Optional Memorial of Saint Polycarp, bishop and martyr

Brief Background:

Saint Polycarp was a second-century bishop of Smyrna (modern-day Izmir, Turkey) and is counted among the Apostolic Fathers, the early Christian leaders who were closely connected to the Apostles themselves. According to tradition, he was a disciple of St. John the Apostle, which places him within one generation of those who personally knew Christ. Polycarp is most remembered for his courageous martyrdom around the year 155 AD. When pressured by Roman authorities to deny Jesus and save his life, he refused, declaring that after serving Christ for eighty-six years, he could not betray his King. He was burned at the stake and ultimately killed for his unwavering faith. His feast day is celebrated on February 23. Saint Polycarp is considered the patron of Smyrna and is traditionally invoked for those suffering from earaches. Above all, he is remembered as a model of steadfast faith, perseverance, and public witness to Christ, reminding believers that fidelity to the Gospel sometimes requires great courage.

REFLECTION:

Growing up on a small island, in a small village, there was almost no such thing as privacy. Everyone knew you. Your last name immediately connected you to a particular family. And if you did something wrong on one side of the village, the other side would hear about it before you even made it home.

At the time, it felt restrictive. But now I see it differently. Life there taught me something important: we never live in isolation. Our actions ripple outward. They affect more than just ourselves.

Maybe that is why I often say that being a Christian is never a private matter. What we do, how we speak, how we treat others — it always comes back to the Church, to the community. When you are baptized, you don’t just gain a personal belief system. You become part of a Body. You become, in a sense, a public person.

This is exactly what we hear in Leviticus 19: “Be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy.”

And what follows that command is striking. God does not immediately speak about private prayer or hidden sacrifices. Instead, He speaks about relationships.

Do not steal. Do not lie. Do not hold hatred in your heart. Do not seek revenge. Love your neighbor as yourself. Holiness is not isolation. Holiness is relational.

God was forming Israel into a people after freeing them from slavery. Slavery dehumanizes; holiness restores dignity. To be holy is to reflect God’s character in how we live together. You cannot claim holiness while gossiping. You cannot claim holiness while holding grudges. You cannot claim holiness while ignoring injustice. Holiness shows up in how we treat one another.

And notice — God goes deeper than behavior. He says, “Do not hate your brother in your heart.” Holiness is not just about what we do; it is about what we carry inside. Resentment, bitterness, silent anger — these poison community long before they become visible actions.

That is why Jesus Christ later lifts up this very teaching and says, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Not just tolerate. Not just avoid conflict. Love.

In a small village, your life reflects on your family. In the Church, your life reflects on Christ. We belong to something bigger than ourselves. Our words either build communion or fracture it. Our choices either make the community holy or weaken it.

Holiness, then, is communal. It is lived in staff meetings, in classrooms, in parish councils, at family dinners, in how we speak about someone who is not present. It is choosing reconciliation over revenge, honesty over convenience, mercy over pride.

We do not grow holy alone. We grow holy together.

When we love well, forgive quickly, correct gently, and protect the dignity of others, the community itself becomes holy ground. And perhaps that small island lesson was preparing me for this truth all along:

Our lives are never just our own. And holiness is something we practice — together.