St. Ambrose's Foot-Washing Rebellion

 In English, Holy Thursday is traditionally known as Maundy Thursday, that is “Commandment Thursday” (maundy coming from the Latin mandatum, “commandment”). For this day is the day that Christ gave His Apostles a commandment, and not just the commandment of the Eucharist, but a commandment of love: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love each other, even as I have loved you” (Jn 13:34).¹

Though this commandment is given later in the Last Supper, as Jesus is beginning His long Johannine discourse, it is typically linked back to the foot-washing at the beginning of John 13, where Jesus similarly declares “If I, therefore, the Lord and master, have washed your feet, you too ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example so that, just as I have done to you, so you, too, should do” (Jn 13:14-15). So the “Maundy” of Maundy Thursday is taken to mean the commandment of foot-washing, of service, of love, rather than the commandment of the Eucharist.

A Holy Thursday foot-washing has long been a practice in the Roman Church—and occasionally in the Orthodox Churches—in emulation of Jesus’ example. But it need not be a once-a-year event: the early Christians went out and washed the feet of the poor throughout the year, as an act of service and humility, a practice that Pope Francis recalls when he takes the Holy Thursday foot-washing outside the church, into prisons and other places.

Foot-washing, then, can be a liturgical re-enactment of Christ’s acts at the Last Supper, and it can be a non-liturgical act of service. But it can also have another liturgical use, though rare, and it is best represented by St. Ambrose.

St. Ambrose was Bishop of Milan, mentor and baptizer of St. Augustine (and the one who taught him how to read silently),² and a prolific writer—and even more prolific if one counts all the later works stamped with his name, such as the Pauline commentator known as “Ambrosiaster.” Milan was a stubborn town, liturgically, so much so that, even after the Council of Trent, they kept their own liturgical rite, the Milanese Rite, better known as the Ambrosian Rite.

Under Ambrose’s name, we have two mystagogical works, sermons giving to the neophytes, the newly-baptized, explaining the meaning of the rites they had experienced at the Paschal Vigil.³ Whether these works were written for publication or were merely notes put together by listeners is unclear; certainly the shorter of the two works—On the Mysteries—seems more cliff-note-like, while the much longer work—On the Sacraments—seems more likely geared for publication. Both cover the same general topics, though with some different emphases and details, so it is assumed that, if they are based on courses of sermons St. Ambrose gave, that they are based on two different years’ sermons.

These two works, along with other mystagogical works, are key sources for learning about the liturgical rites of the Fathers’ time, including its regional differences. Among such differences is foot-washing during the rite of Baptism.

On the Mysteries only half-discusses this ritual. He mentions how the neophyte “ascended from the font, with the Evangelic reading having been brought to mind” (VI.31). This reading is that of the washing of the apostles’ feet, and, in it, Peter “did not notice the Mystery, and, therefore, he denied the ministry, since he believed that, if he patiently accepted the Lord’s yielding to him, it would weigh down the servant’s humility” (VI.31). Yet Jesus rebuked him, and declared that, in order to be all clean, Peter had to have his feet washed—but only his feet, not his hands and head. So, too—it is implied—the one who is baptized has had the head and hands of his soul washed: all that remains is the washing of his feet. So Ambrose pleads the neophyte to “recognize that the Mystery consists in that same ministry of humility... For when the Author of Salvation redeemed us through obedience, how much more ought we, His servants, to exhibit the yieldingness of humility and obedience!” (VI.33)

The neophyte, then, had his feet washed after his Baptism (after he “ascended from the font”), as an example of humility and obedience. But there is something else here: this foot-washing is described as a mystery. Byzantine ears perk up at this, for Mystery is what we call a Sacrament. We can see this in the parallel titles of Ambrose’s two works: On the Mysteries and On the Sacraments cover the same topic. Is Ambrose saying, then, that foot-washing is a Sacrament? (Some Orthodox have said so throughout the centuries.) The hints in this cliff-note text are small, but the issue is clear when we turn to On the Sacraments.

