Quote/s of the Day – 24 July – Tuesday of the Sixteenth week in Ordinary Time, Year C, Gospel: Matthew 12:46-50 and the Memorial of St Bridget of Sweden (c 1303 – 1373)
“For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven,
is my brother and sister and mother.”
Matthew 12:50
“His mother is the whole Church,
since it is she, who, by God’s grace,
gives birth to Christ’s members,
that is to say, those who are faithful to Him.
Again, His mother is every holy soul,
who does the Father’s will
and whose fruitful charity
is made known in those,
to whom she gives birth for Him,
“until he has been formed in them”
(cf Gal 4:19).
St Augustine (354-430) Father & Doctor
“O Lord, make haste and illumine the night.
Say to my soul, that nothing happens,
without You permitting it
and that nothing of what You permit,
is without comfort.”
St Bridget of Sweden (c 1303 – 1373)
“It is a matter of real sorrow when God has given us strength to break stronger fetters, those of vanity and sin, that we neglect our own progress and the attainment of such great blessings, because we will not detach ourselves from trifles.
Not only do we not advance, we fall back.
For it is well known, that on the spiritual road, not to go on, overcoming self, is to go backwards and not to increase our gain, is to lose.
As wood can never be transformed into fire, if one necessary degree of heat is missing, so the soul, that has even one imperfection, can never be perfectly transformed in God.”
Victor was bound hand and foot and dragged through the streets of the city, exposed to the blows and insults of the populace. He was brought back bruised and bloody to the tribunal of the prefects who, thinking his resolution must have been weakened by his sufferings, pressed him again to adore their gods. But the martyr, filled with the Holy Spirit, expressed his respect for the emperor and his contempt for their gods. He was then hoisted on the rack and tortured a long time, until, the tormentors being at last weary, the prefect ordered him to be taken down and thrown into a dark dungeon. At midnight, God visited him by His angels; the prison was filled with a light brighter than that of the sun and the martyr sung with the angels the praises of God.
On his way to Tarsus contrary winds drove his ship to Rome. There no-one recognised him, in this pale and tattered mendicant, the heir of Rome’s noblest house, not even his sorrowing parents, who had vainly sent throughout the world in search of him. From his own father’s charity Saint Alexius begged a miserable shelter in his palace, under a staircase, with the leavings of his table as food. There, he spent another seventeen years, bearing patiently the mockery and ill usage of his own servants and witnessing daily, the still inconsolable grief of his spouse and parents.
But God had commanded Alexius himself to write down his life story and sign it, in this way He Himself confirmed His servant’s sanctity, when he was found lifeless in his retreat, holding that document in his hand. The Pope read aloud what was written on the parchment of the Saint and everywhere in Rome there was a single cry of admiration, impossible to describe. 
AnaStpaul 
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