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CHAPTER TWO

Pragmatic Authority

The average bishop of a large city in the later Roman Empire fulfilled a number of different roles: he was a preacher to his community; a teacher to the catechumens; administered baptism to neophytes; celebrated the eucharist and other liturgical occasions; and admonished and, if necessary, reprimanded Christians who had stumbled. He was responsible for the charitable works of his congregation, the care of consecrated virgins, widows and orphans, prisoners, travelers, and the poor. In addition, he was in charge of the discipline and proper discharge of office of the clergy under his authority, the priests, deacons, and perhaps chorepiskopoi, and—if he was metropolitan or patriarch—of the other bishops within his region. Once Christianity had gained a stronger foothold in society, beginning in the fourth century, bishops also gradually became involved on a hitherto unknown scale in the administration of their cities and in regional politics. As a consequence of the process of Christianization set in motion by Constantine, bishops would eventually enjoy unrivalled power in their cities in the European Middle Ages.

It is all too easy to neglect the slow historical evolution of the episcopate and to project modern notions of the episcopal office onto the formative period of late antiquity, when definitions of the episcopate were just beginning to be formulated. The danger of such historical anachronism lies in treating the office of a bishop as if it consisted of a predetermined portfolio of tasks and obligations, and in assuming that the episcopal officeholder had to meet an unchanging set of personal requirements. But this was not the case. In this chapter, I wish to draw attention to the fluidity of the definition of the episcopal role in late antiquity by examining the normative texts that were generated within the church to describe and define ecclesiastical leadership. Of particular interest is the way in which these texts set spiritual, ascetic, and pragmatic authority in relation to one another.

In the apostolic age, the episkopos was nothing more than an administrative officer. Beginning in the second century, as he increasingly took on teaching and preaching duties, he was also expected to be inspired by the Holy Spirit. This relation between pragmatic and spiritual authority is explained in the first part of this chapter. For the discharge of his pastoral obligations, the bishop needed to set an example of moral and virtuous conduct to his congregation. The development of this line of thought can be traced in the patristic comments on the passage in the First Letter to Timothy, which gives a catalog of episcopal virtues. This is the subject of the second part of this chapter. Beginning with Ambrose and John Chrysostom, separate treatises devoted to ecclesiastical leadership were composed; these are discussed in the third and last part of this chapter.

THE EARLY CHURCH ORDERS

The episcopal office, as it developed over the first three centuries, was in essence a hybrid creation the original administrative function of which was uncomfortably juxtaposed to the demand for spiritual leadership that was added to it by the second century.¹ These two components of the office could be held together only by adding a third: personal virtues (or, as I call it, ascetic authority).

The bishop’s original administrative function is encapsulated in the history of the Greek word episkopos, whose Latinized adaptation episcopus is the root of the English word bishop. Derived from the Greek verb meaning “to oversee” (episkopein), the episkopos is literally an “overseer.” The word episkopos thus originally refers to an activity or a function that could be performed in various situations and by various people. It could then also denote the person who fulfilled this function on a regular basis within a group, and in this way became a title.² The Christians were not the first to employ this designation. In classical antiquity, the highest officers of corporations, including collegia of pagan priests, were also called episkopoi.³ The oscillation between the function and the title of episkopos could still give occasion for amusing puns in the early fifth century. A pious monk, who was also the cook for his monastery, was once told that he would one day become episkopos, that is, hold the office of a bishop. He rejected this prospect, cheerily announcing that he was already an episkopos: he held the function of overseer, over the pots and pans in his kitchen.⁴

It is striking that the word episkopos and its cognates appear only rarely in the New Testament. It is entirely absent from the Gospels, surfaces in Acts only as a quotation from a psalm,⁵ and appears in the letters of the apostle Paul for a total of seven times. Paul met with the elders (presbyteroi) of the community of Ephesus and admonished them to fulfill their responsibility with zeal and watchfulness: “Keep watch over yourselves and over all the flock, of which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers (episkopous), to shepherd the church of God that he obtained with the blood of his own Son” (Acts 20:28). The same image of the shepherd who, as an episkopos, watches over those entrusted to him is evoked in the First Letter of Peter (1 Pet. 2:25), but this time with reference to Christ, who has gathered the lost souls into his flock. Paul’s Letter to the Philippians begins with his greetings to the Christian community, including the episkopoi and deacons (Phil. 1:1).

In the most significant passage, to which I will return below, Paul advised his disciple and close associate Timothy on how to regulate the internal structure of the Christian communities (1 Tim. 3:1–7). Paul’s lengthy exposition of the qualifications to be expected from an episkopos is followed by similar instructions regarding deacons. These words of Paul would become the yardstick of all subsequent pronouncements on the personal qualifications of bishops. Paul repeated several of these injunctions in his Letter to Titus, who was in the process of setting in order the affairs of the community in Crete. The context of this passage reveals the absence of any clear distinction between the presbyterate and the episcopate. Paul begins by encouraging the appointment of elders (presbyteroi) in every town and then recapitulates his list of moral qualifications by referring to the same men as episkopoi (Titus 1:5–9, esp. verse 7).

These Pauline passages show that the earliest Christian communities were led by a group of elders or, in Greek, presbyteroi. In some, but not all, communities, the group of elders was headed by episkopoi. Their tasks were of an administrative nature: keeping an eye on the incoming gifts of food or money brought by the wealthier members of the community and watching over their distribution to the needy, especially the widows who depended on this kind of support. These early passages refer to episkopoi in the plural, indicating that more than one man was entrusted with these tasks. Diakonoi, or deacons, are frequently mentioned in the same context as their assistants.

It is paramount to bear in mind that throughout the period that conrefers us here, the distinction between the priesthood and the episcopate remains blurry.⁶ The Greek term hierosyne or the Latin sacerdotium simply to higher ecclesiastical office, no matter whether it was held by a priest or by a bishop. This poses some problems in the interpretation of sources. Even after the monepiscopate is firmly established, the haze of indistinction between the episcopate and the presbyterate will remain well into the fourth century. Every episkopos is also a presbyter, but not every presbyter is an episkopos. As late as the fourth century, Pseudo-Augustine declares that the bishop is essentially, a priest, but that among the priests he holds the highest position:

For what is the bishop, if not the first presbyter, that is, the highest priest? Indeed, he calls them nothing else but fellow presbyters and fellow priests. And does the bishop ever call the ministers his fellow deacons? Not so, for they are inferior by far, and it is foolish to call the judge a secretary.⁷

The oldest surviving church order, the Didache, was probably compiled in Syria or Palestine at the beginning of the second century, but the individual regulations it contains may well reflect earlier stages in the development of the life of the church. The Didache encourages the Christian communities to appoint for themselves episkopoi and deacons. They are to be held in the same honor as the prophets and teachers who are visiting and sometimes taking up residence in the communities.⁸ With its omission of presbyters, the Didache reflects a time before the development of the tripartite hierarchy of deaconspresbyters-bishop. In mentioning deacons in the same breath as episkopoi, the Didache also draws attention to the administrative function that both fulfilled. The spiritual and pastoral care of the congregations, by contrast, fell to the prophets and teachers.⁹

The earliest evidence for the existence of only one episkopos for each community comes from the letters of Ignatius of Antioch. On his way to be martyred in Rome during the reign of the emperor Trajan (98–117), Ignatius wrote seven letters that offer insight into the life and organization of the Christian communities at this time. Ignatius was the third bishop of Antioch, which was the foremost city in Syria and had a long and venerable Christian tradition reaching back to the days of the apostles Barnabas and Paul. This position, enhanced by the special grace that he held as a martyrto-be, gave him the authority to address the communities of Asia Minor—Ephesus, Magnesia, Tralles, Philadelphia, and Smyrna—with words of encouragement and advice. Ignatius regarded the monarchic episcopate simultaneously as a reflection of the One God and as a guarantor of the doctrinal unity of the church. Harmony and cohesion within each community can be accomplished, he said, only if the congregation is united under the authority of the deacons, the presbyters, and the bishop.¹⁰ Nothing should be done without the bishop.¹¹ The bishop is the sacral center of his congregation because of his liturgical functions. His presence ensures the validity of the celebration of the eucharist and of baptism.¹² He represents the One God to his congregation, and hence he is owed the same obedience.¹³ In comparison to the Didache, Ignatius’s Letters reflect a new stage in the development of church organization. The ecclesiastical hierarchy now includes priests, and it is one episkopos who presides over the priests and deacons below him. From now on, it is appropriate to abandon the word episkopos, and to employ the word bishop with its connotation of the monepiscopate at the head of a structured ecclesiastical hierarchy.