Here, Ambrose makes clear what happens: “You ascended from the font, what followed? You heard the reading. The high priest being girded...he washed your feet” (III.1.4). Again, this is called a Mystery, and a wondrous one: “See all justice, see humility, see grace, see sanctification: Unless I wash, He says, your feet, you will not have My part (Jn 13:8)” (III.1.4).

But here Ambrose goes further, discussing, not just the Mystery itself, but how others view it: “We are not ignorant that the Roman Church does not have this custom, she whose time and form we follow in everything: yet she does not have this custom, that she washes feet. See, then, perhaps she declined because of the multitude [of neophytes]. Yet there are those who say—and try to excuse [her]--that this is not to be done in a Mystery, not in regeneration, but that feet are to be washed like guests. One is of humility, the other of sanctification. Therefore, hear that it is a Mystery and sanctification: Unless I wash your feet, you will not have My part (Jn 13:8)” (III.1.5). He boldly affirms that what he is doing is not what Rome does: here he refuses to comply. This refusal not just the stubbornness of local tradition, but a principled refusal: to remove the foot-washing from the Baptismal rite is to deny the theology.

In On the Mysteries, the foot-washing is mainly discussed as an example of humility and “yieldingness” (the root Latin term used in that passage is obsequium); here, it is specifically not mere humility. Washing the feet “like guests” is an act of humility (one that, I think, Ambrose would approve of in other contexts); here, though, it is an act of sanctification.

But, why? Is not Baptism sanctification enough? “In Baptism, all fault is washed away” (III.1.7); “for our own [hereditary sins] are unloosed in Baptism” (Mysteries VI.32). How can foot-washing be required on top of this? The key, for Ambrose, is Peter’s back-and-forth with Christ, where Jesus clarifies that Peter only needs his feet washed, not his hands and head. Why? Because “since Adam was supplanted by the devil (cf. Gen 3:6), and he poured forth venom on his feet, therefore, you wash feet, so that, to that part for which the serpent waited in ambush, the help⁴ of greater sanctification might come, because which, afterwards, he cannot supplant you” (Sacraments III.I.7).

We could view this in two ways: first, the feet may be getting an extra aid (“greater sanctification”), since they represent where the devil constantly waits to strike us; second, this washing may be a completion of the Baptismal washing. Perhaps, in Ambrose’s practice, a Baptism was not a full-body immersion: maybe it was only a dunking of the head, arms, and torso. In that case, the feet remained “unbaptized,” and so the sacramental foot-washing was necessary.

Whichever the case was, Ambrose certainly saw his foot-washing as sacramental and necessary, with Jn 13:8 as the proof text. So necessary was it to him that he even dared to defy Rome. “In everything, I desire to follow the Roman Church, yet we, men, also have sense; therefore, what is rightly preserved elsewhere, we also rightly keep” (III.1.5). As if that wasn’t enough, he claims the Petrine link: “We follow the apostle Peter himself, we cling to his devotion. How does the Roman Church respond to this? Certainly, the author of this assertion of ours is Peter the apostle, who was a priest of the Roman Church” (III.1.6).

How long did this stubbornness hold out after Ambrose’s death? Quite a while, it seems: some Ambrosian Rite sacramentaries of the 11^th and 12^th centuries include the post-Baptismal foot-washing.⁵ A 1640 Missale Ambrosianum, though, simply mentions that the baptizands are to be baptized “in the accustomed way,” with no further details given.⁶ The Catholic Encyclopedia’s entry on the Ambrosian Rite, which includes a brief summary of the order of Baptism, has no mention of foot-washing.⁷ I’ve not yet gotten my hands on a modern Ambrosian missal, but it seems likely the foot-washing was eventually removed, and St. Ambrose’s rebellion against Rome quashed. (Perhaps St. Charles Borromeo’s reform of the rite had something to do with it? Obviously, this is just speculation.)

