This observance appears in the catholic calendar with liturgical color white .
Saint Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, is revered as a martyr who courageously defended the Church's independence against royal interference in 12th-century England.
Saint Thomas Becket served as the Archbishop of Canterbury during the 12th century, initially a close confidant and Chancellor to King Henry II. His life took a dramatic turn when, upon his appointment as Archbishop, he became a staunch defender of ecclesiastical rights and liberties, clashing fiercely with the king over the jurisdiction of Church courts and the autonomy of the clergy. His unwavering commitment to the Church's freedom led to his exile and, ultimately, his tragic martyrdom on December 29, 1170, when he was brutally murdered within Canterbury Cathedral by knights loyal to the king. Becket's sacrifice cemented his legacy as a powerful symbol of spiritual authority resisting temporal power, inspiring countless faithful and solidifying the principle of the Church's distinct sphere of influence.
Thomas Becket was born in Cheapside, London, around 1118, to a prosperous merchant family of Norman descent. His early life was marked by a comprehensive education, including studies at Merton Priory, London, and later in Paris, which prepared him for a life of service. He began his distinguished career as a clerk in the household of Theobald of Bec, the then-Archbishop of Canterbury. Becket's sharp intellect, exceptional administrative capabilities, and engaging personality quickly drew Theobald's notice, leading to his rapid advancement within the ecclesiastical hierarchy. He undertook various important missions, including diplomatic trips to Rome, where he acquired invaluable experience in canon law and the intricate workings of Church administration, skills that would prove crucial in his later life. It was through Archbishop Theobald’s high recommendation that Becket was introduced to the young and ambitious King Henry II, setting the stage for a dramatic and ultimately tragic relationship.
In 1154, Thomas Becket was appointed Archdeacon of Canterbury, a significant ecclesiastical post. The following year, King Henry II, keenly recognizing Becket's extraordinary talents and efficiency, elevated him to the powerful position of Lord Chancellor. This appointment marked the genesis of a remarkably close, albeit eventually fraught, friendship between the two men. As Chancellor, Becket proved himself an exceptionally loyal and highly effective servant of the Crown. He meticulously managed the king's finances, commanded troops in battle, and even participated in military campaigns, exhibiting a lavish lifestyle and a decidedly secular orientation that seemed far removed from the expected austerity of a cleric. During this period, he was instrumental in strengthening the royal administration and consolidating the king's authority, often at the expense of the Church's traditional liberties, a stance that would undergo a profound reversal in the years to come.
The pivotal and transformative moment in Becket's life arrived in 1162, following the death of Archbishop Theobald. King Henry II, firmly believing that Becket would continue to be a pliant instrument of royal policy and a loyal ally in his efforts to assert royal control over the Church, insisted upon his election as the new Archbishop of Canterbury. Despite Becket's initial reluctance and his prophetic warnings to the king about a potential conflict of loyalties, he was ordained a priest on June 2, 1162, and consecrated bishop the very next day. Immediately following his elevation, a profound and astonishing transformation occurred within Becket. He promptly resigned his chancellorship, adopted an austere and ascetic lifestyle, and began to champion the rights and independence of the Church with an unwavering zeal that utterly astonished and deeply infuriated the king. Becket now perceived his new role not as a royal appointee, but as a spiritual leader bound first and foremost to God and the Holy See.
The fundamental conflict that erupted between Archbishop Becket and King Henry II centered primarily on the jurisdiction of ecclesiastical courts and the ancient liberties and immunities of the Church. Henry sought to bring all clergy, including those accused of secular crimes, under the direct jurisdiction of royal courts, a radical move that was formally codified in the
The chill of December 29, 1170, clung to the ancient stones of Canterbury Cathedral. Vespers had just concluded, and Archbishop Thomas Becket, weary from years of exile and conflict, was making his way through the cloister to the archbishop's palace. Suddenly, four knights, Reginald FitzUrse, Hugh de Morville, William de Tracy, and Richard le Breton, burst into the cathedral, their drawn swords glinting ominously in the fading light. They were emissaries of King Henry II, inflamed by the king's frustrated cry, "Will no one rid me of this troublesome priest?"
They found Becket in a transept, preparing for supper. "Where is the traitor, Thomas Becket?" one knight bellowed. Thomas, ever composed, stepped forward. "Here I am, no traitor, but a priest of God," he replied with steady voice. The knights demanded that he absolve the bishops he had excommunicated and submit fully to the king's will. Becket refused, asserting the rights and liberties of the Church. "I am ready to die for my Lord," he declared, "that in my blood the Church may obtain liberty and peace." His clear refusal, his unwavering stance, only fueled their rage.
His monks, terrified, tried to drag him away, urging him to flee to the sanctuary of the altar. But Becket stood firm, pushing them back. "Away, you cowards! Let those who wish to die for Christ stand fast with me!" he commanded. He knew his hour had come. As the knights advanced, swords raised, he knelt, commending his soul to God, to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and to Saint Denis. The first blow struck him, glancing off his head. Another followed, and then a third, felling him to the ground. Richard le Breton delivered the fatal blow, splitting his skull. As he lay dying, his last audible words were, "For the Name of Jesus and the protection of the Church, I am ready to embrace death."
