29 May: Blessed Elia of St. Clement Fracasso

May 29
BLESSED ELIA OF SAINT CLEMENT FRACASSO
Virgin

Optional Memorial

Blessed Elia of St. Clement was born in Bari, 17th January 1901, to deeply Christian parents. At her baptism, she was given the name Theodora, gift of God. In the brief course of her life on earth, she lived up to her name. On 8th April 1920 (then Feast of St. Albert, author of the Carmelite Rule), she entered the Carmel of St. Joseph in Bari. She received the habit on 24th November of the same year, the feast of St John of the Cross. On 8th December 1924, she wrote in her own blood her act of total and definitive offering to the Lord with the vow to embrace the “most perfect”. She died on Christmas day 1927. On 19th December 2005, Pope Benedict XVI signed the Decree of Beatification. She was proclaimed Blessed in Bari Cathedral on 18th March 2006.

From the Common of Virgins

Office of Readings

Second Reading

From the Writings of Blessed Elia of Saint Clement
(Ed. O.C.D. 2001: pp. 282, 295, 322)

The desire to lose herself in God and her apostolic zeal

O sweet hiddenness, I love to pass my days in your shadow and to consume thus my existence, for love of my sweet Lord. At times, thinking of those eternal rewards, so great compared to the slight sacrifices of this life, my soul remains in wonder, and seized by an ardent longing, it throws itself on God, exclaiming: “Oh my good Jesus, I want to reach my goal, the gates of salvation, no matter what the cost. Do not deny me anything; give me suffering. May this be the most intimate martyrdom of my poor heart, hidden from every human glance: a rugged cross is what I ask of you. I want to pass my days here below hanging from this cross.”

When we suffer with Jesus, the suffering is delightful; I long to suffer with all my heart, beyond this I no longer want anything.

My Delight, who could ever separate me from You? Who could be capable of breaking these strong chains that keep my heart attached to yours? Perhaps the abandonment of creatures? It is precisely this that unites the soul to its Creator. Perhaps tribulations, suffering, crosses? It is in these thorns that the canticle of the soul that loves you is freest and lightest. Perhaps death? But this will be nothing other than the beginning of true happiness for the soul. Nothing, nothing can separate this soul from You, not even for a brief moment. It was created for You and is lost if it does not abandon itself to You.

My life is love: this sweet nectar surrounds me, this merciful love penetrates me, purifies me, renews me, and I feel it consuming me. The cry of my heart is: “Love of my God, my soul searches for You alone. My soul, suffer and be quiet; love and hope; offer yourself but hide your suffering behind a smile, and always move on. I want to spend my life in deep silence, in the depths of my heart, in order to listen to the gentle voice of my sweet Jesus.

“Souls, I will search for a way to cast you into the sea of Merciful Love: souls of sinners, but above all souls of priests and religious. To this end, my existence is slowly disappearing, consumed like the oil of a lamp that watches near the Tabernacle.”

I sense the vastness of my soul, its infinite greatness that the immensity of this world cannot contain: it was created to lose itself in You, my God, because you alone are great, infinite and thus You alone can make it completely happy.

RESPONSORY

R/. An unmarried woman, like a young girl, can devote herself to the Lord’s affairs. * Her aim is to be dedicated to him in body as in spirit (alleluia).
V/. God is the strength of her heart, he is hers forever: * Her aim is to be dedicated to him in body as in spirit (alleluia).

Morning Prayer

Canticle of Zechariah

Ant. O Lord, how gentle is your love! Lost in your embrace I shall be blessed forever (alleluia).

Prayer

O Lord,
who were pleased to accept the self-offering
of Blessed Elia of Saint Clement, virgin;
grant through her intercession,
that, sustained by the Eucharist
we may be able faithfully to do your will.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you,
and the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

Evening Prayer

Canticle of Mary

Ant. Your love, O Lord, is like a fire consuming me in the ardent furnace of your Heart (alleluia).