All in all, the episode of St. Ambrose and the foot-washing rebellion is a quirk of liturgical history, though one that does prod us to think further on Jesus’ words: Unless I wash your feet, you will not have My part (Jn 13:8). Did He say this merely to the Apostles, or did He say it to us as well? If to us, how does He wash our feet today, and what part of His would we lack without it?

Murky thoughts for a Maundy day.

 

1A bit of a Ruthenian in-joke here: the switch-over from the 1970s liturgical translation (the “Blue Book”) to the 2000s translation (the “Green Book”) included some fairly minor changes in very well-known texts. So now, at Pascha, Christ “tramples” death instead of “conquering” it, and He now saves those in the “tombs,” rather than the “graves.” A similar issue happened with this Gospel verse, which became the text of a popular paraliturgical hymn. The translation I gave above is the currently-used one; the Blue Book version reads “This new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, just as I have so loved you.” My first parish—due to an indult—still used the Blue Book texts after the Green Book was released, so those were my first Byzantine translations. Though I’ve adapted to the new version of the Paschal troparion, I still get tripped up by “This/A new commandment” every time we sing it.

2See St. Augustine, Confessions VI.3: “But when he read, his eyes were led through the pages and his heart probed the meaning, but his voice and tongue lay still. Often, when we were present...we thus saw him reading, quietly and never elsewise, and sitting in long-lasting silence.”

3For a bit more on the concept of mystagogy, see my article “The Awe-Inspiring Mysteries: The Importance of Mystagogy,” Homiletic & Pastoral Review, 8/09/2015, https://www.hprweb.com/2015/08/the-awe-inspiring-mysteries/. My undergraduate seminar analyzed the mystagogical works of St. Ambrose, St. John Chrysostom, St. Cyril of Jerusalem, and Theodore of Mopsuestia.

4 More literally, the term subsidium often refers to a reserve of troops, which fits well with the description of Satan “lying in ambush.”

5I’m taking this information second-hand, from Gene Finnegan, “Ambrosian liturgical texts,” 4/05/2023, https://memoriesofan80yearoldguy.home.blog/2023/04/05/ambrosian-liturgical-texts/ (accessed March 29, 2024).

6Missale Ambrosianum (Milan: Jo. Ambrosium Sirturum, 1640), 167. Confusingly, the volume is divided into two, separately-paginated sections. This reference is to the second section.

7See H. Jenner, “Ambrosian Liturgy and Rite,” in The Catholic Encyclopedia, Volume I (New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1907), reprinted at https://www.newadvent.org/cathen/01394a.htm (accessed March 30, 2024).

 

 Note: The cited passages from St. Ambrose can be found in PL 16:398B-399A (On the Mysteries) and PL 16:432B-433C (On the Sacraments).

 

Text ©2024 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the author.

 

Hymn: When Time Had Come for Christ to Die

In a blog post from 2014, reflecting on Good Friday, I included a hymn I had written, to be set to the tune JESU DULCIS MEMORIA.  Almost ten years later, I have finally prepared this musical setting:

Scribd mirror: https://www.scribd.com/document/706718005/When-Time-Had-Come-for-Christ-to-Die

 

The bare text of the hymn is here:

 

When time had come for Christ to die,

and Judas had betrayed Him by

a twisted kiss for silver's gain,

the sky did not hold back its rain.

His Blood upon the ground did fall

as guards brought Him the bitter gall.

The sun did darken in that hour

for sorrow did it overpower.

In two spots did blood run that day,

from the betrayer, from betrayed,

in Akeldama's soiled field,

on Golgotha where thunder pealed.

Sixth hour passed when He was nailed,

Ninth hour now the One who's hailed

as He Who comes in the Lord's name

will die the death of the infame.

One thief to Heaven, one to Hell:

the Psalm is now the Lord's death knell.

