Feast of St. Martin of Tours, Bishop

Courtesy of Catholic Online!

Martin lived his life with a zeal for Christ. Even before his Baptism, he loved and served the Lord, especially when he found him among the poor and vulnerable:

On a bitterly cold winter day, the young tribune Martin rode through the gates, probably dressed in the regalia of his unit -- gleaming, flexible armor, ridged helmet, and a beautiful white cloak whose upper section was lined with lambswool. As he approached the gates he saw a beggar, with clothes so ragged that he was practically naked. The beggar must have been shaking and blue from the cold but no one reached out to help him. Martin, overcome with compassion, took off his mantle. In one quick stroke he slashed the lovely mantle in two with his sword, handed half to the freezing man and wrapped the remainder on his own shoulders. Many in the crowd thought this was so ridiculous a sight that they laughed and jeered but some realized that they were seeing Christian goodness. That night Martin dreamed that he saw Jesus wearing the half mantle he had given the beggar. Jesus said to the angels and saints that surrounded him, "See! this is the mantle that Martin, yet a catechumen, gave me." When he woke, it was the "yet a catechumen" that spurred Martin on and he went immediately to be baptized. He was eighteen years old.

This story inspired me to key these verses nine years ago:
A Friend of Jesus

When Rome's iron hand still held
a continent in its grasp,
Martin from the house of Tours
One night rode on a task.

His assignment was a simple one:
bring greetings to a powerful lord.
He needed only be late for none
And share wine, dinner and board.

Along the night road, as torrential rain fell,
Martin saw a poor old man shiver,
With barely a sackclothe to keep him warm,
The old man's eyes asked him, "Deliver?"

For a moment, Martin tensed the reins.
Time was passing by.
But before he trotted past,
Martin looked up at the sky.

Up to the sky, down to the man
He felt pity throb in his throat.
Up to the sky, down to the man.
and stopped his mount along the road

With a fierce pull, Martin tore his cloak in two
Jumped from his horse, and covered the old man.
Only his eyes told Martin, "thank you."
and Martin smiled, "I've done what I can."

Well, Martin kept his task that night,
ate and drank his fill.
And later, when he slept at last,
He dreamed dreams full of thrill

The Lord stood at a stairway to Heavan
wrapped in half a nobleman's cloak.
The Angels called out
"Lord, what do you wear?"
And He said,
"The Cloak my friend Martin gave me."

A little stiff, akward: I doubt I'd craft it the same way today. However, I'd like to believe that it still reflects the awe I felt when I first read of this affair in St. Martin's life. Even in the Christian-tolerant Roman Empire of Martin's time, his act of compassion earned him mainly contempt from his peers. However, what man scoffs, God celebrates.

Have we seen the opportunities to clothe the Lord? Do we stop and do what Compassion requires? Too often in my own life, I've walked on by. I'll bet many of us have. And I'd raise that wager to say that we heard nothing at all when we did. We should take no comfort in that silence.

St. Martin of Tours' model of holiness reminds us that we have opportunities to serve Christ. We can shower acts of mercy upon those in whom our Lord has most closely identified himself. We need not tremble at the silence of our own hearts and the emptiness of our own actions. We can become his hands. And, should we drown ourselves in guilt and pointless scrupulousness, let's recall one other chapter from St. Martin's life:

Martin's mistake was yet to come. He hurried back in order to forestall a massacre of the Priscillianists. Once there he absolutely refused communion with the bishops who had murdered the people. This was a strong statement that rejected the persecuting bishops as part of the communion of the Church.

Unfortunately, the emperor Maximus knew the key to Martin's heart. He had prisoners that supported the former emperor Gratian in captivity and knew Martin wanted mercy for them. Maximus said that he would free these prisoners if Martin would share communion with Ithacius. Martin agreed to do so, but afterwards was so overcome with shame and guilt for giving in to such evil that he never went to any more assemblies of bishops.

On his way home, still weighed down with a feeling that he had sinned by communicating with Ithacius, he had a vision of angel who told him that although he was right to regret what he did, he was wrong to brood over his faults. "You saw no other way out," the angel said. "Take courage again: recover your ordinary firmness; otherwise you will be imperilling not your glory but your salvation." This advice we all should remember if we dwell too much on our mistakes.

Wise counsel.

Enough sulking. We have evangelization to accomplish. Let's roll up our sleeves, Fools, and get to work. Compassion surpasses preaching in the delivery of the Gospel every time. The world awaits. Why do we?