Saint Martin of Tours – Readings

Commentary on Isaiah 61:1-3; Matthew 25:31-40

The Gospel reading is from Matthew. It is from the part of this Gospel which deals with the end times (chapts 24-25). In chapter 25, there are the three great parables about being prepared for the day—after we have left this world—when we have to meet the Lord and give an account of our stewardship.

The first parable is that of the 10 bridesmaids, five of them sensible and five foolish. Because the groom was long in coming, the foolish young women did not have a enough oil and, when they went to get more, the groom arrived. The sensible bridesmaids entered the marriage hall with him while the others were shut out. They hear the terrible words:

Truly I tell you, I do not know you. (Matt 25:12)

The second parable is that of the talents. Three employees are given large sums of money (a talent was a huge amount) and told to trade with them until the master returns. Two of them do very well and double their capital—their master is very pleased. The third one, afraid of the consequences if he lost his capital, did nothing with it and, when the master returned, gave it back to him intact. The master was not at all pleased, and the man is severely reprimanded. The message is clear. The gifts that God has given us are to be used for the benefit of others.

The third parable (today’s Gospel) is the scene of the Last Judgement when all will be called to account for their service of the Lord. What is most striking about this passage is that there is absolutely no mention of the kinds of things that most of us Catholics think are important. No mention of religious duties, time given to prayer, attendance at Mass, celebration of the other sacraments. Not a word about the Ten Commandments. Not a word about killing, sexual misbehaviour, or stealing. People will be punished and banished not because of the bad things they have done, but because of the good things they did not do. “But I didn’t do anything bad!” will not help as an excuse.

And the only good things mentioned are loving and caring acts directed at people who are in need. The only people mentioned are the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the sick and those in prison (for whatever reason). “I was hungry…I was thirsty…I was naked…I was sick…I was in prison and you did nothing to help or comfort me. Go away from me forever! I do not recognise you!”

Of course, we were warned by Jesus. What is the mark of a good Christian? Matthew’s Gospel tells us:

…just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me. (Matt 25:40)

And from John Gospel:

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. (John 13:34-35)

It is on these that we have to examine our consciences. It is on these that we will have to answer at the end of our lives. All the other ‘religious’ things we are told to observe have no value unless they are an expression of this agape-love.

The choice of gospel today is obviously inspired by the famous gesture of Martin when, as a soldier, he cut his cloak in half and gave one part to a near naked beggar. That night in a dream Jesus appeared to him, wearing the half-cloak. What Martin had done for the beggar, he had done for Jesus himself. And it is the same for every loving act we do, especially to a person in need.

The First Reading is from Isaiah. It is a magnificent passage which reflects wonderfully the life of Martin. It begins with words used by Jesus himself at the beginning of his public life and found in Luke’s Gospel. After his baptism and experience with the devil in the desert, Jesus went to the synagogue in his home town of Nazareth and, essentially, made what we would call today his ‘mission statement’:

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn…

These words are echoed in today’s Gospel passage.

Later on in the passage from Isaiah, the Lord, speaking through his prophet, says:

For I, the Lord, love justice, I hate robbery and wrongdoing… (Is 61:8)

These words, which Jesus used to describe his mission and to indicate that the prophet’s words were being fulfilled in him, are also applicable to Martin the bishop and pastor.

And at the end, the prophet himself says:

I will greatly rejoice in the Lord; my whole being shall exult in my God, for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation; he has covered me with the robe of righteousness…
(Is 61:10)

Martin, as bishop was outstanding for his love and concern for the poor, for his personal austerity of life, for his integrity and deep spirituality. He is indeed a model for every bishop, for every priest and indeed for every Christian who is aware of their responsibility to share their God-given gifts with others.

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Saint Martin of Tours, Bishop

Martin, who became one of the most popular saints in medieval Europe, was born in 316 in Savaria, Pannonia (now Szombathely, Hungary). His father was a tribune (senior officer) in the Imperial Horse Guard, a unit of the Roman army. He was stationed at Ticimum, Cisalpine Gaul (now Pavia in Italy) and it was here that Martin grew up.

Already at an early age he had a desire to become a Christian, although it was still very much a minority religion in Europe, and began receiving instruction as a catechumen. At the age of 15, as the son of a senior officer, he was expected to join the cavalry and was stationed near Ambianensium civitas (now Amiens).

