The feast of St Ambrose and the recycling of responsories (Responsories Pt 4)

Late antique mosaic in St.Ambrogio church in Milan
Source: Wiki commons

St Ambrose

Today is the feast of St Ambrose, a wonderful saint, who Pope Benedict XVI, in a  General Audience you can read here credited with the introduction of lectio divina to the West.

One of his key works to this end is his commentary on Psalm 118, which has as its base a translation and adaption of Origen's (now lost except in the form of catena extracts) commentary on the longest of the psalms, which had also been translated into Latin (with some amendments) independently by St Hilary of Poitiers a few decades earlier.  

St Ambrose's commentary though, is some four times larger than St Hilary's version, expanded by instruction on lectio divina; its links to contemplation through an embedded commentary on the Song of Songs; as well as an extended discussion of humility that may have influenced the ordering of the twelve steps of humility in the Rule as well as the organisation of  Psalm 118 in the Benedictine Office (1). 

The responsories and memory

I hope to come back to St Ambrose's influence on St Benedict in due course, but today I want to continue my discussion of the responsory repertoire of Matins, picking up from the point I made yesterday about it being a largely oral repertoire for several centuries.

One of the key questions for the responsories is, what strategies did monks use to maintain the repertoire?

Memorising

Most people's memories in late antiquity were, of course, much better trained than ours.  Monks for example, were expected to memorise the entire psalter and be able to sing it from memory.  

But then as now, some found it much easier to do than others.  There are two nice saint's stories that draw out just how major an undertaking this could be.   Many monks could learn the psalter in a year or so.  St Alexander the Sleepless, however, a Syrian monk who eventually ended up in Constantinople, and famous for the perpetual liturgy he established there, which involved shifts of monks,  apparently took seven years to learn the psalter, because, his biographer tells us, he insisted on knowing their meanings as he learnt them (2).

Similarly, when the seventh century Northumbrian monk (later bishop) St Wilfrid decided to make a pilgrimage to Rome, he first headed for Kent, where he spent a year relearning the psalter according to the version in use in Rome, as he had previously learnt St Jerome's other translation (3).

Collective memory

Even with this effort though, it is unlikely that all monks learnt all of the responsories.

Monks generally learned large chunks of Scripture by heart for example, but some early sources suggest that different monks in a community would learn different sections of Scripture, and then would be responsible for those particular readings in the Office.  Over time of course, greater availability of books, certainly implied by St Benedict's Rule, probably reduced the need for this.  But something similar could well have occurred with responsories, with different monks responsible for maintaining different parts of the repertoire.

The other key factor in their maintenance though, was the repurposing of  responsories for different feasts and occasions.

'Stock' responsories (1) The saints

For feasts like today's of St Ambrose, for example, there are actually no responsories specific to the saint in the Roman or Benedictine Offices even today.  Instead, the responsories linked to the feast are those of the 'Common of a confessor bishop and doctor'.

Similarly, two of today's 'Advent' responsories actually are actually also used on the feast of the Annunciation, possibly remnants of the original placement of this feast before Christmas rather than in March.

This practice of reusing responsories for different feasts is nicely attested to by a ninth century antiphoner from Prüm dating from the 860s which represents the earliest surviving Benedictine antiphoner, and which Todd Mattingly has argued is derived from a now lost exemplar that was intended to serve as a kind of how to say the Benedictine (rather than Roman) Office starter-kit, including where to source the additional responsories needed, such as from the various Commons (4).

Properization?

And unlike the Mass, where 'properization' (fixing of texts to particular feasts) seems to have largely finalised by at least the eighth century (and probably a lot earlier for many days), there seems to have been a great deal more flexibility around which responsories were used and when until quite late, probably reflecting that earlier reliance on memory and perhaps dependence on the availability of particular singers for particular chants.

The late tenth century Hartker MSS, for example, gives a choice of fourteen different responsories for the common of a confessor, for example, two more than could ever be needed.  By contrast, it only lists three responsories for the feast of All Saints.  That doesn't mean that only three responsories were said however - even in the 1960 version, the feast  has only two unique responsories; the rest are drawn from the feasts of various saints and from the commons.

All of this has important implications for the history of the Office, not least because several historians have pointed to the lack of a sufficient number of responsories in early antiphoners as a key plank for their claims that the Benedictine Office was not said in Gaul or Anglo-Saxon England until the tenth century, and that the Carolingian reforms aimed at imposing the Rule and Office on all monks were probably never fully implemented in practice (5).

But more on this anon.

Missus est angelus

In the meantime, enjoy this version of one of today's responsories, also used for the feast of the Annunciation:

R. Missus est / Gábriel Angelus ad Maríam Vírginem desponsátam Ioseph, † núntians ei verbum; et expavéscit Virgo de lúmine: † ne tímeas, María, invenísti grátiam apud Dóminum: * Ecce concípies, et páries, † et vocábitur Altíssimi Fílius. V. Dabit ei Dóminus Deus sedem David, patris eius, et regnábit in domo Iacob in ætérnum. R. Ecce concípies, et páries, † et vocábitur Altíssimi Fílius.