Ignatius makes a bishop’s effective pastoral care dependent on his personal conduct. He should be constant in his prayer, asking especially for the gift of understanding.¹⁴ He must oppose heterodox teaching¹⁵ and win over the unruly elements in the congregation through his gentleness.¹⁶ In fact, the most distinguishing virtue of a bishop should be his meekness. He should constantly exercise his care for his congregation, he should look after the widows,¹⁷ and he should admonish the slaves¹⁸ and the married men and women to be content with their station in life.¹⁹ The bishop’s ability to serve as a model to his congregation was of great importance to Ignatius. In order to emphasize this point, he adopted the Greek neologism exemplarion, derived from the Latin exemplum or exemplarium. The Latin word was most commonly used in the context of book production, where it referred to the original from which a manuscript was copied. The word is very rare in Greek. It is attested in a papyrus from Oxyrhynchus, where it refers to a model pattern in textile production,²⁰ and in a number of very peculiar pagan inscriptions from Phrygia, of the second and third centuries A.D., where it has the sense of negative example or deterrent. These inscriptions were set up by individuals who had been punished for offending the deity by blindness, paralysis, or in other concrete ways but were given the opportunity to redeem themselves through sacrifices and offerings. These inscriptions are now known as confession inscriptions. Their declared purpose was to warn others so that they might learn from the painful experience of their authors.²¹ The word exemplarion also appears in a spurious sermon of John Chrysostom.²² The only later author to use it is the seventh-century theologian Maximus Confessor, who refers to Christ as exemplarion and elsewhere talks about men who make their own life an exemplarion of virtue.²³ Even though Ignatius’s use of the word exemplarion did not catch on among Greek authors after him, his insistence that the bishop be of such character that his conduct invite imitation by others would continue to be a major theme in Christian writing about the episcopate.

Ignatius also notes that the bishops’ ministry is bestowed on him in the love of God, not because others wanted to appoint him or because he sought this distinction for himself.²⁴ For this reason, the selection of a bishop should not depend on external criteria such as seniority. Ignatius has high praise for Damas, for example, who had become bishop of Magnesia despite his youthful age.²⁵ In this way, episcopal appointment is regarded as a gift from God that may sometimes be granted to unlikely candidates. Ignatius was the first to give voice to two ideas that would become the prevalent view in the centuries that followed: (1) the bishop’s tasks are not only administrative, but also pastoral and liturgical; (2) in order to maintain the respect and cooperation of his flock, the bishop must be an exemplar of Christian conduct.

It was not until a century after Ignatius that the process of episcopal appointment was described for the first time, in the Apostolic Tradition. This work is commonly ascribed to Hippolytus, the bishop of a schismatic community in Rome who died in exile, probably in 236. The Apostolic Tradition, which has to be pieced together from quotations in other works, is the earliest document for the liturgical practices in Rome. It declares that the bishop is elected by all the people and then consecrated in the presence of the laity, the presbyterate, and an unspecified number of other bishops, who all offer him the kiss of peace after the ordination. The involvement of these different groups of people affirms that the appointment of the bishop is based on a consensus of all. The actual ordination occurs through the imposition of hands by one or several bishops. The prayer accompanying this gesture contains, in a nutshell, an interpretation of the spiritual and practical aspects of the episcopal office. It calls down upon the new bishop the Holy Ghost whom God has delivered to Christ, who in turn passed it on to the apostles, thus asserting the continuity of the ecclesiastical tradition. In his new role as pastor of his flock and as archpriest, the bishop must minister to his community, and he must represent them to God through his prayers. He holds the same authority as the apostles to forgive sins. And he ought to lead a life pleasing to God, excelling in meekness and purity of heart. After the ordination, the new bishop receives the kiss of peace from all who are present and then celebrates the eucharist.²⁶

In paying close attention to the process of ordination, the Apostolic Tradition gives voice to an idea that will become a powerful undercurrent to all later reflections on the episcopate: the bishop is a successor of the apostles and partakes of the same Spirit as they had. It is the apostolic succession of the bishop that bestows on him the Holy Spirit. As a consequence, spiritual authority can reside not just in the person of the bishop, but also in the episcopal office per se. According to the Apostolic Tradition, the Spirit is conferred on the bishop-elect by other bishops through the imposition of hands and the prayer of ordination. The apostolic succession is an external source of the Holy Spirit that is attached to the episcopal office. The institutional spiritual authority inherent in the episcopate is distinct from the personal spiritual authority held by the bishop and displayed in his conduct. Ideally, the former is bestowed as a confirmation of the latter. The relation of personal spiritual authority to spiritual authority acquired ex officio would remain a major concern, especially as the bishops grew in number and gained greater importance in civic life.

The Didascalia, a detailed church order that was composed in northern Syria, also dates from the first half of the third century. It was originally written in Greek but now survives only in a complete Syriac translation and in Latin fragments. The Didascalia purports to contain the teaching of the twelve apostles on the organization of Christian churches. It furnishes ample information on the preconditions for appointment to episcopal office, the duties of a bishop, and the personal traits required of a bishop to fulfill his role.²⁷ The Didascalia reflects a new stage in the structural development of the Christian communities, competently mapped out in a recent book by Georg Schöllgen.²⁸ By the time of the Didascalia, what had started as voluntary and spontaneous donations by the congregation to the communal chest had evolved into regular and fixed contributions, which were used in part to provide the clergy with salaries according to their rank. This development had several important consequences: it set the clergy apart from the laity, it transformed the members of the clergy from volunteering servants into salaried officials, and it created the economic conditions for treating ecclesiastical ministry as a career like any other. It is perhaps for this reason that the Didascalia takes great care to remind the lay members of the congregation of the spiritual and ascetic authority of the bishop, from which all other positive aspects of his administration will flow.

In appointing a bishop, the Didascalia notes, it is important to choose a candidate who enjoys a good reputation and who has no physical handicaps. The minimum age requirement is set at fifty years, although more important than the criterion of age is the candidate’s moral qualification. His character must correspond to the description given in Paul’s First Letter to Timothy, and special emphasis is placed on his ability to maintain his own household in order. Even if he is illiterate, he ought to be able to give religious instruction to his flock. The constitutive act that turns the candidate who has the support and consensus of all into a bishop is the imposition of hands, presumably in a manner comparable to that described in the Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus.²⁹

The desirable traits of character of a bishop are set out in the Didascalia in conjunction with his tasks and duties. The bishop should prepare for his task as interpreter of scripture through constant reading.³⁰ As the administrator of ecclesiastical charity to widows and orphans, to the poor and to strangers, the bishop should be charitable and generous. He should also be able to use his own good judgment in determining each individual’s needs, so as to avoid favoritism and jealousy.³¹

The most prominent role ascribed to the bishop in the Didascalia, next to the administration of charity, is his authority to impose penance by excluding unworthy members from the community until their sincere repentance has made them worthy of readmission. The act of readmission consists in the imposition of hands by the bishop while the whole congregation prays over the penitent.³² In order to fulfill this responsibility of administering the different degrees of penance, the bishop must be immune to bribery, impartial in his judgment even of rich or influential people,³³ and merciful and compassionate toward the sincerely penitent.³⁴ Ideally, though, the bishop should exercise constant admonition and care for his flock so that they will abstain from sin and he will have to exercise his penitential authority only in exceptional circumstances.³⁵ He can be effective in his admonition only if he himself leads an impeccable life. He should be restrained in his diet and shun all other luxuries as well.³⁶ He should, in sum, be the embodiment of all virtues: “And whatever of good there be that is found in men, let the same be in the bishop.”³⁷ He should model himself after Christ and through his own example invite his congregation to imitate him.³⁸ Such impeccable conduct of the bishop brings many benefits: his admonition will be convincing, and his judgment will be accepted by all; moreover, the congregation will have no excuse for slackening in their own lives.³⁹ In short, the Didascalia regards the exemplary conduct of the bishop as indispensable for all the duties with which his office is charged: the distribution of charity, the admonition of sinners, and preaching.

