Goodness and audacity were the keynotes of his pastoral action. His daily life was interwoven with sacrifices, prayer and missionary activity. Although from a military background, providence called him to be a monk and then a bishop.
Early in November of 397, an elderly bishop lay gravely ill in a monastery in the French village of Candes. Large crowds from Poitiers and Tours gathered at the door of the holy place. On November 8, immediately following his death, the silence and murmured prayers gave way to heated debate:
“Martin was our monk and abbot. Therefore we ask that you give us his body!” the inhabitants of Poitiers demanded.
“God took him from you and gave him to us,” replied those from Tours. “According to tradition, his tomb should be in the city where he was consecrated!”
What had this Prelate done during his life to spark such a debate?
Drawn to the life of an anchorite
Martin was born in Pannonia, a region located between Austria and Hungary, in 316 or 317. He belonged to a pagan family of the Gallo-Roman aristocracy. His name, which means “little Mars”, was given to him by his father in homage to the god of war. As an officer of the Roman army, he planned a brilliant military career for his son.
Martin’s childhood unfolded in Ticinum, present-day Pavia. Only one fact has come down to us of this time of his life: at ten years of age, he disappeared from home, leaving his parents desolate. Two days later, he returned well fed and unharmed. What had happened? To the insistent questions of his parents, relatives and neighbours, he responded with a silence enveloped in a profound peace.
Some time later, they discovered what had happened: the child had made a visit to the Christians, because he wanted to know about them and learn something about the God of the martyrs, of whom he had heard so much. However, he felt an even greater attraction for the men of the East, who had left everything that the world could offer to withdraw to the desert regions to live a life of asceticism and prayer.
Each day his longing grew to join these anchorites in Egypt, Syria or wherever God wanted to take him. Nevertheless, he still had a long way to travel before attaining this greatly desired goal.
“Martin covered Me with this cloak”
At fifteen years of age, he was conscripted into the army by imperial edict. Historians differ on the length of his military service. Some believe he remained in the army for the entire twenty-five year duration demanded at that time. As a soldier of the Imperial Guard, he spent most of his military life in Amiens.
It was there that the famous episode took place, now immortalized in hagiographic pages on Martin and in countless works of art. During the harsh winter of 335, the saint was passing through one of the city’s gates when he caught sight of a beggar shivering from cold and extending his hand in supplication. Martin had no money to give, but without a moment’s hesitation, he withdrew his sword and divided his cloak in two, giving one part to the poor man. That night, the young soldier saw Jesus Christ in a dream, clothed with the donated half of the cloak. To a host of angels, he heard Him say in a powerful voice: “Martin, who is only a catechumen, covered Me with this cloak.”1
Although as yet unbaptized, his soul was already steeped in Christian charity.
In military life, Martin behaved differently from his companions in the barracks. For example, like every member of the Imperial Guard, he had at his disposal a horse and a slave—a vile being without rights, according to the customs of the age. Yet the young soldier treated this slave as a brother, even washing his feet and serving him during meals.
Return to Pannonia and the Arian controversy
When was Martin cleansed with the waters of Baptism? This is not known with certainty. Most likely, it was while he was still in Amiens, because when he left the army in 356, he headed for Trier, where there was an active Catholic community.
Attracted by the reputation for sanctity of Bishop Hilary, he traveled to Poitiers to take this venerable prelate as his teacher and guide. The bishop received him with open arms and desired to ordain him a deacon. Martin, however, feeling unworthy of so noble an office, accepted only the minor order of exorcist.
Deepening his knowledge of Christian doctrine and ready to completely renounce the world, he felt it to be his duty to visit his parents, who had returned to Pannonia, for he earnestly desired to see them profess the Christian Faith. His teacher encouraged him in this intention, while making him promise to return.
He set out on the journey, confronting many obstacles and narrowly escaping death at the hands of brigands while crossing the Alps. At last, he found his parents and spoke to them of Christ and of eternal life, encouraging them to receive Baptism. His mother quickly accepted the somewhat mysterious, but sublime doctrine explained by her son, but his father remained obstinate in his pagan customs.
It bears mention that during this age, a tenacious battle was being waged against the Arian heretics, who denied the divinity of Our Lord Jesus Christ and, consequently, his redeeming sacrifice. In Pannonia, the number of Arian adherents was considerable, including members of the clergy. For defending the true doctrine, Martin was scourged and had to flee, returning to Poitiers.
On the way, he received news that St. Hilary had been exiled in Friesland by Emperor Constantius, for refusing to sign the decree ordering the condemnation of St. Athanasius, the most implacable adversary of this heresy.
First monastery on French soil
The absence of the venerable Hilary and the uncertainty of ever seeing him again were painful to Martin. He decided to settle, at that time, on a small Italian island near the coastal city of Albenga, which seemed to him an idyllic spot for his first experience of hermetic life.
Three years later, the holy bishop returned to Poitiers, and Martin followed him there. Under Hilary’s guidance, he settled in Ligugé, on the banks of the Clain River, to live a hermetic life dedicated solely to prayer and contemplation.
His desired isolation was of short duration: drawn by his example, numerous Christians gathered around him, forming a small community that gave rise to the first monastery established on French soil.2 By this time Martin’s reputation for holiness was well known and St. Hilary finally persuaded him to accept major orders.
From time to time, Martin left Ligugé to visit the holy bishop whom he considered his true father. It was during these moments of conviviality, filled with veneration for his master, that the disciple unknowingly prepared himself for the designs of Providence.