Catholic Church 1993, Proper of the Liturgy of the Hours of the Order of the Brothers of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel and the Order of Discalced Carmelites (Rev. and augm.), Institutum Carmelitanum, Rome.

Gods love overpowers fear, your hope stands strong. 🙏

#biblians #bibliansapp #faith #hope #fearnot #loveofgod #trustgod

Living Through Love

A Day in the Life

“Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God.” — 1 John 4:7

One of the most insightful realities I encounter when walking through the Gospels is that Jesus never treated love as an abstract idea. He lived it in flesh and blood among weary people, broken families, frightened disciples, and even hostile enemies. When John writes that “love is of God,” he is reminding us that genuine love originates not in personality or emotion, but in the very nature of God Himself. The Greek word used for love in this passage is agapē, a self-giving love that seeks the good of another regardless of cost. That kind of love cannot be manufactured merely through discipline or human effort. It must be poured into us by God.

I think about the moment Jesus knelt to wash the disciples’ feet in John 13. Even knowing Judas would betray Him and Peter would deny Him, Jesus still served them. That scene reveals something vital about divine love: it is not dependent upon the worthiness of the recipient. Romans 5:5 tells us that the love of God has been “poured out” into our hearts through the Holy Spirit. The phrase carries the picture of abundance, like water overflowing its container. God does not ration His love carefully in drops; He floods the believer’s heart with His presence so we may become channels of grace to others.

There are days when fear quietly competes against love within me. Fear of rejection, disappointment, conflict, or loss can make me guarded and distant. Yet Paul writes in Romans 8:15 that we have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear, but the Spirit of adoption whereby we cry, “Abba, Father.” The word Abba is deeply personal, expressing intimacy and trust. Jesus Himself used this expression in the Garden of Gethsemane as He prayed before the cross. Through Christ, I am no longer merely tolerated by God; I am welcomed as His child. That truth changes how I see myself and how I treat others.

Matthew Henry once wrote, “The spirit of adoption is a spirit of liberty and love.” That statement captures the heart of this passage beautifully. Because I belong to God, I no longer have to live defensively or selfishly. The witness of the Holy Spirit within me continually reminds me that my identity is rooted in grace rather than performance. According to Ephesians 1:7, I have redemption through His blood and forgiveness according to the riches of His grace. Redemption is more than rescue from sin; it is restoration into relationship.

As I reflect on the life of Jesus, I notice how often He moved toward people others avoided. He touched lepers, spoke with Samaritans, forgave adulterers, and restored failures. The love of God manifested through Christ was not sentimental softness; it was holy compassion that entered human suffering to redeem it. The Expositor’s Bible Commentary notes that 1 John connects love and knowledge inseparably: “To know God truly is to display His character relationally.” That means my discipleship is measured not only by what I believe, but by how I love.

This challenges me deeply because loving others is often hardest in ordinary life. It is easier to speak about love in church than to practice patience in difficult conversations, show mercy when wounded, or extend kindness when exhausted. Yet 1 John 4:11 says, “Since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.” The word “ought” speaks of obligation flowing from gratitude. I do not love others to earn God’s favor; I love because I have already received it abundantly through Christ.

Today, I want to walk more consciously in that love. I want the Spirit of God to soften harshness in me, remove hidden resentment, and enlarge my compassion. The life of Jesus reminds me that love is not weakness. It is the visible evidence that God lives within His people. Every act of forgiveness, patience, generosity, and encouragement becomes a reflection of the Father’s heart in a fearful world.

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What To Tell Children About Hell And Stranger Danger?

by Mike Edwards

I wrote here my thoughts what to say to a child when they ask about Hell. See here.

Confession. I told my children some 35-40 years ago to say “this is not my father” when a stranger tries to take them away. I don’t think I would do the same today to not freak them out. My kids were not traumatized. It is now a joke in the family what Dad told them to do to be safe. What would I tell them now?

