Memorial of St. Martin of Tours, Bishop

Brief Background:

St. Martin was born in Pannonia (modern-day Hungary) and raised in a pagan family, though he felt drawn to Christianity from an early age. As a young man he was conscripted into the Roman army. One cold winter day, while still a soldier, Martin met a beggar shivering by the city gate of Amiens. Moved with compassion, he drew his sword, cut his military cloak in half, and shared it with the poor man. That night, Christ appeared to him in a dream wearing the same piece of cloak, saying, “Martin, you have clothed me with this garment.”

Deeply changed by this experience, Martin sought baptism, left military service, and dedicated his life to God. He became a monk and later the Bishop of Tours in France, known for his humility, simplicity, and care for the poor. He died around the year 397 and is one of the first non-martyr saints honored by the Church.

St. Martin is the patron saint of soldiers, tailors, and the poor, and his feast day is celebrated on November 11 — also Veterans Day in the United States.



REFLECTION:

In the beginning, God created humanity to live forever — to share in His own divine life. As the Book of Wisdom reminds us, “God created man for incorruption and made him in the image of His own eternity.” But then came an interruption. “Through the envy of the devil, death entered the world.” The devil could not bear to see humanity living in harmony with God, so he interrupted God’s plan, twisting what was meant for goodness and love. From that moment, sin and death became part of the human story. Yet, even in that brokenness, God’s plan was never destroyed — only delayed. For the same passage tells us, “The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them.”

To be just means to live rightly before God — to seek what is true, good, and faithful in all things. The just person allows God, not sin or fear, to guide their actions. Even when life is interrupted — by sorrow, illness, or disappointment — their peace remains because it is anchored in God’s will. The devil may interrupt, but he can never overpower the one who stays close to the Lord. The souls of the just live in a security that no evil can reach, held firmly in the palm of God’s hand.

In our own lives, interruptions happen all the time. A child calls for attention when we’re busy, a family member needs help when we’re tired, a student lingers after class, a friend reaches out unexpectedly, or a stranger stops us with a story we didn’t expect to hear. These moments may seem inconvenient at first, but they can also be sacred interruptions — God’s gentle way of turning our eyes back to Him. Every interruption carries the possibility of grace: an invitation to step out of our routine and enter a holy moment. When we pause to listen, to help, or simply to be present, we allow God to work through us. Interruptions, if embraced with love, can become opportunities to do good and to rediscover His presence in the ordinary flow of life.

This truth shines clearly in the life of St. Martin of Tours, a soldier whose life was transformed by an interruption of compassion. One cold winter day, he encountered a poor beggar shivering on the roadside. Without hesitation, Martin took his sword, cut his cloak in half, and shared it with the man. That night, Christ appeared to him in a dream wearing that same torn cloak, saying, “Martin, you have clothed me.” That single interruption became the turning point of Martin’s life. He left the army, dedicated himself to prayer and service, and became a bishop known for his humility and mercy. His holiness began not in a grand gesture, but in one simple moment when he allowed an interruption to become an encounter with Christ.

As we observe Veterans Day, we honor the men and women who, like St. Martin, allowed their lives to be interrupted by duty, service, and sacrifice. Many of them left behind comfort, safety, and family to protect and serve others. Their courage reminds us that even life’s greatest interruptions can reveal the depth of one’s character and love. In their service, we glimpse the power of a just and selfless heart — one that chooses good even when the path is difficult.

So when your own plans are interrupted, let faith interrupt your frustration. See these moments not as burdens, but as blessings — chances to pause, to listen, to serve, to love. The devil may have interrupted God’s plan in the beginning, but in Christ, every interruption can now become an invitation to grace. For those who strive to live justly, who choose compassion over convenience, and who trust in God’s timing, there is peace that cannot be taken away. Truly, “the souls of the just are in the hand of God,” and in those hands, even life’s interruptions become instruments of His mercy.