SAINTMARTIN'S CAPPA

Anyone whose shadow has darkened the door of a chapel ought to know the story of Saint Martin of Tours, whose feast the Church celebrates every November 11. Indeed, the life of this fourth century saint figures into the origin for the very word chapel and is an inspiration for what happens there. The story goes like this...

As a soldier in the Roman Empire, Martin was riding his horse in military exercises one cold winter day when he passed a shivering beggar. His conscience was stung, so he stopped to tend to the man. He dismounted the horse, took off his heavy military cape (called in Latin a cappa) and used his sword to cut a blanket-sized half to cover the man. That same night, he saw the beggar in a dream. Warmed by the cape he had been given, the beggar looked at Martin and, with the face and voice of Jesus Christ, thanked him. After this rite of initiation into discipleship, Martin knew that all his weapons and all his armor must be turned over to Christ. He immediately sought baptism and discharge from the Roman army. In explaining his stance as a conscientious objector, Martin spoke the same words used by a soldier-martyr forty years earlier, Marcellus of Tangiers. Martin declared, "I am a soldier of Jesus Christ; it is not permissible for me to fight.” Once baptized, he was ordained a priest, then a bishop, and was revered for his holiness throughout his life.

                  When Martin of Tours died, people acclaimed him a saint and raised up devotion to him. As the principal act of their devotion, the faithful obtained half of the famous cappa, the half that Martin kept, enshrined it in a tent, and prayed there with it. The tent that held the cappa was called the capella, which became the Latin word for chapel. The cappa proved a fitting symbol for Martin's desire to follow Christ above all else. Removed from the field of violent battle and given over for the good of the poor, his cappa symbolized the sacrificial offering he made of his life.

There is a lesson here for us. When we seek out chapels, we might remember the origin of these sacred places.

A chapel is where we beg God to help us give over the weapons and armor that threaten our allegiance to God. It is where we come face to face, as did Martin, with our divided loyalties to Christ and Caesar. And it is where we are given warmth and strength from the gift of saints like Martin, who show us a way forward.

          November 11 is an appropriate date to reflect on the reality of war and the call to peace. Not only is it the Feast of Saint Martin of Tours. It is also Veterans' Day, Armistice Day, marking the end of that "Great War” in which Christians slaughtered one another by the hundreds of thousands at the behest of the state. And this year, it is only twelve days before the last Sunday of the Church's calendar, the feast of Christ the King.

          In the readings we will hear for that climactic feast, Jesus tells Pilate, "My kingdom does not belong to this world.” His evidence is that if it were a worldly kingdom, "my attendants would be fighting to keep me from being handed over.” (Jn 18:36) As it was, the attendants of Jesus did not take up arms, and his kingship was lost on the crowd. It was not lost on Martin of Tours, however. Martin chose to live in service of Christ's kingdom rather than the world's. He could have joined the chorus of those shouting to Pilate, "We have no king but Caesar.” (Jn 19:15) Instead, he joined that other heavenly chorus.

           And when we celebrate the Feast of Christ the King--indeed when we celebrate any Mass or enter any capella-- we are invited to join Martin in that same heavenly chorus of angels and saints. May our voices be one with theirs in the unending hymn of praise: Holy, Holy, Holy...

Retrieved from http://www.catholicpeacefellowship.org/downloads/allsaints03.pdf

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Last modified: Tuesday, August 7, 2018, 10:09 AM