The Fire that consumed Saint Lawrence

The Seventh Reflection on the Titular Painting of the Collegiate Church of Saint Lawrence, Birgu

Once again, we look upon the radiant figure of Saint Lawrence, emanating a light that is but an image of the light by which we shall shine in heaven, and one day shine fully, even in our bodies, on the last day—at the resurrection of the just in Christ.

Saint Lawrence shines in contrast not only to the other figures whom the artist places in shadow and darkness, to show that their hearts lacked the light of faith. He also shines in contrast to the scene depicted in the upper part of the painting, where various buildings in classical style immediately transport our imagination to the Eternal City and the buildings and ruins of the glory days of Imperial Rome—some of which still stand to this day.

Tradition tells us that Saint Lawrence was martyred at the location where now stands the Church of San Lorenzo in Panisperna, said to have been built over the thermal baths of the Olympians on the Viminal Hill—the smallest of the seven hills on which the city of Rome was built. Although archaeological excavations remain inconclusive, this location makes sense since it was in these thermal baths that the infrastructure and resources were available to heat the water for such public baths.

Since nothing remains visible of the ancient Roman structures on that hill, Mattia Preti was free to roam in his spiritual creativity to convey a story and message that speaks to the human heart. If we were to step a little closer and carefully study the immense canvas of the titular painting, we would immediately notice that in this scene, the lines of perspective open outwards, so that the walls of this historic sanctuary become a continuation of the story—one we too live in our flesh as Christians in the world, afflicted both externally and internally, by other humans and powers of evil, and even by our own nature, so inclined to sin. At the same time, all these perspective lines converge somewhere behind the head of our saint, drawing us too—burdened with all we carry—towards this focal point.

It is fire that reveals the work of each one of us (see 1 Cor 3:12–13), and fire that will also reveal the authenticity and consistency of our witness. The fire of the face-to-face encounter with Christ—as Pope Benedict XVI describes the moment of personal judgement in Spe Salvi (par. 47)—will reveal just how steadfast our loyalty to Him remained, even when it was unfashionable or clashed with the deceptive melodies sounding all around us. Melodies with near-perfect harmony and adorned with polished words that can easily deceive us, often without our realising it, as we get caught up in the words and fail to go deeper. We stay on the surface and no longer sift and discern until we reach the heart of the meaning of what we hear and see happening—so that instead of being witnesses to the truth, like sheep that recognise the shepherd’s voice and follow Him, we find ourselves like sheep led to the slaughter—stripped of our identity, our faith, our values, even our human dignity.

Yet those sheep who hear His voice will not be lost, for our Good Shepherd tells us: “Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life” (Jn 8:12).