The Didascalia sees the relation between the bishop and his congregation as reciprocal. The bishop’s paternal love is like that of a bird who “keeps them warm with loving care, as eggs from which young birds are to come; or broods over them and cherishes them as young birds, for the rearing up of winged fowl.”⁴⁰ In turn, it is the duty of the congregation to honor the bishop with the same respect that is due to a father.⁴¹ The congregation is explicitly instructed about the role of their bishop:

He is minister of the word and mediator; but to you a teacher, and your father after God, who begot you through the water [of baptism]. This is your chief and your leader, and he is your mighty king. He rules in the place of the Almighty: but let him be honoured by you as God, for the bishop sits for you in the place of God Almighty.⁴²

The Didascalia is the earliest church order to address the penitential authority of the bishop. The bishop not only represents Christ to his community; he also personally represents his community, including their sins, before God. Since he received his office from God, he is also personally accountable to God for their moral and spiritual welfare:⁴³ “For a layman has the care of himself alone, but thou carriest the burden of all.”⁴⁴ In this regard too the bishop should imitate Christ and bear the sins of the people entrusted to him.⁴⁵ The Didascalia is insistent on the nexus between the bishop’s personal conduct and his authority to bind and loose: “As therefore thou hast authority to loose, know thyself and thy manners and thy conversation in this life, that they be worthy of thy place.”⁴⁶ With its inclusion of the power to bind and loose and of the ability to bear the burdens of others among the bishop’s prerogatives, the Didascalia points to a connection between penitential authority and personal holiness that will concern us again later.

The last and most comprehensive church order is the Apostolic Constitutions. By the time this work was composed in the region of Antioch, around the year 380, the Christian church had enjoyed almost seven decades of peace and prosperity since the reign of Constantine. Within a few years, its triumph would be complete through the anti-pagan legislation of the emperor Theodosius. The Apostolic Constitutions is a compilation that draws heavily on earlier church orders. It may therefore be considered a repository of information that was considered of value at the time, rather than an accurate reflection of the internal conditions in late fourth-century communities in Syria. The passages in book 2 on the character and duties of a bishop derive from the Didascalia, and those on the election and appointment of bishops in book 8, chapters 4–5, are adapted from the Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus; therefore neither need concern us any further.

1 TIMOTHY 3 AND ITS INTERPRETATIONS

The only passage in the New Testament that treats the episcopal ministry in any detail is found in Paul’s First Letter to Timothy (1 Tim. 3:1–7). Although modern scholars have called Paul’s authorship of this epistle into question, it is generally agreed to be a work of the first century or of the first decade of the second century. The patristic authors who later referred to it certainly took for granted that it was genuine. The passage follows:

The saying is sure: whoever aspires to the office of bishop (episkopen) desires a noble task. Now a bishop must be above reproach, married only once, temperate, sensible, respectable, hospitable, an apt teacher, not a drunkard, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, and not a lover of money. He must manage his own household well, keeping his children submissive and respectful in every way—for if someone does not know how to manage his own household, how can he take care of God’s church? He must not be a recent convert, or he may be puffed up with conceit and fall into the condemnation of the devil. Moreover, he must be well thought of by outsiders, so that he may not fall into disgrace and the snare of the devil.

This passage provides the baseline for all later reflection on the nature and character of the ideal bishop. In order to gain a closer understanding of the interpretation of these sentences in the patristic literature, I have traced the quotations of these verses by later authors.⁴⁷ After an overview of the use of citations from 1 Timothy 3:1–7 among the church fathers, I turn to the exegetical homilies that make this epistle their subject.

Late antique reflection on the ideal bishop developed in step with the historical development of the episcopate. In the first centuries, while there were several episkopoi whose duties were largely administrative, all that was expected of them was that they be respected and upright members of the community. Beginning in the fourth century, the enhanced visibility of the representatives of the church and the increased array of their responsibilities in a largely pagan world were not without consequence: on the one hand, they triggered new reflections on the relative worth of the public activities of the bishop versus the private pursuit of asceticism, and on the other, they made it more imperative than ever that the bishop lead an exemplary life. If that was the case, it was anticipated that his congregation would readily accept his teaching, while the pagans would recognize in him a worthy paragon of the new religion.

Quotations from 1 Timothy 3 in the Church Orders and in Patristic Works

The pattern of citations from 1 Timothy 3:1–7 is surprisingly uneven. Paul’s advice is reiterated in the early church orders in the context of the identification of a suitable candidate for the episcopal ministry, his election, and his ordination. The Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus contains only the briefest allusion to 1 Timothy 3, when it demands that the bishop be “without reproach.”⁴⁸ The most extensive treatment of the selection of a bishop, his qualities, and his duties is found at various points in the Didascalia, which makes ample use of 1 Timothy 3, augmented by other quotations from scripture. Beyond the usual advice to adhere to a virtuous lifestyle that holds up to all scrutiny, this work is particularly concerned with the financial and judicial aspects of the episcopal office. To discharge these duties properly, the Didascalia notes, the bishop must be impartial, immune to bribery, and capable of discernment.⁴⁹

The use of citations from the First Letter to Timothy outside the church orders undergoes a significant change after the third century. Authors of the earlier period tend to treat individually each of the positive characteristics that, according to the epistle, recommend a man for the office of episkopos. Snippets of this passage are usually taken out of context, broken up into smaller segments, and reapplied wherever the author sees fit. This is in contrast to later authors, beginning in the late third century, who usually regard 1 Timothy 3:1–7 and the sequence of virtues it contains as an established and immutable list that has to be quoted in its entirety. Moreover, when the earlier writers extract smaller quotations from the original context, they do so to bring home the point that these character traits are expected not just of the episkopos but of every member of the congregation. Later authors continue to postulate the general applicability of these virtues, but they now also relate them specifically to bishops. Over time, the expectations of virtuous conduct of all Christians thus become focused on the person of the bishop as a model of Christian virtues.

In the earlier period, 1 Timothy 3:1–7 is rarely cited anywhere, except the church orders. The tendency at this time to take shorter segments out of context and to apply them in a general sense can be seen in Tertullian’s use of Paul’s demand that the bishop be married only once. Tertullian repeated this injunction of single marriage in his Exhortation to Chastity ⁵⁰ and On Monogamy.⁵¹ In both instances, he explains that the apostle’s advocacy of a single marriage for the priesthood was intended to apply to all the faithful, since all Christians partake of the royal priesthood. Similarly, Tertullian in his On the Soul cites Paul’s introductory phrase “whoever aspires to the office of bishop (episkopen) desires a noble task,” but he does so in a general discussion of concupiscence or desire.⁵² Tertullian’s Eastern contemporary, Clement of Alexandria, made equally generalized use of Paul’s recommendation that the bishop not be avaricious or litigious. In his On Virginity, he included these words in a general exhortation to virtuous living.⁵³ These authors understand Paul’s words as applying to all Christians, regardless of their rank and status within the community. The episkopos is not singled out, neither because of his exceptional virtues nor by his function nor through his ordination.

