The Conclave: A Sometimes Secret and Occasionally Bloody History of Papal Elections Read Free

While he was speaking somebody shouted out “Ambrose for bishop,” and the cry was taken up by the rest of the vast crowd.
    Ambrose may have been unbaptized, but he was still a good candidate as far as the Christians of Milan were concerned. Because he was not yet a Christian they may have thought him neutral between the pro- and anti-Arian factions: in fact he was to prove himself a vigorous anti-Arian, but no one was yet to know that. He would obviously have influence with the Emperor – a very important consideration when the population was still split between pagans and Christians. He was also unmarried, and his celibate lifestyle might have seemed (rightly, as it turned out, though Ambrose was later to imply that his life before the election was not wholly moral) evidence of an ascetic disposition appropri- ate for a bishop. What is more, he resisted the appointment, which was always a good sign because it was taken as proof of the reluc- tant candidate’s humility – again, a desirable virtue in a bishop.
    In Times of Persecution 7
    Ambrose himself says he was unwilling to take up the o ffi ce of bishop; later accounts narrate some of the things he did to try to avoid it. Inviting prostitutes to his house is most probably a later rhetorical flourish; certainly the man who wrote about it was not there at the time to witness the fact, though he eventually became Ambrose’s secretary and may have heard something about his e ff orts to avoid consecration from Ambrose himself. It is quite possible that he twice tried to flee the city but was brought back. But whatever the details, the voice of the people finally won out, and the unbaptized (and, a fortiori, unordained) former governor of the city became Bishop of Milan, which was at that time the Western Empire’s capital city, rather than Rome.
    Candidates were not always as unwilling as Ambrose. Just under a century later the aristocratic letter-writer and poet Sidonius Apollinaris, who eventually became Bishop of what is now Clermont-Ferrand, wrote to a friend about the election to the bishopric of Bourges. Two whole rows of seats were needed, he said, for all the candidates, and such was the excitement among the people that they had to give up any say and leave it to the judgment of the bishops present.
    Sidonius could be an acerbic observer of episcopal elections. In the 460s he told a friend about what had happened when he accompanied his friend Patiens, the Bishop of Lyons (Sidonius had been born in Lyons), to Châlon-sur-Saône, where Patiens was to preside over the choice of a new bishop for that town. A group of bishops gathered, but their views were at odds, apparently, with those of the townspeople. The problem was that there were three candidates, but Sidonius did not think very highly of any of them. The first, he said, was “morally bankrupt” but kept going on about his ancient lineage; the second had provided rather good food for his supporters; and the third had secretly agreed that, were he elected, he would divide out church property among those who voted for him. Faced with these unsuitable candidates the bishops chose the senior (or arch) deacon John out of the noisy and angry
    8 The Conclave
    crowd – much to his astonishment, Sidonius remarks – and made him the bishop. Deacons were clergy – though not of the rank of priests – who were in charge of the welfare of the local Christian community, and were often popular figures. The archdeacon was, therefore, well known to the community as well as to the visiting bishops and also had a reputation for holiness. The townsfolk accepted the bishops’ decision.
    These stories give a flavor of what an episcopal election, conducted in front of the Christians of the city, was like in the early centuries of the Church. Of the very earliest elections to the bishopric of Rome we know next to nothing. It has already been remarked that, in the traditional list of the first dozen popes, they follow one