“Thus through the spaces of the great church come rays of light, expelling clouds of care, and filling the mind with joy. The sacred light cheers all: even the sailor guiding his bark on the waves, leaving behind him the unfriendly billows of the raging Pontus, and winding a sinuous course amidst creeks and rocks, with heart fearful at the dangers of his nightly wanderings—perchance he has left the Ægean and guides his ship against adverse currents in the Hellespont, awaiting with taut forestay the onslaught of a storm from Africa—does not guide his laden vessel by the light of Cynosure, or the circling Bear, but by the divine light of the church itself. Yet not only does it guide the merchant at night, like the rays from the Pharos on the coast of Africa, but it also shows the way to the living God.”
CHAPTER IV
THE AMBO
The third part of the description of the Silentiary is devoted to the ambo, the chief feature in Justinian’s reinstatement of the interior. It stood far out from the bema, on the central axis of the church. Germanus, Patriarch of Constantinople from 715-740 A.D., and Simeon of Thessalonica both speak of this as the right position for ambones; “the most holy bema should be towards the east, with the ambo in front of it, if there is room.”[83] The two flights of steps, by which the ambo—the name of which is derived from the Greek for ascending—was reached, were on the east and west sides. In the ambo the Gospel was read, and here was recited a prayer[84] at the conclusion of the liturgy, which seems to have been a compendium of those previously uttered in the sanctuary; the priest left the bema, ascended the ambo on the east side, and prayed with his face towards the west. Important offices in coronations were also performed here.
Paulus’ description of the ambo opens with a preface of thirty iambic lines in praise of the emperor, who has added the “one thing needful to our all-glorious church.” The importance of this work is made an excuse for interrupting the “usual pursuits of his hearers even for a third time.” Twenty hexameter lines are devoted to an invocation to the apostles and saints, and then follows the description of the ambo.
“Now in the central space of the wide temple, yet tending rather towards the east, rises a tower (purgos), fair to look upon, set apart for the reading of the sacred books. Upright it stands on steps, reached by two flights, one of which stretches towards the west, but the other towards the dawn. So are they opposite to one another, and both lead to a space formed like a circle. Now one stone curves round to form this circular space, though it is not altogether equal to a complete curve (tornos), but it agrees with it except where the edge of the stone is lengthened; for towards east and west a flight of steps is drawn out like a neck, projecting from the circled stone.
Fig. 7.—Plan of the Ambo both above and below.
“And up to the height of a man’s girdle our godlike king has formed, with the help of silver, beauteous walls curving like crescents. He has not bent silver right round the stone, but a silver plaque (plax) is spread out in the centre, to adorn the circling wall. Thus has the skilful workman spread out two sure crescents and opened on either side a flight of steps.
“Nor does fear seize those descending the sacred steps, because the sides are unfenced; for hedge walls of glittering marble have been reared there; and they are high above the steps for the hand of a man to hold as he mounts, grasping them to ease his way; so on each side they grow upwards in a rising line, and stop at length with the steps which are between them. Thus good use is made of the stone; for they have quarried savage hill, and steep promontory, to have a far-stretching safeguard to the long flight. And the whole is cunningly wrought with skilful workmanship, and glitters with ever-changing brightness. In parts it seems that whirlpools eddy over the surface, intertwining circles winding under the wandering curves of other circles. In parts is seen a rosy bloom, mingled with wan paleness, or fair gleams of light, as from bright spearheads; in other places shines a softer glory, like the radiance of boxwood, or the delightsome bees-wax, which mortal men ofttimes lay on the unsullied cliffs, and turn over beneath the rays of the sun, while it changes to a silver white; yet not completely altering its substance, it still shows veins of gold. Even so the deep-stained ivory of many a year’s growth expands its gleaming flesh on the curved breast. At times it seems to have a pale green hue. Yet the craftsman has not left it pallid and unadorned, for he has fixed it in fair and cunningly wrought designs on the stone. Thus over all in many a curve its beauty is displayed. In parts the broad surface is tinged with the choicest tint of the pale crocus, or appears almost without colour, like light creeping round the pointed horns of the new-born moon.