August 10, Feast of Saint Lawrence Martyr

"Through his intercession, grant that, set ablaze by the Holy Spirit, we may overcome the flames of passions and be consumed by the true fire of holiness."

Toledo Liturgy for the Feast of Saint Lawrence

Saint Lawrence of Rome was a Christian martyr of the 3rd century. A deacon and friend of Pope Sixtus II, he was condemned to die on the grill because he refused to give the riches of the Church to Roman pagans. It is for his love of Christ and his trust that he is celebrated on August 10 .

Origin of the feast of Saint Lawrence Martyr

Through his life and martyrdom, Saint Lawrence embodies the values of the Church: fidelity, charity and courage in the face of injustice. He is an emblematic figure of the Christian faith, venerated in both East and West as one of the most famous Roman martyrs.

In fact, his cult really began in the Middle Ages (around 320), his feast day being established just after that of saints Peter and Paul . Along with the apostles, he was one of Rome's patron saints .

On this feast day, a solemn prayer vigil was organized. In the 6th century, the Leonian Sacramentary (a collection of liturgical prayers dating from the 5th century and copied in the 6th century) indicates that twelve masses  were dedicated to St. Lawrence: one for the vigil and one for the octave. It soon became customary to say two masses on August 10, one in St. Laurent-hors-les-Murs and one in the great Vatican basilica of the time (a building that stood roughly on the site of today's St. Peter's Basilica).

Since the Middle Ages, thirty-four churches have been dedicated to him in Rome, including that of Pope St. Damasus, now called San Lorenzo in Damaso.

Prayer for the feast of Saint Lawrence

"Beloved Jesus, blessed fruit of Mary's virginal womb! We thank you from the bottom of our hearts that, by your incarnation, you deigned to be this wonderful grain of wheat, and to die such a bitter death for the work of our eternal salvation. May we acknowledge so great a grace, devote ourselves gratefully to your service, and, by our conduct, follow in your footsteps, as so many thousands of martyrs have done, and in particular Saint Lawrence, who, by joyfully enduring the appalling torments of the fiery grill on which he was laid, glorified your name and had it blessed by all the earth. Grant us at least the grace to endure with the same patience, the adversities you see fit to send our way; and make us serve you in such a way that, always, here and in the other world, we remain united with you, and deserve to be honored by your heavenly Father as your true servants. So be it."

The Hymn at First Vespers for the Feast of Saint Lawrence

"Where are you going, Holy Pontiff? Where are you running, tender Father? 

Will you sacrifice without me today? 

Do you offer without a minister? Hey! What are you trying to do? 

Can't I follow you and die with you? 

He who, by your command, at the heavenly table, 

Took and dispensed the Redeemer's blood, 

Impelled by a holy zeal, to thy like zeal, 

Will he never offer his own to his Saviour? 

God hears you, Laurent: yes, his order calls you

To more glorious and greater battles. 

Worthy Son of such a Father, and having Him for Model, 

You'll soon follow and surpass him. 

Faithful and sure guardian of the Church's treasures, 

Of offerings and vows consecrated to the Lord, 

You've already saved them from the unjust enterprise

Of the greedy tyrant their cruel captor. 

Let him use prayer and threats with purpose, 

Let him be inflexible, or seem more humane, 

Despite all his efforts, whatever he dares or does, 

You guarantee them from his profane hand. 

Of widows and paupers the favorite troop, 

Entrusted to your care, presents itself to his eyes: 

Here, you say, is the elite of the Faithful, 

Through whom I brought all these treasures to Heaven. 

To the Father, Creator of all that breathes, 

Glory in Heaven, on Earth, in every place; 

Glory to the Son his equal, who holds the same Empire; 

Even Glory to the Spirit, with them same God." 

The Hymn at Matins for the Feast of Saint Lawrence

"In vain are chains spread before your eyes, 

The whips armed with lead, the grill all aflame, 

A thousand and one instruments of the cruellest discomfort, 

Your big heart, holy martyr, is not alarmed. 

You see the whole apparatus of the most dreadful torture, 

With a serene face, a steady eye: 

Impatient to offer such a beautiful sacrifice, 

You hasten the slow torment that awaits you. 

Thy flesh with a thousand blows is already torn; 

Your skin, torn to shreds, no longer fits your body: 

The lonely trunk of dismembered flesh, 

Of impotent executioners, wearies all efforts. 

In a broken body, your magnanimous virtue

Keeps your mind and heart whole; 

And in a bath of blood you wash the victim, 

That the flames must still purify. 

To the Father, Creator of all that breathes, 

Glory in Heaven, on Earth, in every place; 

Glory to the Son his equal, who holds the same Empire; 

Even Glory to the Spirit, with them same God." 

The Hymn at Lauds and Second Vespers for the Feast of St. Lawrence

"No, you haven't tested enough the constancy

Of a martyr for his God so worthy to suffer: 

This is but a prelude, a trial of suffering. 

Go on, tyrant; go on: cruel, make him die. 

On flaming iron, on burning embers, 

His body, that shapeless trunk, lies at last: 

He triumphs to see his flesh all smoking, 

And with joy applauds his spilt blood. 

In his roasted limbs, the fire makes a passage, 

Carrying to the nerves the keenest pain: 

But God, whose presence and hand relieves him, 

By the waters of His Grace tempers its ardour. 

While this holy body dissolves and flames, 

His heart with another fire burns purer; 

And this all-divine fire, which transports his soul, 

From the fire that penetrates, extinguishes the feeling. 

On a fiery grill his flesh is consumed: 

The inhuman executioners shudder in horror, 

But from his dying body, the fragrant smoke, 

Rises like incense pleasing to the Lord. 

On his brazier, as on a bed of roses, 

The intrepid martyr seems to sleep in peace. 

O proud tyrant, he says, who disposes of my body, 

Turn, if you will, this body, and feast on it! 

O victim of love! By the purified flame, 

Thou now dost enjoy the Eternal Rest: 

Let the sacred fire with which you were imbued 

Blaze also our hearts, and penetrate our bones. 

To the Father, Creator of all that breathes, 

Glory in Heaven, on Earth, in every place; 

Glory to the Son his equal, who holds the same Empire; 

Even Glory to the Spirit, with them same God. 

So be it."

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