And letting out His final breath,

the Christ has fin'lly come to death.

Silence now reigns upon the earth,

soaked by the blood of countless worth.

In sorrow is now sealed the Tomb,

of glorious birth the second womb.

 

Hymn Text ©2014 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the author.

Pseudo-Augustine: The Biting and Slaying of Hell (Sermon CLX)

 Introduction

It was long a tradition for unknown writers to sign a famous author's names to their works; sometimes, the work was half by the purported author anyway.  The homily translated below is nominally attributed to St. Augustine, but scholars reject it as spurious.  Some pieces of it can be traced to other writers: a large portion of §1 is copied from St. Gregory the Great's Homilies on the Gospels XXII.6 (PL76:1177B-D).  The editor of the Latin text claims portions of §§2-3 are taken, respectively, from the homilies on Pascha and on the Ascension by a certain Eusebius, but I have not yet located the source.  

Sermon CLX

On Pascha II

The Biting and Slaying of Hell

 

1. The Passion or resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, beloved brethren, all of the volumes of the Old Testament spoke of beforehand in many ways, so that, even through the mouth of David the prophet, the Holy Spirit clearly shows this, saying, A God of vengeance is the Lord, the God of vengeance acts to free (Ps 94:1). For He alone acts to free, He Who shows us today what He did. For He acts to free, about which there were many prophecies beforehand, since He became like a man without help, free among the dead (Ps 88:4-5). But do you want to know what He did? Hear what He did. Without any necessity, but by His own will, He permitted Himself to be hanged on the wood, He did not forbid nails to pierce His body, He allowed the putting of His soul to death, He rested His flesh in the sepulchre, and, His soul accompanying Him, He descended into hell. Through this, the elect, who, although they were in the bosom of tranquility, were yet held in the cloisters of hell, were led back to the pleasant plains of paradise. What He said before His Passion, the Lord fulfilled in His resurrection: If I am raised up, He said, from the earth, I will draw all unto Me (Jn 12:32). For He drew all, He Who left none of His elect in hell: He took all away, namely, the elect. For the Lord, arising, did not bring to pardon the unfaithful and those given over to eternal tortures due to their crimes, but he snatched from the cloisters of hell those whom He recognized as His own in faith and acts. Wherefore it is rightly said by Hosea too: I will be your death, O death; I will be your bite, hell (Hos 13:14). For what we slay, we act so that it will not be at all; but, out of that which we bite, we take out a part and we leave a part: therefore, since, among His elect, He completely slew death, there was the death of death; but, since He took a part out of hell and left a part, He did not completely slay, but bit, hell. Therefore He says, I will be your death, O death, as if He openly said, “Since I will completely destroy you in My elect.” I will be your bite, hell, “since, taking away My own, I will cut you into parts.” For, at that time, our Lord Jesus Christ tied up that prince of darkness and death, troubled his legions, shattered the iron bars of hell’s gates, loosed all of the just, who had been tightly held by original sin, called the captives back to pristine liberty, infused with splendid light those blinded by the darkness of sins.

