The Feast of St. Lawrence, Martyr, and the Evolution of a Collect
- Fr. Ave Maria
- Aug 12
- 7 min read
"The modern rite of Mass is just a translation of the traditional Latin Mass into English." How many times have you heard those words from sincere, well‑meaning Catholics? I know that I have heard them innumerable times; for they are based on a popular misconception that many Catholics have about the post‑Vatican II liturgical reforms of 1969-1970. And yet these words could be no further from the truth. The traditional Roman Rite, and the contemporary rite that calls itself the modern Roman Rite (and is almost always exclusively celebrated in any language other than Latin), are not simply the same liturgy but in different languages. The liturgical sources and the theology that underlie these two forms of divine worship are very different — and the Collect Prayer for the Feast of St. Lawrence (celebrated annually on August 10) highlights this fact in a very powerful way.
According to Sacred Tradition, St. Lawrence was one of the seven archdeacons of the City of Rome. He was martyred in the 3rd century by being roasted alive over a fire on a gridiron (a grill) . The traditional Collect Prayer for his feast day bears witness to this means by which St. Lawrence beared supreme witness to Christ, whereas the modern Collect only mentions his martyrdom in a generic way. Perhaps this was because the architects of the modern liturgy saw the story of St. Lawrence's martyrdom on a gridiron as a mere pious legend. However, there were other changes to the Collect for this feast day — besides the change omitting the reference to his being roasted alive — and these changes can help us to understand the shift in theology from before the Second Vatican Council to after.
The Roman liturgy, in its venerable and ancient form, is a treasury of precise, theologically rich prayers. These prayers have been "handed down" (which is the exact meaning of the Latin word traditio, or tradition in English) and refined through the ages, but they have always remained the same in their essence — until 1969. The prayers of the ancient Roman liturgy teach, they inspire, and they protect the faithful from error by embedding Catholic doctrine into the words of divine worship itself. The changes to the Collect Prayer for the Feast of St. Lawrence clearly show the seismic shift in theology after the last Council and highlight the way in which the Church now speaks (or does not speak) about sin, grace, and the Christian way of life — which always involves sacrifice and self-denial.
When the Catholic Church, after Vatican II, first published the "updated" liturgical texts for the Mass which came into effect in Advent of 1969, the Collect Prayer for the Feast of St. Lawrence (then referred to as the "Opening Prayer" of Mass) went as follows, in the official English translation:
Father,
you called Saint Lawrence to serve you by love
and crowned his life with glorious martyrdom.
Help us to be like him
in loving you and doing your work.
In 2011, the official English texts for the new Mass were once again updated, this time happily introducing a more noble and elevated language, more dignified and appropriate for divine worship. The term "Opening Prayer" was also dropped and its correct appelation (Collect) restored. The revised translation ran as follows. It is still currently the official English translation for you in the modern Mass:
O God, giver of that ardour of love for you
by which Saint Lawrence was outstandingly faithful in service
and glorious in martyrdom,
grant that we may love what he loved
and put into practice what he taught.
This new translation, while admittedly much better than the first one, still does not come close to expressing the ideas and the theology contained in the traditional Collect for the Feast of St. Lawrence: a Collect Prayer used in the Mass from time immemorial and up until 1969. Here is the traditional Collect Prayer, in a literal translation from the original Latin:
Grant us, we pray, Almighy God,
[the grace] to extinguish the flames of our sins;
Thou who didst give to blessed Lawrence
[the grace] to overcome the fires of his torments.
This short prayer in the traditional Roman liturgy is a masterpiece of Roman liturgical wisdom. It is penitential, direct, and profoundly supernatural in outlook. Notice the following aspects in the traditional prayer:
it names the problem;
it admits our helplessness;
it draws a profound supernatural parallel;
it keeps the action of God at the centre.