Origen, in the late third century, oscillates between the generalizing application of Paul’s passage that had been typical of the earlier period and the assumption that certain men, because they possess the virtues catalogued by Paul, are identified as episkopoi before God. Origen addresses this issue in two passages in his Commentary on Matthew. In the first passage, he explains that those who conform to the virtues set out by Paul for bishops rightfully exercise the power to bind and loose.⁵⁴ In other words, the possession of virtues precedes and indeed is the precondition for the exercise of penitential authority that is largely the prerogative of bishops. In the second passage, Origen says that Jewish rabbis receive recognition in the eyes of the people because of the external markers of their position, such as the most prominent seat at banquets or in the synagogue. Bishops, by contrast, are recognized in the eyes of God because of their virtues: “For he who has in him the virtues that Paul lists about the bishop, even if he is not a bishop among men, is a bishop before God, even if the [episcopal] rank has not been bestowed on him through the ordination by men.”⁵⁵ To illustrate his point, Origen invokes the example of the physician and the pilot of a ship. These men retain their skill and ability, even if they lack the opportunity to exercise them. The physician remains a physician even if he has no patients, and the pilot remains a pilot even if he has no ship to navigate. Taken to its logical conclusion, Origen’s reasoning allows that there may be many more “bishops before God” than there are bishops among men. Moreover, it opens the door to the possibility that men who do not qualify as “bishops before God” are nonetheless ordained to the episcopate. This is in tune with Origen’s general tendency to expose the worldliness of the church as an institution. Criticism of this nature would become even more pronounced in the post-Constantinian era.

Origen also seems to be the first author to apply Paul’s catalog of virtues to bishops specifically, although not exclusively. Paul’s advice that the episkopos should enjoy a good reputation, for example, is reiterated by Origen in order to drive home the point that the bishop should be recognized by all as outstanding in every way and that he should thus be a worthy representative of the whole community.⁵⁶ In his Commentary on the Letter to the Romans, Origen explains that the different ministries of the church must observe the scriptural precepts that apply to them. The bishop will fulfill his ministry, Origen says, by practicing the virtues listed in 1 Timothy 3.⁵⁷ Origen puts forward a similar view in his Commentary on Matthew where he castigates those who seek the episcopate out of pride and vainglory. Their negative motivation will render them unable to practice the virtues expected of a bishop according to Paul.⁵⁸ Origen thus seems to regard the possession of virtues listed in Paul’s passage as a touchstone for identifying those who are bishops in the eyes of God.

The Christian literature of the late fourth century and beyond shows a renewed interest in the episcopate. The expansion of the church and Christianity’s new status as religio licita brought with them a more acute awareness of the public image of representatives of the church. Many more authors now demand, as Ignatius had already done two centuries previously, that the bishop be a worthy spokesman of Christianity, and that he act as an exemplar for his communities. These authors support their claims by reference to Paul’s famous passage.⁵⁹

In his treatise On the Priesthood, which will be discussed in more detail below, John Chrysostom refers to our Pauline passage only twice, first to point out that the bishop should be held in good repute by others, and second to discuss the desire for office.⁶⁰ Ambrose, himself a prominent bishop in the imperial capital of Milan, insists that priests and bishops should stand out in the community because of their virtuous conduct. In his Letters, he highlights the importance of hospitality and of the single marriage of the higher clergy. The former, he says, is significant because Paul specifically demanded it of bishops,⁶¹ the latter because it lends credence to the bishops’ exhortations to widows to avoid remarriage.⁶²

Basil of Caesarea turns to to 1 Timothy 3 in his efforts to maintain a high quality of clergy. He was troubled by the doings of the chorepiskopoi under his jurisdiction, the rampant practice of simony, and the appointment of unworthy candidates. In a stern letter of admonition, he reminds the country bishops that “according to the ancient custom observed in the Churches of God” a detailed examination of the life and conduct used to be undertaken, following the criteria listed in 1 Timothy 3. Basil insists that this kind of scrutiny be applied to all candidates for the clergy, which in this context means priests and deacons.⁶³

Bishops and other clergy, however, were not the only Christian leaders to whom the words of 1 Timothy 3: 1–7 were thought to apply. The same moral qualifications and exemplary conduct were also expected from heads of monastic communities. One of Basil’s Ascetical Discourses stresses that “the one chosen as guide in this state of life [i.e., the monastic community] be such that his life may serve as a model of every virtue to those who look to him, and, as the Apostle says, that he be ‘sober, prudent, of good behaviour, a teacher.’” Basil adds that a potential future abbot should be examined with regard to his spiritual and moral maturity, to make sure that “everything said and done by him may represent a law and a standard for the community.” ⁶⁴ This is elaborated further in a passage in Basil’s Long Rules that also establishes a direct nexus between personal conduct and authority within a Christian community, again turning to short pieces of Paul’s injunctions.⁶⁵ Basil’s repeated use of the catalog of virtues from 1 Timothy 3 shows that Paul’s advice was in a more general sense considered to apply to anyone who held a position of leadership among Christians, whether abbot or bishop.

Commentaries on the Pauline Epistles

Paul’s recommendations in his First Letter to Timothy regarding the episkopoi were, as we have just seen, mined by late antique authors for short snippets or for whole sentences to quote. A more comprehensive treatment might be expected from patristic commentaries on the epistle as a whole, but those are few in number. Jerome’s series of commentaries on the Pauline epistles includes one on the Letter to Titus, but not on the First Letter to Timothy. However, his remarks on the passage in Titus 1:5–9 that deals with the moral character of priests draw heavily on the relevant verses of 1 Timothy 3. The catalog of episcopal virtues in both these epistles is eagerly repeated by Jerome, who seizes this opportunity to make pointed jabs against unworthy clergy who indulge in gluttony and excessive drinking, who are given to filthy lucre, who show favoritism in their appointments to the priesthood, and who do not manage to keep their own household in order. The ideal, Jerome insists, is the bishop who embodies all the virtues. The reasoning he gives for the importance of episcopal virtues is not so much, as in the other authors we have encountered, the preaching and teaching authority of the bishop, but rather his penitential and judicial authority, where personal detachment and impartiality are paramount.

Jerome revisits the issue of ascetic virtues among the clergy in his spirited response to Jovinian. Against the latter’s suggestion that the clergy need not excel in their conduct and that chastity is not required of them, Jerome upholds a strict ascetic ideal. He does so by quoting the entire passage of 1 Timothy 3:1–7, implying that it is addressed specifically to bishops who ought to take Paul’s admonition as an incentive to improve themselves: “By being placed in the higher order an opportunity is afforded him [the bishop], if he chose to avail himself of it, for the practice of virtue.”⁶⁶ Jerome is keenly aware that the ascetic authority of the virtuous man and the pragmatic authority of the ecclesiastical officeholder are two distinct qualities. Only those men whose virtues correspond to their rank in the clergy deserve praise and admiration: “You see then that the blessedness of a bishop, priest or deacon, does not lie in the fact that they are bishops, priests, or deacons, but in their having the virtues which their names and offices imply.”⁶⁷ Jerome here proves to be an adherent of the idea, first given voice by Clement and Origen, of the “true” bishop in contradistinction to the bishop by ordination. He sums this up elsewhere in the terse statement “Not all bishops are bishops.”⁶⁸

Jerome’s older contemporary John Chrysostom includes among his exegetical sermons one on 1 Timothy 3. This sermon is remarkable because it combines two unconnected and potentially conflicting strands of thought that we have already identified, without visible concern about inherent contradiction. One the one hand, John Chrysostom emphasizes the need for the bishop, because of his exalted and exposed position, to be a model and an inspiration not only to the Christian community, but also to the pagans, in the hope that this will bring them to conversion. On the other hand, he notes that the virtues required by Paul of bishops, such as hospitality or moderation in wine consumption, are neither particularly demanding nor particularly scarce among Christians. He tackles the issue head-on:

Why said he not that he should be an angel, not subject to human passions? Where are those great qualities of which Christ speaks, which even those under their rule ought to possess? To be crucified to the world, to be always ready to lay down their lives . . . Why are not these things required by Paul? Plainly because few could be found of such character, and there was need for many bishops, that one might preside in every city. But because the churches were to be exposed to attacks, he requires not that superior and highly exalted virtue, but a moderate degree of it; for to be sober, of good behavior, and temperate, were qualities common to many.⁶⁹

John here couches his acknowledgment of the general applicability of these virtues in the context of the historical narrative of the spread and expansion of the Christian church, a story in which bishops played an instrumental role. He also notes that the episcopate is not an honor, but a function, with reference to the etymology of episkopein, “to be an overseer.” ⁷⁰ This concession to the realities of ecclesiastical leadership is offset by John’s other writings, most notably his On the Priesthood, discussed below, where he sketches a more lofty picture of the ideal bishop as a high priest.

