From: richarra@gmail.com   
      
   December 25th - St. Anastasia, Martyr   
      
   The passio of Saint Anastasia explains that the saint was the daughter of a   
   prominent Roman by the name Praetextatus, and had St. Chrysogonus as her   
   advisor.  In time, she married the pagan Publius.   
      
   Anastasius went on to care for the Christians being held in prisons by   
   Diocletian, which prompted Publius to forbid Anastasia from leaving the   
   house.   
      
   Chrysogonus went to Aquileia, which prompted the two to begin   
   correspondence. Publius then went on an embassy to Persia and while on the   
   journey died. Upon hearing of her husband's death Anastasia moved to   
   Aquileia to succor the Christians there, and after the death of Ss. Agape,   
   Chionia and Irene she was arrested herself. While imprisoned by the prefect   
   of Illyricum, Anastasia was fed in her cell by the dead St. Theodota. After   
   imprisonment she and other Christians or pagans were put on a ship and   
   abandoned at sea. Once again St. Theodota came to the ship and led it back   
   to land. With this miraculous act of God all the pagans were converted.   
   These events occurred about the year AD 304.   
      
   Anastasia was taken then to Palmaria and burned alive. She was stretched out   
   while the faggots burned around her. On this day 270 men and women died in a   
   similar manner. St. Anastasia has been venerated in Rome since the late   
   fifth century where her name appears in the canon of the Mass.   
      
   Some consider the particulars of her martyrdom in the passio suspect, but it   
   is known that her death occurred under Diocletian and no records are extant   
   to counter the account in the passio. Her cult first emerged in Sirmium of   
   Pannonia, which may point to her end occurring there instead of Palmaria. In   
   any event, reality often surpasses legend associated with a Saint, and no   
   doubt the same is true of Saint Anastasia.   
      
      
   Saint Quote:   
   Wrong is wrong even if everybody is doing it, and right is right even if   
   nobody is doing it.   
   -St. Augustine   
      
   Bible Quote   
    5. And as he was yet speaking, behold a bright cloud overshadowed them. And   
   lo, a voice out of the cloud, saying: This is my beloved Son, in whom I am   
   well pleased: hear ye him.   (Matthew 17:5)   
      
      
   <><><><>   
   Stabat Mater   
      
   At the cross her station keeping,   
   Stood the mournful Mother weeping,   
   Close to Jesus to the last.   
      
   Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,   
   All His bitter anguish bearing,   
   Now at length the sword had pass'd.   
      
   Oh, how sad and sore distress'd   
   Was that Mother highly blest   
   Of the sole-begotten One!   
      
   Christ above in torment hangs;   
   She beneath beholds the pangs   
   Of her dying glorious Son.   
      
   Is there one who would not weep,   
   Whelm'd in miseries so deep   
   Christ's dear Mother to behold?   
      
   Can the human heart refrain   
   From partaking in her pain,   
   In that Mother's pain untold?   
      
   Bruis'd, derided, curs'd, defil'd,   
   She beheld her tender child   
   All with bloody scourges rent.   
      
   For the sins of His own nation,   
   Saw Him hang in desolation,   
   Till His spirit forth He sent.   
      
   O thou Mother! fount of love!   
   Touch my spirit from above;   
   Make my heart with thine accord.   
      
   Make me feel as thou hast felt;   
   Make my soul to glow and melt   
   With the love of Christ our Lord.   
      
   Holy Mother! pierce me through;   
   In my heart each wound renew   
   Of my Saviour crucified.   
      
   Let me share with thee His pain,   
   Who for all my sins was slain,   
   Who for me in torments died.   
      
   Let me mingle tears with thee,   
   Mourning Him who mourn'd for me,   
   All the days that I may live.   
      
   By the cross with thee to stay,   
   There with thee to weep and pray,   
   Is all I ask of thee to give.   
      
   Virgin of all virgins best,   
   Listen to my fond request   
   Let me share thy grief divine.   
      
   Let me, to my latest breath,   
   In my body bear the death   
   Of that dying Son of thine.   
      
   Wounded with His every wound,   
   Steep my soul till it hath swoon'd   
   In His very blood away.   
      
   Be to me, O Virgin, nigh,   
   Lest in flames I burn and die,   
   In His awful Judgment day.   
      
   Christ, when Thou shalt call me hence,   
   Be Thy Mother my defense,   
   Be Thy cross my victory.   
      
   While my body here decays,   
   May my soul Thy goodness praise,   
   Safe in Paradise with Thee.   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)