2. Behold, you have heard described how our defender, the Lord of vengeance, acted to free. For, after He was exalted, that is, hung on the Cross by the Jews—so that I might briefly smush everything together—immediately, when He handed over His spirit, His soul, united to his divinity, descended into hell’s depths. And when, like some splendid and terrible despoiler, He reached the end of the darkness, the impious and Tartarean legions, spying Him, terrified and trembling, began to inquire, saying, “Who is this one, terrible and flashing with snowy splendor? Never has our Tartarus received such a one, never has the world vomited such a one into our cavern. He is an invader, not a debtor; He is an demander, not a pleader; we see a judge, not a supplicant. He comes to command, not to succumb, to rip out, not to remain. Why did our porters sleep when this warrior vexed our cloisters? If he were guilty, he would not be so powerful. If any sin had darkened him, never would our Tartarus have scattered at his shining. If he is God, why did he come? If man, how does he presume so? If God, what is he doing in a sepulchre? If man, why does he loose sinners? Did he make a pact with our author, or, perhaps, fight and conquer him, and so ascend to our kingdoms? Certainly he is dead, certainly he is conquered. Our fighter was ridiculed; he didn’t know that this one would obtain the overthrow of hell, that Cross deceiving our joy, giving birth to our damnation. Through wood, we were made rich, through wood, we were overthrown; that power, always formidable to the people, perishes. No living one has entered here, no one has terrified the torturers, never has a joyful light appeared in this filthy and black place, always blinded by fog. Or perhaps the sun has come over from the world? But neither heaven nor stars appear to us, and yet hell shines. We cannot defend the custody of our prison against him. Badly did we enter the contest; we didn’t know how to darken such a light, and, moreover, we are terrified of our downfall.

3. “Wherefore is he so splendid, so strong, so brilliant, and so terrible? That world that was subject to us, and always offered tributes of the dead for our uses, never sent such a one to us, never destined such gifts for hell. Therefore, who is this, who so intrepidously enters our bounds, and not only does not respect our tortures, but even frees others from our chains? Perhaps he is the one of whom our prince spoke a little time ago, who, by his death, would receive power over the whole world? But if this is he, the sentence of our warrior is turned backwards, and, while he saw himself as having conquered, rather was he himself conquered and made prostrate. O our prince, is this the one about whose future death you always congratulated yourself? Is he the one by whose cross you thought the whole world would be subjected to you? Is he the one from whose death you promised such spoils for us? What is it that you’ve done? What is it that you wanted to do? Behold, now he has set all of your darkness to flight by his splendor, and he has shattered all your prisons, cast off the captives, loosed the bound, changed their sorrow into joy. Behold, those who were wont to sigh beneath our torments insult us, having received salvation, and now they not only fear nothing, but they even make threats. Never have captives thus been proud over death, nor at any time been able to be so joyous. Why did you want to lead this one here, he by whose coming all who before were despairing are returned to joy? No one now hears their usual bellowing, no groans resound. But the transaction of the redemption of the captive has been accomplished. O our prince, those riches of yours, which you first acquired through the loss of paradise, you have now lost through the Cross; all your joy perishes, your joys are turned into sorrow. While you hang Christ on the wood, you don’t know how many injuries you suffer in hell. Could you not foresee that you were leading the overthrower of your kingdom into death, without any charge? If you attend to the cause, you require a fault. Him in whom you found no evil, why did you lead him into our fatherland? You brought him free, and you lost all the damned.”

4. After these cries from the cruel infernal ministers, without any delay, at the command of our Lord and Savior, all the iron bars were broken, and, behold, at once innumerable peoples of the saints, who were held captive in death, swarming about the Savior’s knees, with tearful plea, demanded of Him, saying: “You have come, Redeemer of the world; You have come, Whom we, desiring, have daily hoped for; You have come, Whom the Law and Prophets announced to us would come; You have come, giving indulgence to the sinners of the world, living in flesh: loose the dead and captives of hell. You have come after long tears; pull us out, You Who alone suffered for us. Maker of the heavens, You deigned to enter hell; for our sighs called to You, long laments demanded You, wherefore there is hope for the hopeless, wherefore consolation for the tormented. In Your coming, our chains fell, night fled away. At the coming of life, death dies, nor does torturer nor beater remain. The prayers of the damned have succeeded: the Creator rules, not the invader. Chains are wrapped around the tyrant, and our torturer squirms with pain. Loose, Redeemer of the world, the dead and captives of hell. You have descended to hell for us; do not leave us when You return to the realms above. You placed the title of glory in the world; place the sign of victory in hell.”