A very similar approach was taken by Theodore of Mopsuestia, John Chrysostom’s friend from the time they spent together in Libanius’s classroom and later in a monastery near Antioch. His theological position on the two natures of Christ came under scrutiny during the Three Chapters controversy, with the result that his works were banned as heretical in 553. Like John Chrysostom, Theodore also wrote a treatise titled On the Priesthood, but the text does not survive. However, his exegetical commentary on the Pauline epistles, which includes a treatment of the First Letter to Timothy, invites a comparison of the views of these two friends. Theodore concedes, just like John, that the historical origin of the episcopate lies in a range of practical administrative tasks, as indicated in the leading sentence of Paul’s remarks (1 Tim. 3:1): “Whoever aspires to the office of bishop desires a noble task.” Theodore’s commentary on this passage survives only in Latin, where the Greek ergon (translated in the NRSV as “task”) is rendered with its exact Latin equivalent opus: “He does well to call it ‘work’ and not honor, for the discharge of ecclesiastical duties is not an honor, but work.”⁷¹ Theodore also agrees with John Chrysostom that the virtues required by Paul of an episkopos are not very demanding. John had explained this with reference to historical exigency that created the need for a large number of bishops of whom, it is implied, one ought not to expect too much. Theodore, by contrast, demands that the bishop should strive to match his elevated status within the church by intensifying his efforts to adhere to the code of conduct laid down by Paul.

The only extant detailed discussion in Latin of the First Letter to Timothy was composed as part of a series of commentaries on the Pauline epistles by Ambrosiaster, the elusive fourth-century author who passed himself off as Ambrose. He is mainly concerned with the selection of a suitable candidate and the moral conduct of the bishop. Ambrosiaster is aware that some seek the episcopal office out of ambition or greed, and that recent converts are prone to pride and boastfulness if they are appointed to the episcopate too soon. Such pitfalls can be avoided, Ambrosiaster recommends, if the potential bishop possesses the moral characteristics outlined by Paul, “for they are the markers of the episcopal dignity.” Only if he practices what he preaches will the bishop avoid the devil’s snare, and only then will his teaching be accepted as true.⁷² Like Ambrose and his other contemporaries, Ambrosiaster seems well acquainted with the phenomenon of unworthy bishops, the dissolution they can generate within their communities, and the discredit they can bring upon the Christian church. Another fourth-century author, Pseudo-Augustine, interprets the Christian ministry in much the same vein. The value of the Christian church is measured by the morality of its representatives, just as the silliness of the traditional religion is exposed by the heinous practices of the pagan priests.⁷³

The tendency of fourth-century authors to regard Paul’s First Letter to Timothy as a catalog of specifically episcopal virtues is evident also in the more personal remarks of church fathers who were themselves bishops. At times, they hold up these criteria to praise their colleagues in office. Gregory of Nazianzus bestows high praise on Athanasius of Alexandria as a staunch adherent of Nicene orthodoxy and in this context finds it expedient to depict him as the perfect bishop whose life is in complete conformity with Paul’s precepts.⁷⁴ At other times, these men of the church express their own fear of falling short of this yardstick. Gregory of Nazianzus explains that he absconded immediately after his father, Gregory the Elder, had ordained him to the priesthood, in part because he was afraid of his inability to meet the demands of his office. He finds it impossible for anyone to conform to the demands set out by Paul in his First Letter to Timothy, let alone those made by Christ.⁷⁵ Basil pours his heart out in a letter to a “pious man,” in which he communicates his worry of failing to perform the duties imposed on him as a bishop. This is a heartfelt plea, not mere rhetoric or fishing for compliments. Basil beseeches his friend to pray for him so that he may be able to continue to lead a “chaste,” that is, God-fearing, life and that he may discharge his office in a manner that pleases God.⁷⁶

Common to all these texts of the post-Constantinian era is the strong nexus they establish between the personal virtues of a bishop, the acceptance by others—including pagans—of his position of leadership, and the effectiveness of his pastoral care. These authors are finely attuned to the dialectical nature of leadership. The congregation, they point out, will accept a bishop’s guidance in spiritual and moral issues only if he shows himself to be of outstanding moral integrity. A bishop must practice what he preaches. Jerome puts this succinctly in his Commentary on the Epistle to Titus: “The future leader of the church should possess eloquence that is intimately linked with integrity of conduct, so that his actions are not silenced by his preaching, or his words are an embarrassment because his deeds are deficient.”⁷⁷ This is what I call the dialectic of episcopal leadership, meaning that the bishop has to earn the recognition of his authority through his exemplary conduct. At the same time, it was the bishop’s possession of these virtues that first singled him out and recommended him for office. His role as bishop required that he act as a model who instilled in his community the desire to emulate and imitate him. In this regard, the ideal bishop of the fourth century fulfills a role comparable to that of the holy man.

TREATISES ON ECCLESIASTICAL LEADERSHIP

So far we have examined scattered references in a variety of texts—church orders, biblical commentaries, letters—to assemble a spectrum of approaches to the episcopal role in late antiquity. These references allow only a glimpse of each author’s approach, but their quantity and their distribution over time lends them significance as indicators of general attitudes and their development through the centuries.

In addition, there is a sizeable number of treatises devoted specifically to the nature of ecclesiastical leadership, to which I now turn. None of them were composed before the fourth century—a further indication that the newly gained public prominence of the Christian religion challenged the men of the church to give shape and definition to their position in an increasingly Christian society. Among modern scholars, these works are often referred to as treatises on pastoral care, which makes them sound like practical manuals for spiritual shepherds on how to tend their flock. In reality, they are much more than that. The works discussed below all address the nature of spiritual leadership, the conflict between the active and the contemplative life, and the personal qualifications of the Christian minister. It is this last aspect in particular that is of interest here.

The chronological range of these treatises extends from the late fourth to the late sixth century, beginning with Gregory of Nazianzus’s In Defense of His Flight and ending with Gregory the Great’s Pastoral Care. The earlier texts in particular employ a very vague terminology with regard to the ecclesiastical ministry. It is by no means clear whether they speak of priests or bishops when they use the Latin sacerdos or the Greek hiereus. This distinction is a modern concern that imposes itself from hindsight.⁷⁸ The authors well into the fifth century were content with the fact that they were discussing clergy who had been ordained through the imposition of hands, who could claim to be the successors of the apostles, and whose tasks revolved around preaching, the celebration of the eucharist, and ecclesiastical administration, especially of charity.

Gregory of Nazianzus gave voice to his views of the priesthood at a highly charged moment in his life. His father, Gregory the Elder, had ordained him to the priesthood at Christmas 361, thereby designating his son as his successor. This, Gregory claims not very convincingly, took him by surprise, and in his initial panic he hastened to return to the tranquility of the monastic retreat of his friend Basil in Pontus. But by Easter of the following year, he was back in Nazianzus. His Second Oration, entitled In Defense of His Flight, purports to be a sermon he delivered before the congregation in order to explain himself.⁷⁹ The length and literary craftsmanship of this work, however, seem to indicate that it was intended for a reading public, at least in its present form. As the first coherent treatment of the nature of the priesthood in literature (as opposed to the church orders, which are rule books), Gregory’s Second Oration would exert great influence on later such works, especially those by John Chrysostom and Gregory the Great. ⁸⁰

Having first rejected, and then accepted the priesthood, Gregory is in a position to argue for the awesome nature of the priestly office and the unattainable requirements made on the person of the priest, on the one hand, and the practical need to fill such appointments with reasonably suitable, if imperfect, candidates, on the other. His practical side comes through when he speaks of the church as one body, where each member must perform the task that is assigned to him, and when he mentions that in every organization there are those who rule and those who are ruled.⁸¹ He admits that he was moved to return also by his personal attachment to his elderly parents, by obedience to his father, and by his desire to reciprocate the affection that the congregation had shown him.⁸² An additional reason that prompted Gregory to accept the priesthood was his desire to do his share to counterbalance the large numbers of unworthy and unprepared clergy who had recently flooded the church to satisfy their ambition or their greed:

