ST. MARTIN OF TOURS, THE "RAISER OF THREE DEAD"
"That I may know him and the power of his resurrection."
—Philippians 3:10
Martin of Tours (316-397) has always been one of the most attractive of saints. As I type this in the home of a priest friend, on the wall nearby is a colorful bas-relief of Martin astride his militarily caparisoned horse. It portrays the young Roman officer in the legion of the Emperor Julian in his armor, with his sword raised to divide his military cloak. Except for his armor, the cloak is his only clothing.
At the Gate of Amiens, sitting on the ground on a cold winter day, a beggar, piteously naked, looks up to Martin. It is to this impoverished man that Martin gives half his cloak. Some of his fellow soldiers were amused to see Martin return to camp with only half his cloak—scarcely army propriety. But that night Christ appeared to Martin with a throng of accompanying angels; He said to them, "Martin, still a catechumen, has covered Me with his cloak."
The accepted life of Martin is that written by Sulpicius Severus, a Roman nobleman, in his Dialogues. Sulpicius was not only a friend of Martin, but he also kept up with Martin's disciples after the saint's death. In 396, about a year before Martin's death, Sulpicius wrote the biography that became so famous and which stirred up so much emulation of the lives of early holy monks. It ultimately became a model for other biographies of saints. Church historians such as Poulet-Raemers and Father Hippolyte Delehaye, S.J., critical Bollandist scholar, have accepted this work as authentic. (Those who wish to learn more of Martin than space permits here would do well to refer to the popular life written by Henri Gheon and translated by Frank Sheed, St. Martin of Tours—a book based largely on the Dialogues of Sulpicius.)
Sulpicius, born about 360, knew St. Paulinus of Nola, with whom he corresponded. He was also a contemporary of Sts. Ambrose, Augustine and Jerome. Sulpicius compared Martin with the Apostles. He might very well do so, and even be excused for any excess enthusiasm, for Martin, a holy soldier who courageously stood up to Emperor Julian (the Apostate), became a hermit, monk, founder, bishop, pastor and worker of great miracles and wonders in his missionary labors.
In fourth-century Gaul, Christianity had followers only in large cities like Lyons. The countryside was still predominantly pagan. It was Martin who would begin to change that condition. By his works he would set an example for parish organization, for a bishop's visitations, and for pastoral solicitude.
St. Martin's beginnings were in far-off Sabaria, a town of Pannonia (area of modern Hungary). But he was reared in Ticinun Ita (Pavia) where his father was a soldier, and later a military tribune. Martin became a catechumen in 325 and remained in the catechumenate until his Baptism in 337. In the meantime he was conscripted into the military in 330, and began active service with the Roman legions in 334 under Emperors Constantius and Julian. Following his penchant for solitude and contemplation, he left the legions when he was about 25 years old.
Martin knew St. Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers, and eventually put himself under the holy prelate's spiritual direction. But first he tried a hermit's life in a forest by the Rhine. Then he made a trip to his aging parents' home at Sabaria. On his return he established a community at Milan, but was expelled by the Arian bishop, Auxentius.
Hearing that St. Hilary had been released from his exile in distant Phrygia, Martin (who was at a hermitage at Liguria) tried to meet the saint at Rome. However, he only caught up with Hilary at Poitiers, where he agreed to support him by prayer and penance in Hilary's fight against Arianism. (Earlier, Hilary had inveigled Martin into being ordained an exorcist.)
In a wild and lonely spot about five miles from Poitiers, St. Martin founded the first Gallic monastery at Ligugé (Logoteiacus). He remained at Ligugé from about 361 until about 370, when he was made Bishop of Tours after St. Lidorius died. (When Hilary had died in 368, Martin had managed to avoid being made bishop there.) Fittingly, Tours was the old Roman fortress town of Caesarodunum.
St. Martin of Tours worked many wonders in his life, even before he raised three people from the dead. In the Alps once, he was nearly killed by brigands—but he converted one of them to a blameless life. At Lerroux he kissed and healed a leper. Another time, at Martin's order, a deacon cast a small net to catch an enormous pike when they desperately needed food. And at Paris (Lutetia Parisiorum), as he was coming in from Treves by way of the North Gate, he found a beggar so far gone with leprosy that the crowd following St. Martin withdrew in horror. At the sight of this miserable creature, Martin was filled with compassion; he stopped, and embraced and blessed the leper. The hideous disease vanished instantly.
The Parisians, who were then considered proud, voluptuous and pleasure-mad sybarites, were converted. This took place at the old St. Martin's Gate (Porte St. Martin) opposite the Pont au Change.
At Chartres, already the seat of the see of Bishop Valentinus, St. Martin met Victricius, Archbishop of Rouen. At that time a father brought before them his 12-year-old daughter who had been mute from birth. Martin asked the other two bishops to cure the child, but they refused. So Martin sent the crowd away, except for the two prelates. He prayed, blessed oil, and poured a few drops into the girl's mouth, holding her tongue in his fingers. Then Martin asked the girl her father's name. She immediately uttered it. Her father sobbed, cried aloud with joy, and embraced Martin's knees. A stream of conversions followed.