The knights, having committed their heinous act, fled, leaving the cathedral stained with the blood of a martyr. But his death was not an end; it was a powerful beginning. News of the archbishop's brutal murder spread like wildfire across Christendom, shocking Europe and galvanizing support for the Church's independence. Thomas Becket, once a worldly chancellor, had become a spiritual warrior, his martyrdom transforming him into a revered saint whose ultimate sacrifice underscored the enduring struggle between temporal power and spiritual authority, ensuring his place forever in the annals of Christian faith.
c. 1166-1167
To his most glorious lord, Henry, by the grace of God, King of the English, Duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, Count of Anjou, Thomas, by the same grace, Archbishop of Canterbury, legate of the Apostolic See, wishes peace and salvation in the Lord.
How much and how often, my lord, I have sought and still seek your good and your honour, God knows, who is the searcher of hearts. And the things which I have done, and by the grace of God, intend to do, are directed to this end: that the Church of God, which is in your kingdom, may enjoy its liberty, and that you, by God's grace, may reign in peace and prosperity for a long time. For this, I am prepared to endure all things, even death itself, if God so wills it.
You know, my lord, that when I was called to the government of the Church of Canterbury, I found it troubled and vexed by many injuries, and that the things which were of God were trodden under foot by the violence of secular power. And because I ought to be faithful to God and to you, I could not conceal these things from you, nor could I patiently endure them. For it is written, 'Cursed is he who does the work of the Lord negligently.' And again, 'If the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet, and the people are not warned, and the sword comes and takes away a person from among them, he is taken away in his iniquity, but his blood I will require from the watchman's hand.'
Therefore, my lord, I have often, both in person and by messengers, humbly and devotedly admonished you concerning the honour of God and the liberty of the Church, and concerning your salvation. And because I have not been heard, I have been compelled to appeal to the Apostolic See, and to put myself and the Church of God, which is in your kingdom, under the protection of the Holy Roman Church.
And now, my lord, I beseech you, by the mercy of God, and for the sake of your salvation, and for the honour of God's Church, that you will consider the dangers which threaten you and your kingdom, and that you will restore to the Church of Canterbury and to me, the things which you have taken away, and that you will permit me and mine to return in peace. For you know, my lord, that it is not lawful for you to hold the possessions of the Church, nor to disturb its peace, nor to oppress its liberty.
Remember, my lord, the day when you received the kingdom, and the oath which you swore to God, that you would protect the Church and its ministers, and that you would maintain justice and equity throughout your realm. And now, behold, the Church is oppressed, its ministers are afflicted, and justice is perverted.
Consider also, my lord, that God is the avenger of those who oppress His Church, and that He will not suffer His elect to be trampled under foot. For it is written, 'Touch not my anointed ones, and do my prophets no harm.' And again, 'He who touches you touches the apple of His eye.'
I pray you, my lord, that you will not despise my words, nor harden your heart against the Lord. For if you do, God will surely visit you with a heavy hand, and He will take away your kingdom from you, and give it to another who will do His will. But if you will hearken to my voice, and will restore to the Church its liberty, and to me and mine our peace, then God will bless you and your kingdom, and He will establish your throne for ever.
I commend you and your kingdom to God, and to the protection of the Blessed Peter, Prince of the Apostles, and of the Holy Roman Church. Farewell.
Late 12th Century (shortly after 1170)
Meanwhile, the monks, terrified by the armed men, had burst into the church, and were closing the doors, when the archbishop cried aloud: 'Away, you cowards! By the obedience you owe to God, I command you not to shut the door; the church must not be turned into a castle.' Soon after, the four knights, with others following them, entered the church, with a furious and threatening air, and with swords drawn. They were heard to say: 'Where is Thomas Becket, traitor to the king and kingdom?' To which the archbishop, turning towards them, replied: 'I am here, no traitor to the king, but a priest.' And when they had rushed up to him, and had dragged him roughly by the robe, and said: 'Fly, you are a dead man!' he replied: 'I will not fly, nor will I move from this place.'
Then they tried to drag him out of the church, but he clung to a pillar, and resisted with all his might. Then Reginald FitzUrse, with his drawn sword, struck him on the head, but the blow was warded off by the arm of the archbishop, which was raised to protect his head, and it struck him on the shoulder, and wounded him slightly. Then Hugh de Morville struck him on the head, but the blow was not fatal. Then William de Tracy struck him on the head with such force that the blood flowed down his face. Then Richard le Breton struck him on the head with such violence that the sword broke on the pavement, and his brains, with the blood, gushed out upon the floor.
At the fourth blow, he fell to the ground, on his face, before the altar of St. Benedict, and stretching out his hands, he said: 'For the Name of Jesus and the protection of the Church, I am ready to embrace death.' And then, drawing his feet together, and covering himself with his cloak, he received his end, and died in peace.
The knights, having completed their wicked deed, rushed out of the church, crying aloud: 'The king's men! The king's men!' And they rode off, leaving the archbishop lying dead on the pavement.
Then the monks, who had been hiding in terror, came forth, and found the archbishop lying dead, and they lifted him up, and carried him into the crypt, and laid him before the altar of St. Augustine. And they found that he had worn a hair shirt next to his skin, and that it was full of lice, which caused them to marvel at his great humility and penitence.
Pilgrimages to Canterbury Cathedral, visiting the site of his martyrdom and his former shrine.
Following his martyrdom in Canterbury Cathedral, his tomb became one of the most important pilgrimage sites in medieval Europe, attracting pilgrims seeking healing and spiritual intercession. This tradition continued for centuries until the destruction of his shrine during the Reformation, though the site remains significant for visitors today.