5. No delay: after He heard the request and discussion of the innumerable captives, at once all the ancient just, at the Lord’s command, received the rights of power, and they immediately turned the torments against their torturers, with humble supplication, with ineffable joy, crying out to the Lord, and saying, “Ascend, Lord Jesus, having despoiled hell, and, having wrapped the author of death in chains, return joy to the world now. Let Your faithful rejoice in Your ascension, beholding the scars on Your body.” Christ did this, as it was said above. Having taken spoils in hell, alive, He departed from the sepulchre; He arose by His own power, and again dressed Himself in immaculate flesh. He appeared to His disciples, so to take doubt away from the unbelieving; He showed the wounds of the nails, so that He would leave no suspicion for the Manichees.¹ Publicly He ate and drank; afterwards, then, He appeared in the sight of many. He ascended into the heavens on a cloud, and set Himself in His seat at the right hand of the Father, from which the Word had never separated. Therefore, let the Christian people exalt, for whom Christ’s blood was shed. Let all rejoice in the Lord, we who solemnly celebrate the resurrection of the flesh in Christ. Let the whole Catholic Church through all the world be glad, since Christ the Lord both diminished nothing of His divinity and freed man whom He had made. Wherefore, exulting, with humble voice, let us supplicate Him, so that He might deign to take us, for whom He did these things, freed from the hand of hell, with Him, when He comes into the world: to Him is honor and glory with the Father and the Holy Spirit unto the ages of ages. Amen.

1The Manichees (or Manicheans) believed that Jesus’ Passion, death, and Resurrection were only in appearance, not in reality, similar to the Docetists, who taught that Jesus’ body, as a whole, was merely an illusion and not real flesh.

 

Source: PL 39:2059-2061.

Translation ©2023 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the translator.

Jesus, the Slayer of Death

Today we remember Christ, the conqueror of Hades.  For death could not restrain Him, but He broke the bounds of death to bring the faithful departed to eternal life.  While His Body lay in the tomb, His soul was liberating the just.  Let us praise the Lord's mighty work this day, and let the following words of the great Aphrahat the Syrian (270-345) help us recall Jesus' glorious victory:

"Rejoice, Rabbi"

 

 "And immediately approaching Jesus [Judas] said, 'Rejoice, rabbi': and he kissed Him."--Mt 26:49

The apostate who ran to the high priests with the Bread of Heaven still in his mouth betrayed our Lord with a kiss.  What is a symbol of filial love, the kiss (φιληματος), Judas turned into a symbol of betrayal.  He who was one of the twelve chosen by Christ to follow Him gave full rein to his greed and allowed Satan entrance into his heart.  Since he betrayed with an act of love the Lover of Mankind, it is fitting that Jesus said, "It would be better for this man if he were never born."  And if the betrayal by an act of love were not horrific enough, ponder the words Judas spoke: "Rejoice, rabbi."

The Fruits of Repentance

Jesus Curses the Fig Tree (1684) by Ilyas Basim Khuri Bazzi Rahib

"O faithful let us fear the punishment of the fig tree which was dried up for not having borne any fruit; let us offer worthy fruits of repentance to Christ, who grant us His great mercy."

--From the Aposticha of Bridegroom Matins on Great and Holy Monday

When Christ hungered and approached the fig tree, He expected it to be bearing fruit; when it was not, He cursed it.  Just so, the foolish virgins not possessing oil were barred from the feast.  It is as if Christ said to them as He said to the high priests and the presbyters of the people, "For this I say to you that will be taken from you the kingdom of God, and it will be given to a nation producing the fruits of it."  This too will occur to us if we are not watchful, if we are not prepared in a wedding garment when the Lord comes to invite us into His bridal chamber engulfed in light.  Let us beg Him, "Fill the garment of my soul with light," and let us work to enkindle that light in ourselves.  Without an overflowing union with He Who is Light, "we are soulless wood, fruitless and withered, matter which is fit for the unquenchable fire" (St. Symeon the New Theologian).