R. The Angel Gabriel was sent to Mary, a Virgin espoused to Joseph, to bring unto her the word of the Lord, and when the Virgin saw the light, she was afraid. Fear not, Mary, for thou hast found grace from the Lord. * Behold, thou shalt conceive and bring forth a son, and He shall be called the Son of the Highest. V. The Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of His father David, and He shall reign over the house of Jacob forever. R. Behold, thou shalt conceive, and bring forth a son, and He shall be called the Son of the Highest.

You can find a copy of the chant setting here.

Notes

1.  For a discussion of the differences between Hilary and Ambrose's translations, with comparisons to the Palestinian catena, see Isabella Image, The Human Condition in Hilary of Poitiers The Will and Original Sin between Origen and Augustine, Oxford, 2017.

2.  Translations of the Life of St Alexander the Sleepless can be found in Daniel Caner, Wandering, Begging Monks Spiritual Authority and the Promotion of Monasticism in Late Antiquity, University of California Press, 2002, pp 250 - 280 and Jean-marie Baguendard (trans), Les Moines acémètes, Vies des Saints Alexandre, Marcel et Jean Calybite, Bellefintaine, 1988.

3. Eddius Stephanus, Life of Wilfrid.  A translation by J F Webb is available in Penguin under the title the Age of Bede.  It is not clear that Wilfrid needed the entire year to relearn the psalter - his hagiographer claims he was held up in Kent in part by the need to find a satisfactory escort  and obtain royal permission for his departure.  But as Susan Rankin pointed out in 'Singing the Psalter in the Early Middle Ages' (in Daniel J Di Censo and Rebecca Maloy eds, Chant, Liturgy and the Inheritance of Rome Essays in Honour of Joseph Dyer, London 2017), it was not simply a matter of learning the variant texts, but also absorbing differences in how the psalms were divided into verses and sub-divided for pause places.

4. Todd Matthew Mattingly, "Trier Stadtbibliothek 1245/597:A Ninth-Century Antiphoner and the Conciliar Origins of the Monastic Office", paper given at the Leeds Medieval Congress, July 2014.

5.  Anne Walters Robertson, The Service-Books of the Royal Abbey of Saint-Denis Images of Ritual and Music in the Middle Ages,  Oxford, 1991; Jesse Billett, The Divine Office in Anglo-Saxon England, 597-c.1000. London: Henry Bradshaw Society, 2014.

December 7: St Ambrose, Class III

Saint Ambrose (340-397), was bishop of Milan, and is a doctor of the Church. 

Pope Benedict XVI gave a General Audience on the saint in October 2007:

"Holy Bishop Ambrose - about whom I shall speak to you today - died in Milan in the night between 3 and 4 April 397. It was dawn on Holy Saturday. The day before, at about five o'clock in the afternoon, he had settled down to pray, lying on his bed with his arms wide open in the form of a cross. Thus, he took part in the solemn Easter Triduum, in the death and Resurrection of the Lord. "We saw his lips moving", said Paulinus, the faithful deacon who wrote his Life at St Augustine's suggestion, "but we could not hear his voice". The situation suddenly became dramatic. Honoratus, Bishop of Vercelli, who was assisting Ambrose and was sleeping on the upper floor, was awoken by a voice saying again and again, "Get up quickly! Ambrose is dying...". "Honoratus hurried downstairs", Paulinus continues, "and offered the Saint the Body of the Lord. As soon as he had received and swallowed it, Ambrose gave up his spirit, taking the good Viaticum with him. His soul, thus refreshed by the virtue of that food, now enjoys the company of Angels" (Life, 47). On that Holy Friday 397, the wide open arms of the dying Ambrose expressed his mystical participation in the death and Resurrection of the Lord. This was his last catechesis: in the silence of the words, he continued to speak with the witness of his life.

Ambrose was not old when he died. He had not even reached the age of 60, since he was born in about 340 A.D. in Treves, where his father was Prefect of the Gauls. His family was Christian.

Upon his father's death while he was still a boy, his mother took him to Rome and educated him for a civil career, assuring him a sound instruction in rhetoric and jurisprudence. In about 370 he was sent to govern the Provinces of Emilia and Liguria, with headquarters in Milan. It was precisely there that the struggle between orthodox and Arians was raging and became particularly heated after the death of the Arian Bishop Auxentius. Ambrose intervened to pacify the members of the two opposing factions; his authority was such that although he was merely a catechumen, the people acclaimed him Bishop of Milan.

