperor asking for help in persuading Ambrose. He responded in true imperial fashion: he placed Ambrose under arrest until he agreed to become the new bishop of Milan.
Ambrose had been drafted.
Subsequently, his baptism followed, as did a rapid sequence of promotions through the established church hierarchy. Eight days later, Ambrose became bishop—an unlikely outcome for a governor who was simply trying to quell violence after the death of Auxentius.
Ambrose threw himself into the work, applying his keen mind to the task of Scripture study and a reading of the church fathers. He began preaching, and the oratory skills that had served him so well in the public sector now brought him fame as a preacher.
The Bishop of “No”
While it is nice to be loved and entrusted with an important work, Ambrose’s life was not free from turmoil. The debate between the Arians and their orthodox counterparts continued to rage. If the Arians who helped usher Ambrose into his new role thought he might be sympathetic to their cause, they were doomed to disappointment. Ambrose was no Arian and he resisted their heretical teachings, even writing several works against them: On the Faith, The Mystery of the Lord’s Incarnation, and On the Holy Spirit. Under his leadership, Arianism lost influence, but not without a battle. Many leaders in politics and the military subscribed to the Arian views, including the mother of the emperor. The Arians in Milan demanded two churches for their congregations, one in the city and one in the suburbs. This demand came from local authorities and the members of the emperor’s family.
Ambrose refused this request, saying, “If you demand my person, I am ready to submit: carry me to prison or to death, I will not resist; but I will never betray the church of Christ. I will not call upon the people to succor me; I will die at the foot of the altar rather than desert it. The tumult of the people I will not encourage: but God alone can appease it.”3
He then turned away those who had come to prepare one of the churches for the arrival of the emperor’s mother. In so doing, he showed for the first time that the church could stand up to the government.
A Bloodbath
Ambrose’s dedication to truth was tested to the extreme when an arrest of a local athlete led to murder and, eventually, something much worse. In 390, the governor arrested a popular chariot racer in Thessalonica for homosexuality. Those spectators loyal to this popular athlete demanded his release. When the governor refused, the people took up arms and freed the athlete themselves, and in the process killed the governor and others.
Word reached Emperor Theodosius. He devised a plan that would achieve vengeance for the death of his governor, calling for a chariot race to be held in the city. The day of the event came and thousands filled the arena. Once the spectators were inside, the gates were locked and Theodosius’ soldiers descended upon the crowd. Seven thousand spectators were slaughtered over the course of three hours.
Ambrose was not only appalled but furious. Although no longer possessing political power, he did have the power of the state-sanctioned church. He wrote a courteous but direct, two-fisted letter to Theodosius:
Listen, august Emperor. I cannot deny that you have a zeal for the faith; I do confess that you have the fear of God. But you have a natural vehemence, which, if anyone endeavors to soothe, you quickly turn to mercy; if anyone stirs it up, you rouse it so much more that you can scarcely restrain it. Would that if no one soothe it, at least no one may inflame it! To yourself I willingly entrust it, you restrain yourself, and overcome your natural vehemence by the love of piety.
You are a man, and it has come upon you, conquer it. Sin is not done away but by tears and penitence. Neither angel can do it, nor archangel. The Lord Himself, Who alone can say, “I am with you,” if we have sinned, does not forgive any but those who repent.
Do not add another sin to your sin by a course of action which has injured many.4
Ambrose didn’t stop with a letter: he excommunicated the emperor. Theodosius was not allowed to attend church or receive the sacraments until he came before Ambrose, humbled himself, repented, and asked forgiveness of God.
Theodosius did so, stepping before the altar, removing his purple robes, and prostrating himself. But Ambrose was not satisfied until the most powerful man in the country had repeated this action several times. On Christmas day, Ambrose accepted the emperor’s evidence of repentance. Later, Theodosius would say, “The only man I know worthy of the name Bishop is Ambrose.”5
In what must be one of his most significant acts of humility and forgiveness, Ambrose held Theodosius in his arms as the emperor died. At Theodosius’ funeral, Ambrose said, “I confess I love him, and felt the sorrow of his death in the abyss of my heart.”
Ambrose’s willingness to confront power proved to be a turning point in the church. Once the empire “became Christian,” it placed itself under the authority of church leaders. Ambrose was the first to use the power of the church to sway the actions of a country. This would happen many times in the decades ahead.
In light of these acts of bravery, these monumental stands against heresy and government abuse, it might be easy to overlook another major change in the church: music. Congregational singing is common in the contemporary church. It’s hard to imagine attending worship where singing doesn’t take place. In most evangelical churches, music makes up a significant portion of the service. That hasn’t always been the case. It was Ambrose, a lover of music, who brought singing to the churches. He wrote as many as eighteen hymns that influenced the church in the East and the West. The exact number is debated by scholars, but Augustine links Ambrose with church music.6 According to Augustine, the music provided spiritual relief for the church during the stressful times it endured in Milan, and the custom continued.
A man of Ambrose’s stature and accomplishment had many opportunities to directly influence the lives of others. After hearing one of Ambrose’s famous sermons, a skeptical man sought Ambrose afterward, and eventually became one of his students. Ambrose mentored this student for four years. This student of Ambrose, Augustine of Hippo, would soon change the church in ways that surpassed his famous teacher.
Ambrose never set out to be a church leader. His was the world of politics and public service. In the end, however, he became a church-shaper through his courageous stand for doctrinal purity, obedience of state to the church, the introduction of music in worship, and in the mentoring of one of the greatest church shapers and theologians of all: Augustine of Hippo.