It’s Veteran’s Day in the US, Remembrance Day in Britain, when we honor those who died in the First World War, which ended on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month over a century ago in 1918 with the signing of an Armistice.
But it is also the feast of St. Martin of Tours (315-397), according to the Roman Catholic, Anglican, and Lutheran traditions.
One of the first places I went on my first visit to Paris in 2006 was the Musée de Cluny, a small, exquisite Medieval museum housed in what at one time was the residence of the Abbots of Cluny, and sited over one of the few remaining Roman ruins in Paris. It is a cross-section of ancient, medieval, and Renaissance history. It’s surrounded by a public garden with benches along the walkways, and at noon the benches are filled with people from nearby offices, eating their lunches. A small dark room within holds a collection of stained glass window panels, donated by churches and abbeys around France when repairs or replacements left them no place in their original home.
One of the windows from the Abbey of Gercy in northern France shows three episodes from the life of St. Martin: in one, he cuts his cloak in half to share with a beggar; in another he commands a tree to fall to one side, avoiding an attempted execution by his enemies; and in the third, Christ welcomes him into heaven.
The first window fascinates me. St. Martin is on his horse, wielding a large sword to cut his cloak in half. The far end of the cloak is flung over the horse’s head, and the beggar, barefoot and nearly naked, is reaching for it from the dark shelter of a narrow doorway. The deep blue glass behind the white horse emphasizes the cold of the winter’s night.
It is an act of generosity that challenges us. It is easy to share out of abundance, to give away what we do not need or cannot use. But to give away half of what we have, and could use, or even need….that’s a lot harder. Every time I’ve visited the Cluny, I’ve stood in front this window, slightly uncomfortable, aware of how reluctant I am to share my own cloak.