Memorial of Saint Thomas Becket, bishop and martyr

Readings: 2 Timothy 2:8-13; Ps 34:2-9; Matthew 16:24-27

Once again, on this Fifth Day of Christmas, we don red to commemorate a martyr. The martyr we commemorate today is not one from the pages of Sacred Scripture. Rather, one from the Middle Ages: Archbishop Thomas Becket.

Becket served as Archbishop of Canterbury. He was martyred in Canterbury Cathedral on the Fifth Day of Christmas in AD 1170. He had only returned from France, where he was exiled for seven years fleeing from the wrath of the English king, Henry II, earlier in December. As the film Becket, starring Peter O’Toole and Richard Burton, and T.S. Eliot’s verse-play Murder in the Cathedral depict, Becket was named Archbishop of Canterbury, then England’s primatial see, due his friendship with King Henry.

Because of the nature of his appointment, the king expected a compliant prelate, one who would bend the Church to his will. Already a deacon, upon being named archbishop he was ordained priest and consecrated bishop in rapid succession. Before and after his episcopal consecration, Becket served the king as Lord Chancellor. As Chancellor, he saw to it that income for the king was gathered from all landowners, including churches and bishoprics.

Much to King Henry’s surprise, Thomas took his call to holy orders and his consecration as a bishop quite seriously. Becket seems to have undergone a genuine conversion. As a result, he resisted the king and sought to reassert the Church’s rights, a reassertion that put him at odds with the monarch. This led Henry to issue the Constitutions of Clarendon.

The Constitutions sought to limit the Church’s independence and to weaken its connection to the Holy See. Henry, a formidable politician, succeeded in having the bishops of his realm agree to these. Becket, however, refused to sign. His refusal was the cause of his seven-year exile to France. His return at the beginning of December 1170 was risky.

All of this is so much history, albeit interesting and even important history in terms of the Church’s relationship to the state. Getting to the heart of the martyrdom of Becket and of martyrdom itself is what truly matters. Here is where the archbishop’s Christmas sermon from T.S. Eliot’s play is so wonderful.

Murder in the Cathedral consists of two parts. The first part is Becket’s return from France in early December. The second part takes place on 29 December, the day of his martyrdom in Canterbury Cathedral. Between the play’s two parts, Becket's Christmas sermon serves as an interlude. This brings us to our Gospel reading, in which Jesus teaches that forfeiting your soul for anything in the world or for everything in the world is the worst deal imaginable.

In his Christmas preaching, Becket seeks to set forth that the deep mystery of Christmas lies in both celebrating Christ’s birth while, at the same time, calling to mind his death. Linking the wood of the manger to the wood of the cross calls us to rejoice and mourn simultaneously. He notes that this tension, this paradox, can appear strange but that it is just this tension that makes Christian experience unique.

At the end of his sermon, Becket turns toward the attention of his listeners to martyrdom. He mentions that on the Second Day of Christmas, the Church celebrates the martyrdom of Stephen. Celebrating Stephen's martyrdom, he insists, evokes the tension between mourning and celebrating. This tension marks the true spirit of Christmas.

The archbishop goes on to insist that we shouldn’t think of martyrs merely as good Christians who’ve been murdered for being Christians. This would only be to mourn. Neither should martyrs be reduced to being Christians who’ve been “raised to the altar” by the Church This is only to rejoice. To do one of these at the expense of the other is to let go of the tension not only that our faith requires but that is the essence of Christian faith. He says, “and neither our mourning nor our rejoicing is as the world’s is.”

Becket sets forth a further tension, the tension between martyrs being “made by the design of God” and also being those who freely and totally submit to God’s will. His overarching point, then, is because of this paradox (i.e., the martyr both submits and is simultaneously submitted by God’s plan)—the way we celebrate them must match that complexity.

Thinking dualistically about martyrdom and Christian life fails to match our calling, our Christian vocation. In this regard, as Christians, we are not faced with a dilemma, either being a victim of God’s harsh will or recklessly embracing death, either celebrating the Paschal Mystery by mourning or by celebrating. Rather, in true Catholic fashion, we are invited to embrace the both/and. Frankly, this requires a lot from us.

Eliot puts this response on Thomas Becket’s lips, a reply that gets back to the complexity of the existential and metaphysical tension of martyrdom:

Now is my way clear, now is the meaning plain:

Temptation shall not come in this kind again.
The last temptation is the greatest treason:
To do the right deed for the wrong reason

Today’s memorial invites each of us to reflect on our own call to follow Jesus. You and I are asked to consider what temptations, what besetting sins, get in the way of either discerning God’s will for your life or doing God’s will with your life. "Martyr" simply means witness. Christian discipleship is nothing other than a call to bear witness to the birth, life, passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, allowing yourself to be fully immersed in the Paschal Mystery.