The Early Christian Concept of Sanctity: Martyrs and Confessors
In the earliest years of Christianity, the majority of those whom the Church honored as Saints were those who had witnessed to the Faith through martyrdom. The term “martyrs” comes from the Greek word for “witness.” By the late 2nd century, this term was so well known in the West as a Christian technical term that it was taken into Latin instead of being translated as “testis.”
Those who suffered for the Faith—by imprisonment or exile but not by death—were distinguished from martyrs by the term “confessores.” This Christian term, derived from the verb “confiteor” (to confess or acknowledge), marked a different kind of witness.
The Shift in Sanctity: Honoring the Virtuous
Once persecution ceased to be a regular feature of the Church’s life, the number of martyrs declined, and Christians began to recognize sanctity in the heroically virtuous lives of men and women. Although this shift is often said to have occurred later, it was already in place by the late 4th century. In 386, St. John Chrysostom, then a priest in Antioch, preached a sermon honoring St. Philogonius, the former bishop of Antioch who was not a martyr: “The day of the blessed Philogonius, whose feast we are now keeping, has called our speech to the telling of his righteous deeds.”
In the West, the term “confessor” came to mean any male Saint who was not a martyr. St. Gaudentius, a contemporary of Chrysostom and bishop of Brescia, used it in this sense when referring to St. Basil the Great.
St. Martin of Tours: A Confessor Honored in the West
Today, the Church celebrates St. Martin of Tours, born around 316 in the Roman province of Pannonia. He converted to Christianity as a teenager, served as a soldier, and eventually became a disciple of St. Hilary of Poitiers and a monk. In 371, he was drafted to serve as bishop of Tours, a role he fulfilled until his death in 397. St. Martin was among the first confessors in this newer sense of the term to be widely honored in the West, thanks to a biography written by his disciple, Sulpicius Severus.
In his third chapter, Sulpicius recounts a story from St. Martin’s soldiering days—a story that became one of the best-known episodes of his life and the subject of countless artworks.
“Quodam … tempore, cum jam nihil praeter arma et simplicem militiae vestem haberet, media hieme, quae solito asperior inhorruerat, … obvium habet in porta Ambianensium civitatis pauperem nudum: qui cum praetereuntes ut sui misererentur oraret omnesque miserum praeterirent, intellegit vir Deo plenus sibi illum, aliis misericordiam non praestantibus, reservari quid tamen ageret? nihil praeter chlamydem, qua indutus erat, habebat: iam enim reliqua in opus simile consumpserat. arrepto itaque ferro, quo accinctus erat, mediam dividit partemque eius pauperi tribuit, reliqua rursus induitur. … nocte igitur insecuta, cum se sopori dedisset, vidit Christum chlamydis suae, qua pauperem texerat, parte vestitum. … mox ad angelorum circumstantium multitudinem audit Iesum clara voce dicentem: “Martinus adhuc catechumenus hac me veste contexit.”
“… at a certain period, when he had nothing except his arms and his simple military dress, in the middle of a winter which had grown more severe than usual …, at the gate of Amiens he met a poor and naked man, whom as he entreated the passers-by to have compassion upon him, all passed by in his wretchedness; and whom Martin, as a man full of God, understood to be left for himself, since others showed no pity. But what might he do? He had nothing but the cloak in which he was clad, for he had already given away all his other garments. Therefore, taking the sword with which he was girt, he divided his cloak in two, and gave one part to the poor man, and clothed himself with the remainder. The following night, when Martin had gone to sleep, he saw Christ covered in that part of his cloak with which he had clothed the poor man. … Soon after, he heard Jesus saying with a clear voice to a multitude of angels standing round, “Martin, who is still a catechumen, clothed me with this robe.”
In this passage, Sulpicius uses the Greek word “chlamys” for “cloak,” a term already common in Latin during Plautus’ time. In the early Middle Ages, “chlamys” was often replaced by “cappa,” related to English words like “cape,” “cap,” and “cope” (the liturgical vestment).
The Legacy of St. Martin’s Cloak: From “Cappa” to “Cappella”
Although it may sound like a folk etymology, the Latin word “cappella” (chapel) actually derives from “cappa,” referring to a relic of St. Martin’s cloak. According to the Catholic Encyclopedia:
“This cape, or its representative, was afterwards preserved as a relic and accompanied the Frankish kings in their wars, and the tent which sheltered it became known also as cappella or capella. In this tent, Mass was celebrated by the military chaplains (capellani). When at rest in the palace, the relic likewise gave its name to the oratory where it was kept, and subsequently any oratory where Mass and Divine service were celebrated was called capella (in Latin), chapelle (in French), chapel.”
The Oxford English Dictionary, in its entry on “chapel,” cites an anonymous life of Charlemagne: “Quo nomine Francorum reges propter capam St. Martini sancta sua appellare solebant. – And by this name, the kings of the Franks were wont to call their holy places, because of the cloak of St Martin.”