Bishop of Tours against his will
In 371, four years after the death of St. Hilary, Lidorus, the Bishop of Tours died. Martin was invited to assume this Episcopal See but, seeing no way of reconciling hermetic life with the duties of a shepherd of the Church, he immediately refused.
However, it happened that the Christians of Tours were even more determined that he accept the office than he was in declining it. A citizen of Tours went to Ligugé and, kneeling before him, asked him to come to the city and cure his sick wife.
Always ready to help his neighbour, the holy hermit felt obliged to accompany the man. During the journey—a three-day’s walk—a growing crowd joined them. When they reached the outskirts of Tours, all the people that surrounded him expressed the same desire: “Martin is the most worthy of the Episcopate. Blessed the Church that has a bishop such as him!”3 Only then did he realize he had fallen into a trap…
In carrying out his episcopal duties, he showed untiring zeal for the Lord’s flock entrusted to his care. He did not wait for the people to come to him: he went to the most obscure places, and at times even beyond the boundaries of his diocese, in his efforts to spread the truth of Christ.
During this time he was visited by a lawyer recently converted to Christianity—Sulpicius Severus, who, prompted by Martin’s reputation for sanctity, wanted to meet him personally. His expectations were not disappointed. He told of the confusion he felt when the holy bishop, before a meal, washed his hands, having washed his feet on the previous day: “I could not object nor contest him. His authority was such that to refuse would have been a sacrilege.”4
Sulpicius decided to be the disciple of this bishop and write his biography. He went on to faithfully accompany him everywhere, analysing with love and admiration all the facts he witnessed, which he transmitted to posterity in a book that was very popular in the Middle Ages, entitled The Life of St. Martin.
Living rule for the monks of Marmoutier
Episcopal obligations did not deviate St. Martin from his ideal. Yearning for contemplation and prayer, he ordered a cell to be built not far from the city, to which he would occasionally withdraw. Just as in Ligugé, numerous disciples gathered around him, and he eventually founded another coenobite community in that place: the famous monastery of Marmoutier.
There, St. Martin placed great emphasis on fraternal charity. The treatment among men consecrated to God out of love for the same ideal permitted neither quarrels nor envy. Community life must form individuals ready to perform courageous feats at the service of the Church. This monastery did not have any written constitutions—theirs was a living rule: the example of the founder.
In Marmoutier, as in the other monasteries that rose up from the holy bishop’s inspiration, priority was given to prayer. At that time, work was still considered an inferior occupation, and thus only the youngest monks applied themselves to it, dividing their time between prayer and the duties of scribe. It was forbidden to possess, buy or sell anything. The tunic, made of camel hide, and abstinence from wine during meals emphasized the definitive separation from the world.
Marmoutier became a centre of formation for clergy and monks. Its fame spread far and wide and requests poured in asking the founder to send some of his spiritual sons.
His repose was in doing good to souls
In the “golden age” of the Fathers of the Church, St. Martin was not outstanding for his high culture, nor for discourses on crucial doctrinal themes. God raised up other holy men for this. It was the plan of Providence that he undertake ardent works of evangelization.
Historian Régine Pernoud writes: “Indeed, he could constantly be seen, crossing through fields and woods, on the roads that lead to some village. He travelled them en route to destroy a pagan temple or to dissuade the farmers from adoring trees and springs. […] His preaching was timely and persistent, not only to large crowds, but also to small gatherings.”5
During these apostolic missions with the rural people, he abolished pagan beliefs and superstitions, and instilled Christian doctrine. His conversions were followed by ongoing formation, and his kind manner softened even the most hardened souls.
Untiring in defending the truths of the Faith, St. Martin was totus tuus both to God and to the souls entrusted to him. Kindness and audacity were the keynotes of his pastoral activity. His daily life was interwoven with sacrifices, apostolic labour, and prayer. He found his rest in doing good for souls.
His face shone like that of an angel
Approaching the age of eighty, and feeling the fatigue inherent to his years, he was called to re-establish peace among the priests of the village of Candes, who were embroiled in discord. He quickly set out to exhort them to fraternal charity, and achieved resounding success in this final mission.
Sulpicius Severus did not accompany his master on this trip, but dreamed of him, dressed in white, smiling and resplendent. “His face was like a flame; his eyes, brilliant like stars, and his hair was luminous.”6 Sulpicius witnessed the saint being transported by a swiftly moving cloud, and being welcomed into the opening gates of heaven. He awoke in alarm, and shortly afterwards a servant entered the room and announced: “Two monks from Tours have arrived bringing news of the death of Bishop Martin.”7
In fact, the venerable old man, after having restored peace among the priests of Candes, had lost all his strength and notified the monastery where he was staying. With tears, the monks prayed insistently to God that their dearly beloved father remain on earth, while they made the same supplication to him.
But St. Martin neither feared death nor rejected the combat of life. Lying on the ground upon a bed of ashes, he surrendered himself into God’s hands, ready to carry out his divine will. His face shone like that of an angel.
The death of the venerated bishop provoked a great commotion. After the famous debate between the inhabitants of Poitiers and Tours regarding which city had rights over the holy remains, the inhabitants of Tours stole away with their inestimable treasure during the night. The entire population came forth to receive him.
“And every one who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother […] will receive a hundredfold, and inherit eternal life” (Mt 19:29). St. Martin was able to experience the fulfillment of Christ’s promise: while still alive, he witnessed around himself a multitude of brothers and sisters in the Faith, and numerous spiritual sons. His evangelization planted deep and healthy roots that have made him one of the most venerated saints of the Church. ◊
Notes
