Ambrose of Milan

Text: John 3:1-17

In the name of +Jesus+ 

Today, the Church remembers Ambrose of Milan. He is often remembered this time of year for the poignant hymn he wrote, and we sang this night, “Savior of the Nations, Come.” 

But, before becoming a theologian and hymn writer, Ambrose’s entrance into the Holy Ministry was quite unique. 

Ambrose was born in 4th Century Germany to a Roman government official. Like his father, he followed in the family business, becoming a Roman governor to a providence that included Milan.  

For all extensive purposes, Milan was a center of the Church. A conflict brewing over the church in Milan became a turning point in Ambrose’s life.

Two parties were vying to become the next bishop of Milan: the Catholics and the Arians. The previous bishop was an Arian, those heretics who denied Jesus as true God from eternity. In other words, they believed Jesus did not exist until His birth that first Christmas. 

While the Catholics and Arians sparred over the bishop’s seat, someone in the crowd yelled, "Ambrose for Bishop." Surprisingly, the two parties found agreement. We see how loved Ambrose was. However, there was a problem, Ambrose had not yet even been baptized; he was still a catechumen, a student of the faith.  

Despite lacking proper churchly order, Ambrose was baptized and fast-tracked as a deacon, presbyter, and finally a Bishop in one week. We can’t imagine doing this today, but as we reflect, we see how God was at work in Milan.   

Ambrose was steadfast in His faith and confession of Jesus, “the only-begotten Son of God, begotten of His Father before all worlds.”

Ambrose learned early on how the Arians were seducing the crowds through music and song. They knew if they could get a tune into one's head, it would be planted as seeds that bear fruit in due season. However, Ambrose said two can play this game, and from his work, we receive the jewel of the hymn we sang, “Savior of the Nations, Come.”

What I find so joyful and comforting is how the hymn simply and boldly confesses the eternal nature of Jesus and, in a way, encapsulates the entirety of the Second Article of the Creed. This is at the heart of many 4th-century controversies, including the conflict with Arianism. Who is Jesus? 

It’s a question still asked today by a world that resides in darkness. 

In tonight's second reading, Nicodemus, a teacher of Israel and student of the Torah, came to Jesus in the darkness of night. Maybe he came at night out of fear, perhaps it was the only time there was to meet, or maybe it reflects the “shared [blindness] of the Jews that Jesus is the Christ, the one of whom the Torah [always] spoke.”[1]

But, you see, one cannot read the Gospel of John without appreciating the symbolism that runs throughout his Gospel. For this reason, you have to see while Nicodemus appears to have the desire to learn, he also represents a greater confession of unbelief. An unbelief that leads a person to dwell in the darkness. 

We are not absent of this darkness. It manifests in our lives whenever we turn away from our Baptism, the rebirth from above of water and Spirit. Like Nicodemus, we struggle with how this mystery occurs in water and Word, just as the unbelieving world struggles with believing in the holy child, who was from eternity, and who laid upon the hay of a manger that first Christmas before being led to the cross on Good Friday. 

Still, this Savior came not only for you and me but for this world. John 3:16 provides those familiar and comforting words (although here is a more literal translation than you are used to):

For in this manner God loved the world. And so he [God] gave the Son—the only one—so that whoever believes in him might not perish but rather might have eternal life.[2]

From this beautiful passage, we learn how Jesus took upon Himself, the flesh of man, to redeem all mankind (Objective Justification). But it also instructs how the gift of this redemption requires every believer's individual faith and trust (Subjective Justification). 

Sadly, the scene we encounter this evening with Nicodemus and the early Church's battle with the Arians continues to encapsulate our continued struggle as a culture and people. There is an allure for us to attempt to argue with God, to make His ways fit into our ways, and for Him to accommodate our reason and rationale by accepting only the portions of Scripture we agree with. When we do this, we strive to put ourselves above God and His Word. 

But this is not what the Fathers of the Church, such as Ambrose, did. Instead, as disciples and students, they were submissive to the Word made flesh and simply received it as it was written and given to them. 

Ambrose was an unlikely theologian, thrust into the moment in many ways. But, I believe he continues to be an icon not only for the Church but especially for the Office of Holy Ministry. His love for his neighbor was most clearly present through his patient teaching, preaching, and, most importantly, his unwavering confession of Jesus Christ. 

And we can see examples of this ministry as Saint Monica approached Ambrose and asked him to catechize her dear son, Saint Augustine. And by doing so, God used Ambrose to teach and lead another Father of the Church to boldly confess the faith, whose writings are equally used to this day.  

In a more challenging situation, we learn of an interaction between Ambrose and Emperor Theodosius. In a fit of rage, the emperor ordered a massacre at Thessalonica. However, after hearing of the matter, Ambrose boldly stood at the front door of the Church to meet the emperor the next time he attended service and barred him from entering until he publicly repented of his sin. And the Emperor did as Ambrose called him to do. He repented and was welcomed back as a sheep returning to the fold. 

From these examples, we see how Ambrose was a patient teacher, and it should beg us to ask, do we patiently teach others the Christian faith, or are we willing to continue studying, ask questions, and grow in the faith as the young catechumens we remain?

But also, are we willing to honestly confess our sins? Are we willing to set aside the positions, titles, and offices of life to submit to Jesus as the emperor did? Ambrose could have lost his life by approaching him, but he demonstrated greater faith in Christ Jesus and His Word. 

It’s a faith we should strive to imitate in our own lives. And it’s a faith we can imitate because we have been brought out of the darkness of Christ's tomb through the waters of Holy Baptism. We have been brought to the light of life because He, who is the light, abides with us. 

This is what the seventh stanza of Savior of the Nations, Come, confesses so brilliantly!

From the manger newborn light
Shines in glory through the night.
Darkness there no more resides;
In this light faith now abides.

 As we remember Ambrose, let us give thanks for how this faith continued to abide with him throughout his teaching, preaching, and bold confession. But let us also pray for the light of faith to be present among us as we journey through a world that continues to dwell in darkness so that we may sing God's praises both now and through eternity. +INJ+

[1] Weinrich, W. C. (2015). John 1:1–7:1. (D. O. Wenthe & C. P. Giese, Eds.) (pp. 382–383). Saint Louis, MO: Concordia Publishing House.

[2] Weinrich, W. C. (2015). John 1:1–7:1. (D. O. Wenthe & C. P. Giese, Eds.) (p. 356). Saint Louis, MO: Concordia Publishing House.