Christ Appears to Martin

So at one time, when he had nothing but his weapons and his plain soldier’s clothing, in the middle of a winter that had proved harsher than usual, so that the extreme cold was killing many people, he happened to meet a poor man with no clothes at the gate of the city of Amiens. The man was begging those who passed by to have pity on him, but they all went past the wretched man without notice. Then Martin, that man full of God, understood that since the others showed him no pity, this man had been left to him. Yet what was he to do? He had nothing but the cloak he was wearing, for he had already given away the rest of his clothing for similar purposes. So he took the sword he wore at his side, cut his cloak into two equal halves, gave one half to the poor man, and wrapped himself again in what was left. At this some of the bystanders laughed, because he now looked a sorry sight, standing there only half dressed. But many who had more sense groaned deeply because they themselves had done nothing of the kind. They felt this all the more because, having more than Martin, they could have clothed the poor man without stripping themselves bare. [a]

The following night, when Martin had given himself up to sleep, he saw a vision of Christ dressed in the part of his cloak with which he had clothed the poor man. He looked at the Lord with the closest attention, and was told to recognize as his own the garment he had given. Soon he heard Jesus saying in a clear voice to the multitude of angels standing around: “Martin, who is still only a catechumen, clothed me with this garment.” The Lord, truly mindful of his own words, for he had said while on earth, “In so far as you have done these things to one of the least of these, you have done them to me,” declared that he himself had been clothed in that poor man. And to confirm the witness he bore to so good a deed, he graciously showed himself to Martin in the very clothing the poor man had received.

After this vision the holy man was not puffed up with human glory. Instead he acknowledged God’s goodness in what had happened, and being now twenty years old, he hurried to be baptized. He did not, however, leave military service at once. He gave way to the pleas of his tribune, whom he had admitted as his close companion, sharing his tent; for the tribune promised that when his term of office was over, he too would withdraw from the world. Held back by the expectation of this, Martin went on playing the part of a soldier, though only in name, for nearly two years after he was baptized.