It is at this period of his life that occurred the event for which he is best known and which became a favourite subject for artists. On seeing an almost naked beggar at Amiens, he cut his own cloak in two and gave one part to the beggar. This act of charity was followed that night by a dream in which Christ appeared to him wearing the part of the cloak he had given away.

The dream confirmed Martin in his Christian leanings and he was baptized at the age of 18. He served in the military for another two years until, just before a battle with the Gauls at Worms in 336, Martin determined that his faith was incompatible with war. He was quoted as saying:

I am a soldier of Christ. I cannot fight.

He was charged with cowardice and jailed, but in response to the charge, volunteered to go unarmed to the front line. Before his commanders could challenge his offer, the enemy sued for peace. There was no battle and Martin was discharged.

After this, Martin became a disciple of Hilary at Poitiers, was baptized, and, after Hilary had been sent into exile, travelled to Pannonia, Milan, and IlIyricum. When Hilary returned to Poitiers in 360, Martin rejoined him and became a solitary hermit in Liguge, on a piece of land given to him by Hilary. It was here that some disciples joined him and formed what was the first monastery in Gaul. Martin remained a pioneer of the monastic movement until he was made bishop of Tours in 372 by the popular demand of the clergy and the people.

Even as a bishop, he continued to lead the very austere life of a monk. At first, he lived in a cell near his cathedral church, but later in Marmoutier, a monastery of 80 monks he founded facing Tours from the opposite bank of the Loire River. He also established other monasteries which he saw as an effective means for one of his objectives, the conversion of rural areas. Prior to this, Christianity had been largely confined to urban areas (the Latin word paganus means a ‘rural person’). Martin demolished temples built to idols, cut down trees believed to be sacred, and visited the more remote areas of his diocese on foot, by donkey, or by boat. During his 25 years as bishop, he earned an increasing reputation in miraculously healing lepers and even of bringing a dead man back to life.

He was also know for his involvement in doctrinal disputes. His main targets were the followers of Priscillian, a Gnostic sect. Priscillian was condemned by the Synod of Bordeaux in 384, having been already condemned by Pope Damasus and St Ambrose. The sect appealed to the Emperor Maximus, but in the end they were convicted of sorcery, then a capital offence, by the emperor’s court at Trier in 386.

But Martin pleaded in Priscillian’s favour on the grounds that heretical teaching was a matter to be handled by the Church, and not by a secular court. Martin’s stand was not supported by many of his contemporaries. When Priscillian was put to death, the first time a person had been executed for heresy, his sect actually increased in numbers in Spain. It would continue to survive until about the 6th century.

As Martin he grew older and death was approaching, his people asked him not to leave them. As a response to their plea he prayed:

Lord, if your people still need me, I do not refuse the work; let your will be done.

He died at the age of 81 on 8 November, 397 at Candes, and was buried at Tours on 11 November.

His cult spread rapidly not only because of his reputation as a miracle-worker in life and after death, but also because of the Life of St Martin written by his friend Sulpicius Severus. This became one of the most popular books of the Middle Ages, comparable in influence with Athanasius’ Life of Antony, as a model for medieval hagiographers.

His cult in France is reflected in the 500 villages and 4,000 parish churches which are dedicated to him. His tomb became the principal place of pilgrimage for the Franks, and was a famous stopping-point for pilgrims on the road to Santiago de Compostela.

Outside of Gaul, churches were soon consecrated in his honour at Rome, Ravenna, and later Chioggia. Spain, Germany, and the Netherlands all revered him widely. In Britain, from early times, he was a patron of churches—the most ancient being Canterbury (under Augustine) and Whithorn (under Ninian). By 1800, 173 churches in Britain bore his name.

From the late 4th century to the late Middle Ages, much of Western Europe, including Britain, engaged in a period of fasting beginning on the day after St Martin’s Day, November 11. This fast period lasted 40 days, and was, therefore, called Quadragesima Sancti Martini (the forty days of St Martin). At St Martin’s eve and on the feast day, people ate and drank heartily for the last time before beginning the fast. This fasting time would later be called Advent by the Church.

In art, the most popular scene is that of dividing his cloak to clothe a beggar, but there are also innumerable other representations in illuminated books and in stained glass at Tours, Chartres, Beauvais, and Bourges (in France) and York, Chalgrave and Nassington (in England). His emblems are either a globe of fire over his head seen while he celebrated Mass, or (from the 15th century) a goose, whose migration often coincides with his feast. ‘St Martin’s Summer’ is a spell of fine weather which sometimes occurs around his feast.

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