They push and thrust around the holy table, as if they thought this order to be a means of livelihood, instead of a pattern of virtue, or an absolute authority, instead of a ministry of which we must give account. . . . For at no time, either now or in former days, amid the rise and fall of various developments, has there ever been such an abundance as now exists among Christians, of disgrace and abuses of this kind.⁸³

As his speech winds down to a close, Gregory does not fail to mention that he has, in fact, been prepared for this moment from his earliest youth. Not only had he grown up in a pious household, but he had also surrendered himself to a life of renunciation and ascetic self-fashioning:

There was moreover the moderation of anger, the curbing of the tongue, the restraint of the eyes, the discipline of the belly, and the trampling under foot of the glory which clings to the earth. I speak foolishly, but it shall be said, in these pursuits I was perhaps not inferior to many.⁸⁴

Weighing all these considerations, Gregory admits that he realized that his initial urge to seek the tranquility and solitude of monastic retreat would have been a selfish undertaking.⁸⁵

Framed by these personal remarks are Gregory’s views on the nature of the priesthood and the character of the ideal priest. He brings up the awesomeness of the priest’s liturgical function in consecrating the eucharist,⁸⁶ a theme that would later be resumed by John Chrysostom and Ambrose, among others. In contrast to later authors on the subject, Gregory does not dwell on the nuisance of the administrative duties of the priesthood. He does, however, go into great detail in comparing the priest to a physician who is responsible for healing and strengthening the souls entrusted to his care.⁸⁷ This requires both the ability for accurate diagnosis as well as the prescription of the right medicine suited to the disposition of the patient. Gregory insists on the importance of the priest’s ability to address each individual according to his or her personal needs, in his admonition and in his preaching. In essence, the qualities that Gregory requires here in the context of the pastoral care of priests are nothing else but the gift of discernment that, as we shall see below, gave a special quality of immediacy to the teaching of the pneumatophoroi and the desert fathers.

Most important in Gregory’s view is that the priest himself be a model of what he preaches:

A man must himself be cleansed, before cleansing others; himself become wise, that he may make others wise; become light, and then give light; draw near to God, and so bring others near; be hallowed, then hallow them; be possessed of hands to lead others by the hand, of wisdom to give advice.⁸⁸

According to Gregory, the effectiveness of a priest’s instruction, and indeed the quality of the priesthood as a whole, depend entirely on the priest’s own striving for personal holiness. This holiness, however, was not guardedly preserved in monastic isolation, but shared in ministry to others.

John Chrysostom probably wrote his treatise On the Priesthood during the years that he was in Antioch, probably in the late 380s.⁸⁹ It must have been something of an instant success, for Jerome records in 392, in his Lives of Illustrious Men, that he has read it.⁹⁰ The premise of the work is John’s defense against any accusations of wrongdoing for his clever manipulation of the ordination of his friend and monastic companion Basil (not identical with the famous bishop of Caesarea), while managing to escape the same fate himself. This gives him occasion to dwell on the enormity of the responsibility of the priestly ministry, and to describe in detail the different functions that a priest must fulfill. The word he uses throughout, hierosynē, refers to the priesthood in general, without distinguishing between the offices of presbyter and bishop.⁹¹

While Gregory of Nazianzus had taken his own experience—initial rejection of office, followed by eventual acceptance—as an opportunity to explain the relative merits of ecclesiastical office versus monastic retreat as exemplified in the internal conflict of one person, John Chrysostom assigns each side in this conflict to a different character. He casts Basil in the role of the former monk who agrees to become a cleric, and himself in the role of the monk who shuns ecclesiastical office.⁹² Considering that the author was at this time a deacon on his way up in the ecclesiastical hierarchy, this rhetorical role-play alone casts serious suspicions on the autobiographical value of the entire treatise. Nonetheless, On the Priesthood is an important statement about the nature of the priesthood. It was appreciated by posterity as a veritable “mirror of bishops.” Isidore of Pelusium, an Egyptian scholar-turned-monk who is known to us mainly through his extensive correspondence, sent a copy of Chrysostom’s treatise to a certain Eustathius in around 440, recommending it for its inspirational nature:

I have sent the book you asked for, and I expect that you will derive profit from it, as everybody usually does. For there is nobody, no single heart that has not been moved to divine love by reading this book. It shows how venerable and difficult to attain the priesthood is, and teaches to exercise it without reproach. For John, the wise announcer of the secrets of God, the eye of the church of Byzantium and of the whole [church], has elaborated it so finely and with such great diligence that all will discover therein their virtues or their reproach, both those who exercise their office in a manner pleasing to God and those who administer it with negligence.⁹³

In order to justify his decision to avoid ordination, John in this work compares his personal failings and shortcomings⁹⁴ with the impeccable and virtuous conduct of his friend Basil, who had demonstrated his love of humankind in a selfless act of intervention for a friend.⁹⁵ It is essential that the bishop possess such qualities for the exercise of his office. John devotes less space than Gregory to the bishop’s pastoral duties, although he, too, invokes the image of the bishop as the physician of souls.⁹⁶ Instead, he approaches the episcopal office from two complementary angles, the spiritual and the administrative.

John pays particular attention to the spiritual power inherent in the bishop’s liturgical functions. He dwells on the bishop’s role in consecrating the eucharist even more than Gregory had done. It is a task that requires complete ritual purity:

For when thou seest the Lord sacrificed, and laid upon the altar, and the priest standing and praying over the victim, and all the worshippers empurpled with that precious blood, canst thou then think that thou art still amongst men, and standing upon the earth? Art thou not, on the contrary, straightaway translated to Heaven? . . . By their agency [i.e., that of the priests] these rites are celebrated, and others nowise inferior to these both in respect of our dignity and our salvation. For they who inhabit the earth and make their abode there are entrusted with the administration of things which are in Heaven, and have received an authority which God has not given to angels or archangels.⁹⁷

This attention to the awesomeness of the transformation of the eucharistic sacrifice into the body and blood of Christ and the participation of the priest in this transformation seems to be a common concern of Greek theologians at the end of the fourth century, especially those in the intellectual orbit of Antioch. As Johannes Quasten has suggested, it was probably formulated in an attempt to counter Arianism by emphasizing the distance between the divine and the human realm.⁹⁸

The other sacral function of the bishop that is of great importance in Chrysostom’s work is his power to bind and loose through the imposition of penance, and the related function of performing baptisms.⁹⁹ Both bring a complete regeneration of the individual in the Spirit; and in both, the bishop acts in the role of a father who gives new life. In order to help sinners, the bishop should also shoulder the burdens of others.¹⁰⁰ He is, in fact, personally responsible before God for any sins in his congregation. John Chrysostom will repeat this thought later in the sermons he delivers in Constantinople.¹⁰¹ He thus ascribes to the bishop ex officio the same role that the pneumatophoros and some of the holy men we will encounter later chose to take upon themselves on behalf of their intimate associates.

John seems to be the earliest theoretician on the episcopate who draws attention to the manifold mundane tasks that are likely to distract the bishop from his spiritual resolve. All too easily the bishop may get drawn into a whirl of emotions that disturb the calm of his soul: “wrath, despondency, envy, strife, slanders, accusations, falsehood, hypocrisy, intrigues, anger,” and the list goes on.¹⁰² He mentions the care of widows and virgins in the community, the bishop’s judicial authority, and the daily round of visits expected of him.¹⁰³ In order to ensure impartiality and immunity to pressure or bribery in all his administrative work, it is important, John notes, that the bishop does not accede to his position through favoritism of any kind, which would later leave him open to pressure or blackmail. He has harsh words to say about the fierce competition that often surrounded episcopal elections in his day.¹⁰⁴ These indignities and distractions that affect the episcopate have to be counteracted by the appointment of worthy candidates who possess the proper preparation in faith, disposition, and virtue. For this reason, On the Priesthood has often been identified as a call for internal improvement and reform.¹⁰⁵

The bulk of the work consists of considerations on the ideal qualities of the priesthood. John insists that the bishop should possess virtues in a perfect balance: “He ought to be dignified yet free from arrogance, formidable yet kind, apt to command yet sociable, impartial yet courteous, humble yet not servile, strong yet gentle.”¹⁰⁶ One further essential qualification for a good bishop is introduced, namely, his rhetorical skill and his familiarity with scripture and theology.¹⁰⁷ John’s insight into the importance of rhetoric, of course, betrays his own schooling in the classroom of Libanius of Antioch. But the urgency of his concern for the bishop’s teaching and preaching springs from his desire to counteract heresy from the pulpit and through Bible study. Suitable candidates for the priesthood may be found among experienced monks, John acknowledges, although the mere practice of fasting, vigils, and other deprivations alone is no guarantee of the possession of virtues. John himself, despite his earlier monastic training, was convinced of his own lack of suitability for ecclesiastical leadership.

