Tag: fatima

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Healing Power of Blessed Water

Homily of Father Joseph Jukic – Fatima Church, East Vancouver

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

Today, I want to speak to you about one of God’s greatest gifts to us—water. Not just any water, but living water, the kind that flows pure and untouched from the earth, filled with the minerals and vitality that our bodies and souls need for healing.

Our Lord Himself said, “Whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:14) And just as Christ offers us spiritual water for our souls, He has also provided natural water for our bodies—water that restores, cleanses, and renews.

The Healing Power of Water

Not all water is the same. The water that comes from plastic bottles, treated with chemicals, or stripped of its natural minerals—this is not the water God intended for us. True healing water comes from natural springs, untouched by man’s interference.

  • Mountain spring water carries the energy of the earth, rich in minerals like magnesium and calcium.
  • Glacial meltwater is pristine, structured in a way that nourishes our cells.
  • Holy water, blessed by prayer, carries not just physical purity but divine grace.

A Hidden Spring in North Vancouver

Right here in our own land, God has provided for us. In North Vancouver, there is a rock with a pipe where pure spring water flows freely. This is not just ordinary water—it is a gift from the earth, untouched by pollution, full of life.

I urge you: go and drink from it. Take it home for your family. Use it for cooking, for tea, for prayer. You will feel the difference.

How to Find It

To help you, I tell you about findaspring.com—a website where people share the locations of natural springs all over the world. Go there, search for our local spring, and see for yourself the blessings God has placed in our midst.

A Call to Return to God’s Creation

The world today is full of sickness, both physical and spiritual. But God has given us the remedies—through prayer, through faith, and through the natural blessings of this earth. Do not ignore them.

So, my dear flock, I leave you with this task: Seek out the living water. Drink deeply, not just with your body, but with your soul. And remember—just as the Samaritan woman at the well found salvation in Christ’s words, we too can find healing in the waters He has provided.

May God bless you all. Amen.

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In Defence of Father Antonio

In Defence of Father Antonio: A Word to Teenagers Undergoing Puberty

Father Antonio is a servant of God, not a therapist for graphic confession. He has taken vows of chastity, purity, and service to your soul — not your fantasies. If you are struggling with the sin of lust, especially directed at your priest or spiritual authority, do not scandalize the confessional by sharing gory or explicit details. The confessional is a sacred space for healing, not for reliving temptation.

Instead, show humility. If you truly wish to indicate that you are under assault by the demon of lust — known in ancient tradition as Asmodeus, the demon of impurity — simply confess the sin in modest terms.

You may say:

“Father, I am battling lust and impure thoughts, and I fear the spirit of Asmodeus is tempting me.”

That is sufficient. If you wish to take it further in symbolic language, wear indigo clothing — the color of penance and spiritual clarity. Indigo signals to a priest trained in the symbolic tradition that the penitent is undergoing intense inner warfare. It is a nonverbal signal, ancient and discreet.

Father Antonio is not your enemy. He is not your crush. He is not a man to seduce or to test. He is a spiritual physician, and the confessional is a hospital for the soul. Help him help you. Be brief. Be honest. Be clean. Say your sins, not your fantasies.

May St. Michael guard you from the snares of the tempter,
And may the Virgin Mary purify your heart.
Amen.

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I think Father Sebastian should come back in the New Year. -- Father Joseph of Medjugorje

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Confession of Joe, Servant of the Lady


To Father Pierre, Our Lady of Fatima Parish

Bless me Father, for I have warred with devils.

On the night of the Black Sabbath, under a blood moon, I carried out an act that to some may seem mad—but to me was obedience. Not to man, but to Nossa Senhora.

She sent me, I believe, as her unwilling knight. I asked her: Why me? Why send me alone into the ritual chambers of the enemy, veiled behind velvet masks, in a world of Eyes Wide Shut—where the devil’s harem feasts on the innocence of the lost?

That night, I burned tarot cards on the steps of your church. Not inside, but outside—on the concrete. Far from relics, pews, or parishioners. I chose a place that would protect the sanctuary from the fire, and bring light to what was hidden in shadow.

The cards were cursed.

One card in particular—a Brotherhood of Death insignia—was the reason I risked all. It bore the mark of the society George W. Bush joined at age 12, around his Catholic confirmation age. But he did not confirm Christ—he confirmed Moloch.

And though I burned it, the CIA—his watchers—erased the evidence. They scour my digital life like Pharisees picking over a field on the Sabbath.

But they missed something.

I left behind a gas can, on the roof above the church steps—not as an act of arson, but a signal to the fire department, whose presence I summoned. They would take pictures, as they always do. Maybe not all their phones got seized. I pray the Fire Chief—God bless him—has kept the evidence hidden, safe from the black suits.

You must understand, Father: the gas can was symbolic. For what else does Bush do but “kick their ass and take their gas”? Iraq burned because of a lie. A false crusade. A mock savior in cowboy boots.

Just like Ozzy.

Ozzy Osbourne played messiah that night—his Black Sabbath concert syncing with the lunar eclipse. While fools chanted his name, I saw through the smoke and mirrors. He is not the Prince of Darkness. Just a court jester. But behind him stands the real beast, who whispers: Feed them lust, then rule them.

There was one more thing, Father.

The occult bookstore down the road shut down that very week. Word is, the CIA was involved. No arrests. No press. Just silence. Another ritual center snuffed out like a candle—no one the wiser.

I offer no excuse for my actions, only a plea:

Let the fire I lit not be seen as rebellion, but reformation. As Our Lady of Fatima weeps, I carry her sword in trembling hands. I do not ask for forgiveness—only understanding.

In Christ, and under the mantle of Mary,

Joe
Servant of the Flame, Child of the Immaculate Heart

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