Until that moment, Ambrose had been the most senior magistrate of the Empire in northern Italy. Culturally well-educated but at the same time ignorant of the Scriptures, the new Bishop briskly began to study them. From the works of Origen, the indisputable master of the "Alexandrian School", he learned to know and to comment on the Bible. Thus, Ambrose transferred to the Latin environment the meditation on the Scriptures which Origen had begun, introducing in the West the practice of lectio divina. The method of lectio served to guide all of Ambrose's preaching and writings, which stemmed precisely from prayerful listening to the Word of God. The famous introduction of an Ambrosian catechesis shows clearly how the holy Bishop applied the Old Testament to Christian life: "Every day, when we were reading about the lives of the Patriarchs and the maxims of the Proverbs, we addressed morality", the Bishop of Milan said to his catechumens and neophytes, "so that formed and instructed by them you may become accustomed to taking the path of the Fathers and to following the route of obedience to the divine precepts" (On the Mysteries 1, 1). In other words, the neophytes and catechumens, in accordance with the Bishop's decision, after having learned the art of a well-ordered life, could henceforth consider themselves prepared for Christ's great mysteries. Thus, Ambrose's preaching - which constitutes the structural nucleus of his immense literary opus - starts with the reading of the Sacred Books ("the Patriarchs" or the historical Books and "Proverbs", or in other words, the Wisdom Books) in order to live in conformity with divine Revelation.

It is obvious that the preacher's personal testimony and the level of exemplarity of the Christian community condition the effectiveness of the preaching. In this perspective, a passage from St Augustine's Confessions is relevant. He had come to Milan as a teacher of rhetoric; he was a sceptic and not Christian. He was seeking the Christian truth but was not capable of truly finding it.

What moved the heart of the young African rhetorician, sceptic and downhearted, and what impelled him to definitive conversion was not above all Ambrose's splendid homilies (although he deeply appreciated them). It was rather the testimony of the Bishop and his Milanese Church that prayed and sang as one intact body. It was a Church that could resist the tyrannical ploys of the Emperor and his mother, who in early 386 again demanded a church building for the Arians' celebrations. In the building that was to be requisitioned, Augustine relates, "the devout people watched, ready to die with their Bishop". This testimony of the Confessions is precious because it points out that something was moving in Augustine, who continues: "We too, although spiritually tepid, shared in the excitement of the whole people" (Confessions 9, 7).

Augustine learned from the life and example of Bishop Ambrose to believe and to preach. We can refer to a famous sermon of the African, which centuries later merited citation in the conciliar Constitution on Divine Revelation, Dei Verbum: "Therefore, all clerics, particularly priests of Christ and others who, as deacons or catechists, are officially engaged in the ministry of the Word", Dei Verbum recommends, "should immerse themselves in the Scriptures by constant sacred reading and diligent study. For it must not happen that anyone becomes" - and this is Augustine's citation - ""an empty preacher of the Word of God to others, not being a hearer of the Word in his own heart'" (n. 25). Augustine had learned precisely from Ambrose how to "hear in his own heart" this perseverance in reading Sacred Scripture with a prayerful approach, so as truly to absorb and assimilate the Word of God in one's heart.

Dear brothers and sisters, I would like further to propose to you a sort of "patristic icon", which, interpreted in the light of what we have said, effectively represents "the heart" of Ambrosian doctrine. In the sixth book of the Confessions, Augustine tells of his meeting with Ambrose, an encounter that was indisputably of great importance in the history of the Church. He writes in his text that whenever he went to see the Bishop of Milan, he would regularly find him taken up with catervae of people full of problems for whose needs he did his utmost. There was always a long queue waiting to talk to Ambrose, seeking in him consolation and hope. When Ambrose was not with them, with the people (and this happened for the space of the briefest of moments), he was either restoring his body with the necessary food or nourishing his spirit with reading. Here Augustine marvels because Ambrose read the Scriptures with his mouth shut, only with his eyes (cf. Confessions, 6, 3). Indeed, in the early Christian centuries reading was conceived of strictly for proclamation, and reading aloud also facilitated the reader's understanding. That Ambrose could scan the pages with his eyes alone suggested to the admiring Augustine a rare ability for reading and familiarity with the Scriptures. Well, in that "reading under one's breath", where the heart is committed to achieving knowledge of the Word of God - this is the "icon" to which we are referring -, one can glimpse the method of Ambrosian catechesis; it is Scripture itself, intimately assimilated, which suggests the content to proclaim that will lead to the conversion of hearts.

Thus, with regard to the magisterium of Ambrose and of Augustine, catechesis is inseparable from witness of life. What I wrote on the theologian in the Introduction to Christianity might also be useful to the catechist. An educator in the faith cannot risk appearing like a sort of clown who recites a part "by profession". Rather - to use an image dear to Origen, a writer who was particularly appreciated by Ambrose -, he must be like the beloved disciple who rested his head against his Master's heart and there learned the way to think, speak and act. The true disciple is ultimately the one whose proclamation of the Gospel is the most credible and effective.

Like the Apostle John, Bishop Ambrose - who never tired of saying: "Omnia Christus est nobis! To us Christ is all!" - continues to be a genuine witness of the Lord. Let us thus conclude our Catechesis with his same words, full of love for Jesus: "Omnia Christus est nobis! If you have a wound to heal, he is the doctor; if you are parched by fever, he is the spring; if you are oppressed by injustice, he is justice; if you are in need of help, he is strength; if you fear death, he is life; if you desire Heaven, he is the way; if you are in the darkness, he is light.... Taste and see how good is the Lord: blessed is the man who hopes in him!" (De Virginitate, 16, 99). Let us also hope in Christ. We shall thus be blessed and shall live in peace."