St. Martin of Tours fought idolatry and the false gods worshiped by the countryside pagans. At Amboise on the Loire there was a tremendous tower of shaped and polished stones. It rose to a great height and culminated in a cone. Apparently it was the sanctuary of some warrior god. When some of St. Martin's monks, assigned to destroy it, did not have the courage to do so, Martin prayed and a terrific storm arose. It brought the tower down to its very foundations. The people got the message, forsook their god, and Martin built a church and parish there.
At Leprosum, after an initial repulse, he was encouraged by angels. He returned with his band, and while the pagans looked on, seemingly paralyzed, the monks reduced their idolatrous temple to rubble. Martin performed many other wonders, like "freezing" the progress of a pagan procession he thought was carrying an idol.
In considering St. Martin of Tours' three miracles of reviving the dead, keep in mind that Sulpicius gathered these accounts either from the accounts of witnesses or from his own personal observation. It will also help in understanding Martin's gifts during his lifetime to note that after Martin's death, Bishop Gregory of Tours filled four volumes with accounts of his posthumous miracles. And Gregory added that hundreds more had been omitted because many persons had left without informing him of their miracles. A register of these miracles was kept in the basilica at Tours.
Before St. Martin became bishop, while he was still at the monastery at Ligugé, a catechumen, one of his first companions there, was seized with faintness and a violent fever while Martin was away. When Martin returned after three days absence, he found the monk dead and the sorrowing brothers preparing his body for burial. St. Martin came weeping to the corpse of this early companion and friend.
Inspired by the Holy Ghost, he ordered the rest of his disciples out of the cell, barred the door and, like the prophet Eliseus, prayed over the corpse. Time passed. St. Martin lifted himself up and gazed on the face of the dead man with confidence in the mercy of God. Hardly two hours of persistent prayer had passed when, little by little, the limbs of the man's body began to stir. His eyes half opened, and he began blinking at the light.
Then St. Martin filled the cell with a loud shout of rejoicing and thanksgiving. The monks outside rushed in to see their confrere, whom they had been mourning as dead, alive once again. This man remained alive for years. He was the first to furnish tangible proof of St. Martin's miracles, and he used to relate what had happened to him when he was "stripped" of his body.
Here is the monk's account: When dead, he had been led to the tribunal of a judge; there he was sentenced to go with a vulgar crowd to a region of darkness. Then word was brought to the judge, by two angels, that this was the man for whom Martin was praying. The angels were then ordered to lead the man back, to restore him to Martin, and to reestablish him in his former life.
The second raising by St. Martin happened a little later. Martin was walking across the property of a certain high-ranking personage named Lupicinus. The saint heard grief-stricken cries; he noted a house nearby, and a sorrowful throng about it. Upon inquiring, he found out that a young slave had hanged himself.
St. Martin set about praying and acting as he had in the previous case. Life reanimated the slave's features, and he opened his eyes to look into the face of Martin. Then, grasping Martin's hand, the man slowly rose to his feet. With all looking on in awe, the young slave walked with Martin to the vestibule of the house.
Gheon, after recounting these two miracles, writes, "I have set down without comment the two spectacular miracles, for they belong to the written record and there is no reason to doubt them unless our eyes are sealed to the evidence when it concerns facts of the supernatural order."
The third miracle of the dead was even more spectacular. It occurred after St. Martin had been made a bishop. On a journey to the Beauce, to a large town (perhaps Vendôme), he found a vast throng of pagans approaching him; they covered the whole plain. (These sort of Gospel scenes were apparently common occurrences in the lives of the great missionary saints.) This multitude had heard of the saint's miracles and wonders. As one writer put it, Martin sensit operandum—he saw that it was the moment to act! At times a certain "vibrancy" sprang up within him, which he knew was from the Holy Ghost. As one moved with deep emotion, "in a voice beyond the human," the saint cried out loudly: "How can so great a crowd of souls not know the Lord our Saviour?"
Just then a woman thrust her way through the crowd; in her arms was the lifeless body of a child. She held the corpse out to Martin, crying: "You are God's friend, we know. Give me back my son! He is my only son!" No theologian could have expressed better the relationship between faith, God, His saint, and divine power!
The crowd heard. They saw the reasonableness of the woman's challenge. Martin knew that for the salvation of all these poor people God would not refuse him. He took the child into his arms, knelt down, and prayed. The multitude was silent, expectant. There was an electric feeling of great suspense. Martin finished his prayer, and then arose with a living child in his arms! He handed the child over to the mother.
The Lord had performed a miracle, through His chosen instrument, for the conversion of these precious pagan souls! The whole multitude proclaimed Christ as God! They came in groups and threw themselves at St. Martin's feet, demanding to be made Christians. Martin lost no time. Right there in the field, he laid his hands upon them and made them catechumens.
In the old liturgical books St. Martin of Tours had the designation, Trium mortuorum Suscitator, that is, "Raiser of Three Dead." He once observed wryly that he had raised two from the dead before becoming a bishop, but only one afterward.
Along with St. Hilary of Poitiers and St. Geneviève of Paris, both credited with raising the dead, St. Martin of Tours is one of the great patrons of France; he has also traditionally been beloved of Christian soldiers.