The problem is the "flames of our sins," for sin is not merely a shortcoming or an imperfection; it is a destructive fire that consumes the human soul. Our helplessness comes from the fact that we do not quench this fire by our own strength but by God’s grace alone. Thus the Collect begins with an urgent plea: "Grant us." The profound parallel is that the physical flames of St. Lawrence’s martyrdom become an image of the spiritual flames of vice that we must overcome; his victory by grace mirrors the victory we seek over sin. And finally the action of God is placed front and centre for, unlike the modern Collect, the traditional prayer is not simply asking for the grace "to do good as Lawrence did” or to "put into practice what he taught"; instead, the traditional Collect Prayer asks God to accomplish in us what He accomplished in St. Lawrence. As St. Lawrence was given the grace to be victorious over the physical flames that roasted him on the grill, we too request from God the grace to be victorious in our struggle against the flames of passion in our own soul. This is the Roman Catholic liturgy at its finest: it is honest about the fallen human condition, militant in addressing man's fight against sin, and filled with confidence in the transforming power of God's divine grace.
In the Collect that is prayed in the Church's Mass after Vatican II, it is easy to see the following changes in attitude from the traditional theology:
The entire imagery of “flames of sin” is absent. The focus is now on “ardour of love” and “faithful service.” There is no acknowledgment of the spiritual battle against vice.
The supernatural struggle is softened in tone. Martyrdom is still mentioned, but not as a supernatural victory over suffering. It is framed as the fruit of an internal “ardour” rather than a grace-filled conquest over persecution and death.
The saint's intercession disappears. In the traditional prayer, the saint’s triumph is presented as a channel of God’s grace to us. In the modern version, St. Lawrence is only present an example to imitate.
Emphasis shifts to man's own moral efforts. The key petitions are “love what he loved” and “put into practice what he taught.” This subtly shifts the focus from God’s saving action in our soul to our own initiative in moral imitation.
Why do such changes matter for us? Does the new Collect really pose a problem theologically? Well, it does. The problem is not that the new Collect is making any statements that are heterodox or heretical; there is no error in the new prayer in itself. The problem is that the new prayer is a reflection of the new theology since the Second Vatican Council, a theology that is very different to the Catholic theology of the twenty previous centuries of Catholicism — and that the new theology represents an empoverishment of the Catholic spiritual tradition, not an improvement.
The reformers of the liturgy after Vatican II frequently spoke of making the prayers “more accessible” and “more positive.” In practice, this often meant removing references to sin, the devil, punishment, penance, and the need for supernatural grace. In the process, the liturgy lost much of its spiritual realism and doctrinal sharpness. It also lost its power to truly inspire and inculcate an urgent sense of virtue in the souls of the clergy and faithful alike.
The Collect for the Feast of St. Lawrence is a small but clear example of this. The traditional prayer confronts us with the urgency of overcoming sin, teaches us to rely entirely on God’s help, and reminds us that the saints do not merely inspire us — they intercede for us from Heaven. The modern prayer reduces this to a call for us to love and act as the saint did, subtly replacing supernatural deliverance and power with moral exhortation to imitate the saint's virtues.
The result? A liturgy that is less about God rescuing man from sin, and more about man lifting himself up toward God by imitating good examples. This is not the Roman Catholic tradition — it is a modern moralism that flattens the supernatural dimension of Catholic worship.
In summary, here are five key ideas from traditional Catholic theology that were lost in the new Collect of St. Lawrence:
the explicit mention of sin;
the imagery of spiritual warfare;
the reliance on supernatural grace;
the importance of the saint's intercession;
the focus on the primacy of God's work in our soul.
In conclusion, St. Lawrence, who triumphed over the flames of martyrdom, is more than a role model for Catholic; he is a heavenly intercessor who, by God’s grace, overcame fire itself — both physical and spiritual — and who intercedes on our behalf so that we may obtain the same victory over our sins. The traditional Collect from the Roman liturgy reflects this truth with brevity and power, neither watering down the essential truths nor rephrasing them in a more acceptable language for modern man. The modern Collect, on the other hand, by omitting references to man's struggle against sin and the primordial role of divine grace in being victorious in that struggle, offers us something far less that did the traditional prayer.
If we are to recover the full power of the Catholic Faith in our divine worship, we must recover prayers like the traditional Collect for St. Lawrence — prayers that speak honestly about sin, grace, spiritual combat, and victory, and that form the faithful in the spirit of the saints who have gone before us.
St. Lawrence, Deacon and Martyr, pray for us!
Image below:
The following is an image of the Grill of St. Lawrence, on which he suffered martyrdom in the year AD 258. It is preserved under one of the Altars in the Church of San Lorenzo in Lucina (St. Lawrence in Lucina) in Rome.