In Chrysostom’s view, the proper exercise of the priesthood is a much greater accomplishment than the pursuit of the ascetic life can ever be, for there are many men and women who can perform feats of asceticism, but only very few who are qualified to become shepherds of their flock.¹⁰⁸ Moreover, it is much more difficult to uphold a life of Christian virtues under the scrutiny of one’s congregation and in the face of daily administrative and personal challenges than it is to live a life of austerity in the seclusion of a hermitage.¹⁰⁹ The priesthood, and not the ascetic life of the monk, is in John’s eyes the pinnacle of Christian perfection. Spiritual and ascetic authority may be valuable in themselves, but for those who have been elected to office, they are merely qualifications that assist them in their calling: “It behooves one who undertakes this care to have much understanding, and, before understanding, great grace from God, and uprightness of conduct, and purity of life and superhuman virtue.”¹¹⁰

John Chrysostom’s work draws attention to the necessity for priests and bishops to be exemplars of the holy life. The ideal candidates for the priesthood are therefore those who had already removed themselves from the congregation in order to take up the monastic life. John is well aware that his exalted view of the responsibilities of the priesthood results in expanding the divide between it and the laity: “Let the distinction between the pastor and his charge be as great as that between rational man and irrational creatures, not to say even greater, inasmuch as the risk is concerned with things of far greater importance.”¹¹¹ John’s recognition of the vital importance of the manifold duties with which the priesthood is charged for the salvation of others will eventually lead him to disassociate the office of the bishop from the person who holds that office. This idea is still absent in On the Priesthood but is expressed in no uncertain terms in a later sermon: “We are God’s ambassadors to the people. If this claim seems harsh to you, consider that this concerns not us as individuals, but the episcopal office itself; it does not concern one or the other person, but the bishop. Nobody should hear me [as a person], but the dignity [of the office].”¹¹²

Within a few years of John Chrysostom’s composition of On the Priesthood, Ambrose of Milan wrote his On the Duties of the Clergy in 388 or 389, one and a half decades into his own episcopate. Its explicit intention was to provide the clergy with a guideline of the character traits and practical skills that are advantageous in gaining and maintaining the confidence of their congregation. ¹¹³ The work is inspired in form and content by Cicero’s De officiis. The first book deals with that which is virtuous, the second with that which is useful, and the third with a combination of both. Ambrose does not delineate the tasks and functions of the clergy in a systematic way, although he often refers to them. His focus is rather on providing ethical guidance on the acquisition and practice of those virtues that are particularly befitting to the clergy. He illustrates these virtues with extensive reference to biblical examples and, whenever he can, also to examples from classical literature. His concluding words emphasize that this method was the intention of his work:

These things I have left with you, my children, that you may guard them in your minds—you yourselves will prove whether they will be of any advantage. Meanwhile they offer you a large number of examples, for almost all the examples drawn from our forefathers, and also many a word of theirs, are included within these three books; so that, although the language may not be graceful, yet a succession of old-time examples set down in such small compass may offer much instruction.¹¹⁴

In his outline of the ideal character of priests and bishops, Ambrose borrows heavily from Paul’s catalog of episcopal virtues in 1 Timothy 3. Bishops ought to be hospitable, kind, just, without desire for the belongings of others, and they ought to avoid litigation at all costs, even to the point of suffering injustice.¹¹⁵ Earlier in the same treatise, he adds a further argument for the importance of sacerdotal virtues. Priests and bishops must be publicly perceived to be adorned with virtue so that those who observe them in the performance of their ministry at the altar will worship God who adorned them in this way and whose glory is reflected in his servants.¹¹⁶ Ambrose recognizes the bishop’s sacerdotal function and insists that it receives its justification from the bishop’s personal conduct. But where Chrysostom had called attention to the priest’s celebration of the eucharist to emphasize the importance of a pure life of the celebrant as its minister and mediator, Ambrose takes a step away from the altar, as it were, and acknowledges that the bishop has stepped into the public limelight. No longer an internal officer of an exclusive religious group, the bishop now performs his many tasks on behalf of an expanding Christian community under the scrutiny of pagan neighbors. He has become distinct from the community and is distinguishable to outsiders. The virtues that some theologians two centuries previously demanded of all Christians are now expected primarily of the bishop. He is perceived by insiders and outsiders alike as the representative of Christianity. It depends on his conduct whether the church is credited or discredited. Indeed, he may attract converts through his example. Augustine’s well-known story of his conversion under the impression of Ambrose’s preaching is testimony to the crucial role that individual bishops could play in this regard.

Next in chronological sequence comes Julianus Pomerius’s treatise On the Contemplative Life. The author was a well-respected professor of rhetoric in late fifth-century Gaul. The only other details known about his life are that he hailed from the province of Mauretania in North Africa, that in 497 he was the teacher of Caesarius of Arles, and that he maintained a friendly correspondence with Ennodius of Pavia and Ruricius of Limoges. He was known to have written three further works, all dealing with the practice of Christian virtues: On the Soul and Its Quality, On the Formation of Dedicated Virgins, and On Contempt for the World and for the Things That Will Perish.¹¹⁷ Pomerius composed On the Contemplative Life at the behest of a certain Julianus whom he respectfully addresses throughout the volume. This Julianus is perhaps identical with the bishop of Carpentras, near Arles, of the same name. Pomerius explains the origin of his work in the preface: “You bid me, then, to discuss in a few words the nature of the contemplative life and to explain as briefly as I can the difference between it and the active life; whether one charged with ruling a church can become a sharer in the contemplative virtue.”¹¹⁸ The book may be characterized as a call to internal reform, as it combines outspoken criticism of clerical indignities with a systematic treatment of virtues and vices that borrows as much from ancient philosophy as it does from Augustine.

Pomerius begins by reminiscing about how Julianus had toyed with the idea of abandoning his episcopal see and retreating to solitude, “from despair of fulfilling your charge.”¹¹⁹ Julianus, as Pomerius recalls, was “deeply moved and grieved” because “you could neither discharge your office with any zeal nor abandon it without sin.”¹²⁰ Pomerius wrote his treatise roughly a century after John Chrysostom’s work, at a time when the church had established its presence in all the major cities throughout the empire, and his approach is more pragmatic than Chrysostom’s. Where John invoked the awesome dignity of the ecclesiastical ministry and the great demands it places on the spiritual abilities of its bearer to the extent of being too overwhelming for some (including himself), Pomerius simply takes it for granted that men of good upbringing and suitable social class will be ordained to the clergy. His concern is how they can discharge their office for the benefit of the church. How can they resist the temptation of enriching themselves, of basking in the respect that their office commands, or of relishing the applause for their carefully crafted sermons?

