Homily

The English word "saint" comes from the Latin word for holy, "Sanctus." So saints are the holy ones. In the N.T., Christians in general, while still living, are called saints because of the divine life each believer carries within themselves, but gradually the term came to have a more restricted meaning and was only for martyrs or for those who died after living lives of great virtue. It is our vocation, our calling from baptism to become, to grow into being saints, holy people, sons and daughters of God. There are, in fact, two kinds of saints: those who have their faces on icons, in other words those who are declared to be so virtuous that it is certain they are in heaven, and the other kind of saints are those who may not have lived such extraordinary and holy lives, but still were found worthy enough, by the mercy of Christ, to enter into heavenly glory. Hopefully we have many relatives who were granted that gift, and we celebrate those ones today on All Saints Day.

I was very interested in a story that I had never heard before, and it was about the martyrs of Otranto, Italy who were formally canonized this past week by Pope Francis, although they were already considered saints for over 500 years.

On May 2, in the year of 1453, the great capital city of the Byzantine Empire was finally captured by the Sultan Mehmet II, leader of the Ottoman Turks. Soon after that Mehmet began to turn his army towards the west and was able to overtake territories in the Balkan mountain range. Since he had taken New Rome, it was Mehmet's desire to also capture Old Rome and all of Europe, making him a ruler of a super-kingdom. The Turks had been fighting battles with Venice off and on for some years, but finally the powerful Italian city state signed a peace treaty with the Turks, which left the door to eastern Italy open. In 1480 a huge fleet of war ships and boats holding over 18,000 men set out to conquer the coastal city of Brindisi, but bad weather forced them to land 50 miles south in Otranto in the S.E. part of Italy.

On July 29th, 1480, the city guards saw the Turkish fleet heading for shore. The castle at Otranto had no cannons and limited supplies of food and water. So if you could not defeat a superior army, you might be able to hold out in the castle and hope reinforcements would come. But if you were not well supplied, you would eventually be forced to surrender. And there was another element to consider. The longer you held, the harsher the terms of surrender would become. If a city or castle had to be taken by force, horrible violence often resulted. It might be wiser to surrender early and save lives. The people of Otranto would have been aware of what had happened at Constantinople a few decades earlier. After the Turks finally broke through the city walls, they found a huge number of people praying in the great church of Hagia Sophia. The infants and the elderly were killed. The men were sent off to the slave markets. The women and girls were taken to be used by the soldiers, or sold off as slaves. The Italians knew what could happen to them.

The Turkish general Pasha Ahmet, told the people of Otranto that if they surrendered their lives would be spared, but the people refused even though they had less than 50 professional soldiers in the castle. The Turks battered the walls of the fort for two weeks and finally gained entrance, killing anyone in their path. They went into the cathedral where people were praying and demanded that Archbishop Stefano Agricoli tear off his cross, renounce Christ and embrace Islam. When he refused he was beheaded in front of the whole congregation. Bishop Stephan Pendinelli and Count Largo also refused to renounce Christ and they were sawn in half. All the clergy were killed, the church desecrated and turned into a stable for the horses.

The surviving people of the city were gathered up. Once again, the men over 50 were killed. Women and children under 15 years of age would be sent into slavery in Albania. The rest of the men, about 800 were brought before the general, Pasha Ahmet, who told them they had one chance to live, and that was to convert to Islam, or else they would be killed. An apostate Italian priest told the men they should convert to Islam and keep their lives and they would be rewarded by the Turks.

One of the men, a tailor named Antonio Primaldi, stepped forward and said he was ready to die for Christ a thousand times. One man later recorded his words, "My brothers, until today we have fought to defend our Country, to save our lives, and for our lords; now it is time that we fight to save our souls for our Lord, so that having died on the cross for us, it is good that we should die for Him, standing firm and constant in the faith, and with this earthly death we shall win eternal life and the glory of martyrs." All the men of Otranto cried out in agreement.

The next day all 800 were led up to the hill of Minerva and one by one their heads were cut off while the remaining townspeople were forced to watch. Their bodies were thrown in a mass grave.

Over the next year, after many battles were fought, finally the Turks gave up their Italian campaign and Otranto was taken back. The bones of the martyrs were gathered up and taken to the cathedral. You can see a picture of them on the Catholic World Report website, their bones visible behind and on each side of the altar stacked from floor to ceiling 20-30 feet high. These bones of real people witness to their real faith in Jesus Christ. They could have saved their lives, but they would have lost their Lord. Certainly there must have been at least a few who renounced their faith, as did the apostate priest the Turks brought with them. But in my mind's eye, I can see them kneeling on the top of the hill, in the sight of their wives and children and mothers, each one in turn, waiting, one by one. Each man at any time can change his mind, but one, after another, after another they will not live without Christ. An of course, it makes me think, "What would I have done?" and there is no way to know for certain what I would have done. And, of course, it also makes me think about how well I am living for Christ right now. How often do I avoid His commandments, turn away from His grace, speak and think and act not as a Christian but just as any person might do, not as someone who is called to be a saint. I see the pictures of the skulls of the martyrs stacked up in the cathedral in Otranto and they seem to be speaking to me: "We freely made our choice and it cost us our lives. You have your life—what choices do you freely make?"