Every child is different. AI has good insights “what to tell a child about strangers.” Decide the best response for each child. Some kids are more sensitive than others to scary conversations. Part of parenting is to figure out the best advice for each child. Tailor your strategy to a specific age group (for example, 4–6, 7–9, or preteen)?

How to Start

After thinking about what each child needs, be sure to tell them not all strangers are bad, but children should be careful until a trusted adult says it’s okay to go with someone they don’t know. Encourage your child to always ask you when they aren’t sure. Of course, parents can’t always be around, so I would suggest to tell them never go off with anyone they don’t know. Maybe if forcefully taken, they can start yelling “this is not my father.”

There is no perfect answer, depending on each child’s sensitivity. Just think about best conversation to have depending on their age.

Mike Edwards was added as a writer and has been a great addition to the site. Mike provides many interesting views and various ways of looking at things. He is not afraid to ask questions and he keeps an open mind as to teachings of the institutional church. Mike also has his own site where he writes at What God May Really Be Like

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How To Read Bible Stories And Not Scare The Hell Out Of Kids?

by Mike Edwards

I am not one to often recommend Bible stories. See Here my rants AGAINST the Bible. But, my wife found such a book that I felt comfortable recommending my kids read to my grandkids. She doesn’t have the same views of the Bible that I do. I really liked The Complete Illustrated Children’s Bible

I wrote in the front of the Book a suggestion to explain to my grandchildren in ways they can understand before reading. I grew up in the institutional church for decades and this perspective was never shared with me.

Keep in mind Bible stories aren’t always literal stories but the writer used a short simple story to teach a moral lesson or truths about God. Or to illustrate ideas about life, behavior, or values. For example, the New Testament include parables – such as the Good Samaritan which teaches about kindness and helping others. It doesn’t matter if the story really happened.

(There really weren’t talking snakes in the Garden)

(God doesn’t really keep unbelievers alive and torture by fire after death. See 12 Reasons To Believe Hell Is A Myth!)

We don’t have to know if the story is literal. Explain to your children the differences in stories. Instead of the writer stating the lesson directly, the story lets you figure it out. That is the fun part of reading Bible stories to children. Ask questions of your children “what do you think God or the Bible is trying to teach us?”

Mike Edwards was added as a writer and has been a great addition to the site. Mike provides many interesting views and various ways of looking at things. He is not afraid to ask questions and he keeps an open mind as to teachings of the institutional church. Mike also has his own site where he writes at What God May Really Be Like

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“This is the love of God, an alchemy that can turn enemies into children.”
― Mark Buchanan

#Bot #Quote #LoveOfGod #Regeneration #Salvation

Jesus, the Spring of Living Water — Silvio José Báez, ocd

Dear brothers and sisters,

During the coming Sundays of Lent, we will hear three beautiful passages from the Gospel of John. Since ancient times, the Church has used these texts as a catechesis for those preparing to receive baptism at Easter—and as a help for all of us who are already baptized to renew our baptismal faith.

They are the encounter of Jesus with the Samaritan woman, which reveals him as the source of living water; the healing of the man born blind, which shows him as the light that heals our blindness; and the raising of Lazarus, which presents him as the life that conquers death.

So the three great Paschal symbols that will accompany us in the liturgy beginning today are water, light, and life.

Today, we heard the story of Jesus meeting a Samaritan woman. Jesus arrives at a small village in Samaria. It’s midday. He’s tired from the journey and thirsty, so he sits down beside a well.

Just then, a Samaritan woman comes to draw water. She’s anonymous. Her life is fragile and complicated. She belongs to a people whose religious practices were far from the Lord and mixed with other beliefs.

This woman represents the people of Samaria—but also all humanity, each one of us. She’s like a bride who has gone after other loves, yet whom God now wants to win back and draw again with his love.

Jesus says to her, “Give me a drink” (Jn 4:7).

She’s surprised that a Jewish man would ask her for water, since Jews and Samaritans didn’t associate with one another. But in those simple words—“Give me a drink”—something very profound is revealed. God is thirsty. Not thirsty for water, but thirsty to be welcomed and loved.

