Just before Communion at each Mass, the priest elevates the host and speaks words that recall the Book of Revelation: “Behold the Lamb of God, behold him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb.” No matter where we’re headed after Mass, this is the greatest feast we can ever hope to partake of. No wedding, gala or banquet can outdo the splendor of this supper. It is set apart for its beauty and majesty, and even more wonderfully for the fact that every single person is invited to it, regardless of birth, status, where he’s been, or what he’s done. This unconditional love is the love of Christ.
A 16th-century Peruvian saint lived this love even when others didn’t extend it to him. Born out of wedlock to a Spanish nobleman and a freed slave, St. Martin de Porres was generous, prayerful and humble from a young age, but his mixed-race background was an obstacle to his joining the Dominican monastery in Lima. Initially he was only allowed to serve at the monastery as a volunteer. However, over time, his diligence, devotion and medical skills so impressed the friars that he was encouraged to take vows as a Third Order Dominican.
Seeing as God sees
St. Martin was gifted with aerial flight, bilocation, instant cures, miraculous knowledge and a deep connection with animals. As amazing as these gifts are, what deeply moved those who knew him was his willingness to tend to those in need no matter their ancestry, how much money they had or how sick they were. He didn’t see others through the lens of this world, filtering some out for position and others for the color of their skin. Rather, he viewed all those he encountered, without exception, as children of God, and he welcomed the opportunity to love them.
On the whole, contemporary society doesn’t encourage the gentleness or patience Martin practiced throughout his life. Then again, many of the people in Martin’s day didn’t either, which he knew firsthand. Even in the monastery, people looked down on him for the circumstances of his birth. Martin could have chosen to be bitter and resentful. He could have chosen not to stay. Instead, he chose the sweetness of a life with Christ. He spent the majority of his life working in the monastery’s infirmary, tending to the bodies and souls of those in his care.
Loving unconditionally
Martin’s miracles were well known by the end of his life, and they continued after his death. Twenty-five years after he died, his body was exhumed. Not only was he found to be incorrupt, but when the corpse was uncovered, a sweet fragrance filled the air as a sign of God’s grace on his holy man.
As much as many of us would love to be able to bilocate, what’s more likely within reach is the unconditional love of St. Martin de Porres, which is really, of course, the unconditional love of God. Social, political and economic hierarchies insist that some people are more valuable than others, that some are more welcome at the table. The truth is that each person is made in the image and likeness of God, and everyone is offered a prime seat at his table. The more we can live that out in the way we encounter others, the more we will experience life as a feast.