Instead of weighing priesthood against monasticism, Pomerius shifts the terms and distinguishes between active virtue and contemplative virtue. He considers the latter superior: “The active life is the journeying; the contemplative is the summit. The former makes a man holy; the latter makes him perfect.”¹²¹ Nevertheless, it is possible for a priest to partake of the contemplative virtue, if he discharges his office properly and according to “the apostolic teaching”:

Therefore, if holy priests—not such as the divine threat declares are to be sentenced and condemned, but such as the apostolic teaching commends—convert many to God by their holy living and preaching; if they display no imperiousness, but do everything humbly and show themselves through love of holy charity affable to those over whom they have been placed; if they in some cases cure the weaknesses of their carnally living brethren by the medicine of healing words and in others bear patiently with those whom they judge to be incurable; if in the lives they live and in their preaching they seek not their own glory but Christ’s; if they do not woefully waste either their words or their deeds as the price of courting favor, but always ascribe to God whatever honor is paid them as they live and teach in a priestly manner; if the dutiful greetings of those they meet do not make them proud but weigh them down; if they consider themselves not honored but burdened by the praises of those who compliment them; if they console the afflicted, feed the needy, clothe the naked, redeem the captives, harbor strangers; if they show wanderers the way of salvation and promise hope to those who despair of gaining pardon; if they spur on those who make progress, and arouse those who are delaying, and are constantly occupied with whatever pertains to their office: who will be such a stranger to faith as to doubt that such men are sharers in the contemplative virtue, by whose words as well as example many become coheirs of the kingdom of heaven?¹²²

This passage stands at the conclusion of book 1, which deals with the contemplative life. A large part of the discussion in this book revolves around the limitations of teaching by example. Pomerius is less confident than earlier authors about the impact of a priest’s upright conduct. He maintains that it is unlikely that a priest merely by his exemplary lifestyle can bring obstinate sinners to mend their ways. He must also admonish them through his preaching.¹²³ Also, certain truths of the Christian faith, such as the life of Christ or the nature of the Trinity, cannot be imparted through the exemplary living of the priest, but have to be taught by preaching.¹²⁴ In this regard, Pomerius agrees with John Chrysostom on the importance of preaching and instruction for combating heresy.

Book 2 is devoted to a detailed and concrete discussion of the active life. Pomerius begins by expressing his apprehension that many clerics who read this will bristle at the implicit criticism of their unworthy behavior.¹²⁵ In a long, poetic passage that is reminiscent of Origen’s definition of priests “before God,” Pomerius describes the qualities of “the true priests who are the heads of churches,” and who are priests “by divine approbation”:

They especially have received the charge of caring for souls. Ably bearing the responsibility for the people entrusted to them, they untiringly supplicate God for the sins of all as for their own; and, like an Aaron, offering the sacrifice of a contrite heart and a humble spirit, which appeases God, they turn the wrath of future punishment from their people. By the grace of God they become indicators of the divine will, founders of the churches of Christ after the Apostles, leaders of the faithful, champions of truth, enemies of perverse teaching, amiable to all the good, terrifying even in appearance of those of evil conscience, avengers of the oppressed, fathers of those regenerated in the Catholic faith, preachers of the things of heaven, shock troops in battles unseen, patterns of good works, examples of virtues, and models for the faithful. . . . These are they who have merited the priesthood not by courting favor but by living spiritually; who, elevated not by the support of human patronage but by divine approbation, do not applaud themselves because of the excellence of their high office.¹²⁶

These “true priests” represent the ideal of the priesthood that the clergy should strive to attain. Pomerius does not go into further detail about them, nor does he explain in what relation they stand to the ordained clergy of his day. He also does not associate the “true priests” in any way with the monastic life, or with men who are recognized as holy men or saints.

The subsequent chapters in Pomerius’s work contain concrete advice to priests on a wide range of issues: the admonition, rebuke, and, if necessary, excommunication of sinners; the administration of church finances not as if it were personal property, but for the benefit of the poor and needy; and the avoidance of concupiscence for money, food, and wine through “spiritual abstinence,” which allows for the use of these goods, provided it is undertaken in an attitude of complete indifference. Pomerius is too much of a pragmatist to demand radical lifestyle changes of the priests. He does not believe that sinners can be brought to contrition merely by observing the exemplary lifestyle of their priests. All he asks for in the priesthood is a reform in outlook, a sense of responsibility for the spiritual and material well-being of their flock, and moderation in their desire for the comforts of life.

The third book turns to a philosophical discussion of virtues and vices. Pomerius highlights the importance of four virtues in particular for the active life of priests: justice, temperance, fortitude, and prudence. Justice is described as “something of a social virtue” because it increases in the measure in which it is applied.¹²⁷ The priest who helps others to grow in their faith himself experiences an augmentation of virtue as a result:

They act contrary to justice who, when they have been chosen because of the merit of their way of life or their learning, give preference to leisurely study over the fruitful good of ruling the common folk and who, though they could help the church in its labors, shun the work of a burdensome administration for the sake of enjoying repose.¹²⁸

The contemplative life in pursuit of learning and the active life of administration are equally valuable before God. The scholar and the priest should follow the path laid out for them, in the confidence that “they travel towards one homeland and arrive at one kingdom, doing service in different capacities as Christ, the King of all, calls them.”¹²⁹ This is Pomerius’s answer to the dilemma of his friend Julianus, which prompted the composition of this work. The priesthood is neither a burden nor a distraction from man’s supreme purpose to perfect himself in solitude, but it is a calling by God to reach personal sanctification through the active life.

Gregory the Great’s Pastoral Care had its origin in the months after his accession to the episcopal see in Rome in 590. He had already spent the previous eleven years in the service of the church, first as a deacon, then as papal legate to Constantinople. Prior to his ecclesiastic career, Gregory had acquired ample experience in civil administration, since his privileged senatorial background and his extensive studies in grammar, rhetoric, and law had led to his appointment as city prefect in Rome in 572/573. His Pastoral Care reveals the concern of an experienced administrator for the practical aspects in the exercise of ecclesiastical office.¹³⁰ It also addresses the tension between the contemplative and the active life to which Christian officeholders are exposed.¹³¹ Like John Chrysostom’s treatise, Gregory’s Pastoral Care begins as an apology to a close friend for his own desire to hide in order to avoid the responsibility of office. The work enjoyed instant popularity. The author himself sent copies to several bishops and priests of his acquaintance. It also reached the court of the emperor Maurice in Constantinople and was translated there into Greek.¹³² It was widely circulated in the Latin Middle Ages, when it was even read as a “mirror of princes”: religiously sanctioned ecclesiastical leadership and religiously sanctioned royal leadership were obviously thought to have a great deal in common. With Pastoral Care, finally, we have a proper and complete manual for priests, a how-to guide for the discharge of the priestly office that is concrete testimony to Gregory’s manifold efforts to breathe new life into the ecclesiastical administration of Italy. This was not an easy task. In his personal letters, Gregory admits that he was often overwhelmed by the challenge of maintaining a religious outlook in the midst of administrative work: “Under the pretext of the episcopate, I am reduced to the concerns of the world.”¹³³

Gregory’s Pastoral Care proceeds in systematic and logical fashion, arranged in four books:

The nature of the case requires that one should carefully consider the way in which the position of supreme rule ought to be approached, and when it is duly reached, how life should be spent in it; how, in a life of rectitude, one should teach others; and, in the proper performance of his teaching office, with vigilance one should realise each day one’s weakness. All this must be ensured lest humility be wanting when office is assumed, the way of life be at variance with the office accepted, teaching divest life of rectitude, and presumption overrate teaching.¹³⁴

Writing two centuries after John Chrysostom, Gregory senses the need to remind the priests in his charge not to take their ordination into the Christian ministry lightly nor to neglect the duties of their office. He follows Chrysostom in declaring ordination to be the final confirmation of personal virtues, a responsibility for service to others that those in possession of the requisite virtues cannot reject. He places particular emphasis on the congruity of personal lifestyle and teaching. Only if the priest himself is perceived as practicing what he preaches will his words be heeded and he will become an exemplar to others. All of book 3 is dedicated to the issue of preaching. After dealing with teaching by example, Gregory gives detailed and practical advice on how to address an audience that consists of men and women of different social backgrounds who have different life experiences and spiritual needs. Gregory here reaches an unprecedented level of reflection on preaching, which was only barely hinted at in Chrysostom’s treatise. He places a high prize on the priest’s role as interpreter of the Word of God and on his interaction with his congregation through his sermons. The possession of personal virtues validates and lends authority to the priest’s words of textual interpretation and moral admonition from the pulpit. In other words, the bishop’s ascetic authority lends credence to his claim to possess spiritual authority.