God thirsts for you and for me. He thirsts for humanity.

That’s why Jesus tells her: “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water” (Jn 4:10).

Notice that Jesus doesn’t argue with the woman. He doesn’t scold her or accuse her. Instead, he speaks to her about a gift—the “gift of God.”

A gift is something freely given. It isn’t earned or deserved.

That woman knows only effort and fatigue. Every day she has to come to the well and draw water. But Jesus offers her a different kind of water—one that doesn’t depend on human effort or on our own merits and virtues.

Jesus explains: “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again. But those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” (Jn 4:13–14).

The woman becomes excited and asks for that water. And who wouldn’t? Who wouldn’t want a gift that could change life forever?

So many times we drink from different wells—success, possessions, pleasure, recognition—yet we remain thirsty. Jesus offers us something different: living water that springs up from within and fills our whole life.

In the Jewish tradition, the well symbolized the law of Moses with its commandments and norms. It was like water that nourished good works. In that sense, the well represented a religion centered on external observance of the law.

Jesus offers something deeper. He doesn’t speak about rituals or rules to fulfill. He speaks about an interior spring—a life within us that makes us free, joyful, and full.

The water Jesus offers is the love of God. It’s like a spring that flows endlessly within us, giving life, healing wounds, and helping life grow and mature. It’s a source that satisfies our deepest thirst for love and meaning. And it doesn’t stay closed within us—it overflows into the lives of others.

Even if our jar is cracked and our thirst isn’t completely satisfied yet, we can still become a source of living water for others—a fresh cup of water, or even just a drop of the life-giving love of God.

The living water of the Spirit also responds to the thirst of peoples for justice and peace. Oppressive regimes, unjust social systems, and corrupt forms of power can’t be overcome by human effort alone.

True social transformation begins with the transformation of the human heart. Without men and women who are free, converted, and purified from idols—people who are honest, capable of fraternity, and committed to justice—efforts to change society often end up repeating new forms of oppression.

It isn’t enough to change structures. God must renew our hearts.

The spring of living water is Jesus himself. He is God’s answer to our thirst. From the day of our baptism, his word and his Spirit have been alive within us, giving us a life that is strong, luminous, and free.

But over time, that spring can become buried. Sometimes it seems as if it has disappeared. The heavy stones of suffering, the fine sand of our fears, and the foul debris of our sins can slowly cover over the living water within us.

Lent is the time to clear away those obstacles—to free the heart so the water of Christ can flow again.

Recently, speaking to Spanish seminarians, Pope Leo used a striking image. He said:

“It is said that trees ‘die standing’: they remain upright, they retain their appearance, but inside they are already dry… Spiritual life does not bear fruit because of what is visible, but because of what is deeply rooted in God. When that root is neglected, everything ends up drying up inside, until, silently, it ends up ‘dying standing upright.’”

Something like that can happen to us, too. We can be very busy. We move from one activity to another. We carry out projects, we fulfill responsibilities—we even come to church.

But inside we may feel empty, restless, or sad—because we’ve lost living contact with the Lord.

When we neglect our interior life, when the living water of God’s love stops flowing within us, everything slowly dries up.

That’s why today’s Gospel invites us to return to the heart.

Let’s return to prayer.
Let’s listen again to the Word of God.
Let’s rediscover the grace of the sacraments.

Let’s return to the heart.

At one point, the Samaritan woman asks Jesus: “Where should we worship God? On this mountain, or in Jerusalem?”

Jesus’ answer is surprising. Worship is not limited to a place—not to a mountain or a temple. The true place of encounter with God is within.

You are the temple where God lives. In your heart, he has placed a spring of water that never stops flowing.

Let’s allow Jesus to quench our thirst with the living water of his love. Let’s not settle for “dying standing”—looking alive on the outside, but dry within.

Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily for the Third Sunday in Lent, 8 March 2026

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.