St. Martin of Tours — “The Glory of Gaul” — was born around A.D. 316 in Szombathely, Hungary (known then as Sabaria, Pannonia) and grew up the son of a Roman military officer in Pavia, Italy. He joined the Roman army and was sent to Amiens, where, on horseback, he met a starving man begging alms at the city gates. Moved by deep compassion, he tore his red, woolen his cloak in two with his sword and gave half to the beggar. The next night, he had a dream in which he saw Jesus wearing the half of the cloak he’d given away, surrounded by angels. In the dream, Our Lord asked him to look at it and to see if he recognized it. He did, of course, and realized that he must convert and devote his life to Christ. (St. Martin’s remaining piece of cloak became a very revered relic. In fact, the building where his cloak — “cappa” in Latin — was preserved was known as the “cappella,” the root of our words “chapel” and “chaplain.”)
Let us ask St. Martin to give us his zeal for the House of God, the Holy Catholic Church, and his efficiency in destroying idols. May he help us apply his spirit in fighting the idol of sentimental religiosity in our souls, so that we might truly understand the lives of the saints, follow their example, and become saints ourselves.
“O holy Martin, have compassion on our depth of misery! A winter more severe than that which caused thee to divide thy cloak now rages over the world; many perish in the icy night brought on by the extinction of faith and the cooling of charity.
Come to the aid of those unfortunates, whose torpor prevents them from asking assistance. Wait not for them to pray; but forestall them for the love of Christ in whose name the poor man of Amiens implored thee, whereas they scarcely know how to utter it. And yet their nakedness is worse than the beggar’s, stripped as they are of the garment of grace, which their fathers received from thee and handed down to posterity.
Has that history of the brightest days of the Church, of the reign of Christ as King, come to an end, O Martin? Let the enemy imagine he has already sealed our tomb. But the story of thy miracles tells us that thou canst raise up even the dead.
Was not the catechumen of Ligugé snatched from the land of the living, when thou didst call him back to life and Baptism? Supposing that, like him, we were already among those whom the Lord remembereth no more, the man or the country that has Martin for protector and father need never yield to despair.
If thou deign to bear us in mind, the Angels will come and say again to the supreme Judge: “This is the man, this is the nation for whom Martin prays;” and they will be commanded to draw us out of the dark regions where dwell the people without glory, and to restore us to Martin, and to our noble destinies.” – Dom Prosper Gueranger
