Most of us have something that belonged to one of our ancestors: a photo, a Rosary, a desk, a piece of jewelry, some embroidery work, you name it. We treasure it, because it reminds us of someone who came before us, and because usually, if it has stood the test of time, it is beautiful. Unfortunately, it is not always so with things that belong to our parents; after all, we grew up with the “thing,” and sometimes we are tired of looking at it, wanting something new.

I remember a few things in my mother’s parents’ house: a large, wooden sewing basket on wheels, painted in sage-green with little black balls for door pulls; a huge walnut roll-top desk; a chestnut wood blanket chest where grandchildren sat; copper pots and pans. When grandpa died, my maiden aunts married and the house was turned over to the landlord, the furniture went to those who wanted it. Not one of their nine living children wanted it, except for one: she was the family packrat. I was only 15, and in vain I pleaded with my mother to get at least the sewing basket. She said: “No, what do you want with that old stuff?” And now, every time that I visit the home of my cousin, the packrat’s daughter, I see the beautiful roll-top desk and the blanket chest displayed with pride (I wonder where the green sewing basket went).

Why am I bringing this up? Because the same thing has happened with the treasures of our Mother, the Church. Her treasure goes back 2000 years and all too often we, Her children, do not know that it exists, or if we do we call it “that old stuff” and repeat, with my mother: “what do we want with that?”

Fortunately, the new generations of Catholics, at least, those who are fortunate enough to look, are rediscover- ing the wonders stored in the Church’s treasure chest. One of their discoveries is, brace yourselves, Latin, and our wonderful, ancient chants. In the ancient days after Christ’s death and resurrection, not too many folks could read and write. So our ancestors learned Scripture, and particularly the Psalms, by singing. Ask any child: it’s a lot easier to memorize a song than a letter. They had no organs, no pianos, no guitars, no… nothing but their human voices. Chanting, therefore, goes back a long, long way. How do we know that? St. Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, 5:18-20, talks about singing the Lord’s praises. Since, in the beginning the Church was persecuted and each local Church met in secret, each developed its unique form of chant: there was the Assyrian, Byzantine, Armenian, Roman, Celtic etc. chant. Many of these have disappeared, but those that the faithful loved best, and deemed the most beautiful, remained. The two mostprevalent in our Roman Catholic Church are the Ambrosian and the Gregorian. You never heard of Ambrosian Chant? For shame! As someone who comes from the Church of Ambrose, the Church of Milan, I know and love Her chant. All of us should at least know how it came about, then you’ll be proud of our common Father, St. Ambrose of Milan (by the way, his feast is celebrated Monday, December 7).

In 374, the heretic bishop Auxentius, a follower of the heretic Arius and the favorite of the Roman emperor, died and the people of Milan demanded that a faithful bishop be allowed to replace him. The emperor agreed to the election of Ambrose. But the empress was not happy and was looking for a way to get even. In 375, when her husband died, the hostilities between the church and the empress, Ambrose and Justina, began. Not to be intimidated, Ambrose defeated the imperial power time and time again. Finally, Justina decided to use the imperial army to squash the “pesky” bishop.

So it was that in the year 386, the empress demanded that Ambrose give up some of the churches in Milan for the use of the Arian heretics or else. Did Ambrose cave in? HAH! He got the people together and they occupied all the churches: let the troops come and get them! The bishop himself joined the faithful crowd in the Basilica Porziana and locked everyone in. There the imperial troops went, thinking that if the shepherd was captured, the sheep would flee. As the siege began, Ambrose began to chant. For days and nights, we are told, the holy bishop patiently taught his flock how to praise the Lord by song. It is said that he personally wrote at least 13 hymns. (If you are interested, you can go on youtube.com. that’s right! Search for Giovanni Vianini, who keeps alive the Ambrosian tradition in Milan, and you can hear his schola cantorum chant the words of the great bishop). How did the standoff end? Do you have to ask? The empress found that she had better things to do than to continue fighting this stubborn bishop and moved on.

Gregorian Chant, which follows the footsteps of Ambrose, is now the most common form in the Catholic Church. And guess who is re-discovering its priceless treasure? Our young, of course! Here at Holy Trinity, there is a group of very talented, very dedicated young folks who inspire us to chant with them, usually at the 11:00 am Mass. They have trained for years, and their beautiful voices show their dedication and their talent. Every time that I hear them, I am reminded of the holy bishop Ambrose, still beloved by the Milanese, and I thank God that his heritage remains alive among us. Hopefully, more and more young people will search for the beauty that is waiting to be discovered in the storehouse of our ancient Mother, the Catholic Church, and cherish what generations before them loved.