Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters, on this Sunday, the Second Sunday after the Nativity of the Lord, a day we celebrate the Word made flesh who dwells among us, the Light that shines in the darkness.
We gather in a world that often feels shrouded in that very darkness. We hear of distant conflicts where the thunder of missiles silences the laughter of a child. We read of clandestine operations, of “Absolute Resolve,” where the sovereignty of nations is breached by force and subterfuge. We witness a profound crisis of truth, where the very stories meant to inform us become instruments of intrusion, where facts are contested, and suffering is denied or exploited. The fabric of our common humanity is being torn by the three great scourges of our age: the idolatry of power, the contempt for human dignity, and the corruption of truth.
Consider first the peacemakers, whom our Lord called blessed, children of God. True peace is not the silence of the grave, nor is it the order imposed by the drone and the blowtorch. It is the fruit of justice, of dialogue, of respect for the sacred dignity of peoples and their right to determine their own destiny. When we replace the arduous path of diplomacy with the swift calculus of intervention, we do not build peace. We sow the seeds of resentment, of further conflict, of a world where might alone makes right. We must ask ourselves: are we children of God, building His kingdom of justice and peace, or are we mere agents of a worldly kingdom built on sand?
For what is violated in these interventions, but the very image of God in man? The Psalmist cries out to us across the centuries: “Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed. Rescue the weak and the needy.” Look upon the face of a child in Kharkiv, in Gaza, in so many places whose names become synonymous with grief. That child is not a statistic, not a pawn in a geopolitical narrative. That child is Christ Himself, who tells us, “whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” When we allow the lie to flourish that denies their suffering, when we turn away from their shattered bodies and homes, we turn away from the Cross. We become complicit in the hand of the wicked.
And how does this wickedness flourish? It flourishes in the shadow of falsehood. Saint Paul implores us to “put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body.” Yet we have created a world where the body is fractured by a cacophony of deceit. When media, the very mirror we hold to society, betrays its sacred trust—intruding upon grief, prioritizing narrative over nuance, becoming a weapon rather than a witness—it severs the bonds of our common membership. When we cannot agree on what is real, how can we possibly love one another? We become isolated members, dying from the poison of suspicion and hate.
Yet, my brothers and sisters, do not lose heart. This is the Sunday of the Nativity light. We are not without hope, for our hope has a name: Jesus Christ. Envision with me, through the eyes of faith, the world He empowers us to build. See a world where nations resolve their disputes at the table of dialogue, where soldiers lay down their arms to become architects of reconciliation. See a world where every human life, from conception to natural death, in peace or in war, is revered as a temple of the Holy Spirit, where no child’s death is ever met with a lie. See a world where our communication is an act of communion, where media serves to unite, to heal, to illuminate the path of justice. This is not a naive dream. This is the Kingdom of God, and it is built by the daily, courageous choices of good men and women who cooperate with His grace.
But to build this world, we must first heal our own house. One of the great wounds the Church bears in the modern world is a crisis of credibility born of our own failures. We speak of truth, yet have been scarred by scandal and secrecy. We preach the dignity of every person, yet have sometimes failed to protect the most vulnerable among us. This wound hinders our voice and weakens our witness. Therefore, I call upon every one of the faithful—clergy, religious, and laity—to aid in solving it. Be agents of radical transparency, of humble accountability, of a charity that is never afraid of the light. Let our parishes be models of integrity, where every person is safe, heard, and respected. Only a purified Church can credibly call for a purified world.
Hear now a dire warning, spoken not in anger, but in the anguish of a father for his children. If we choose not to be peacemakers, we choose perpetual war, and our cities will be reduced to rubble by our own hatred. If we choose not to defend the weak, we choose a culture of death, and we will find that when we sacrifice the innocent on the altars of ideology or convenience, we have sacrificed our own humanity. If we choose falsehood over truth, we choose spiritual blindness, and we will wander, isolated and hostile, in a self-made hell where love cannot survive. This is the apocalyptic path of our own making, the harvest of the seeds we refuse to uproot.
But today, on this holy Sunday, we are given another choice. We choose Christ. We choose to be, with Him, the peacemakers who bridge divides. We choose to be, with Him, the defenders who lift up the fallen. We choose to be, with Him, the witnesses who speak truth in love. Let us leave this place not as passive observers of a fracturing world, but as active participants in its redemption. Let your families be schools of peace. Let your professions be platforms for dignity. Let your words be instruments of healing truth. The Lord of the Nativity, the Light of the World, depends on our hands, our voices, and our hearts to make His Kingdom visible. Let us not keep Him waiting.
Amen.
What can we do?
In a world where distant conflicts and complex headlines can make us feel powerless, our daily choices and actions are the most powerful tools we possess. Our faith calls us not to despair, but to engage. Here is how we can practically contribute.
In the face of conflict and the violation of sovereignty, we cultivate peace in our own sphere. This begins with rejecting the language of dehumanization. In conversations, online and offline, refuse to label groups or nations as monolithic enemies. Seek out and listen to the personal stories of civilians caught in conflict zones, understanding that their desire for safety and dignity mirrors our own. Support, through donations or volunteer work, the humanitarian organizations that operate across borders to aid all victims of war, not based on politics, but based on human need. Advocate to your elected representatives for diplomatic solutions and the protection of civilians as the foremost priorities in any international crisis.
To protect human life and dignity, we must see the individual behind the statistic. This means consciously supporting the vulnerable in our own communities. This could be mentoring a child who needs a positive role model, volunteering at a shelter or food bank, or simply ensuring an elderly neighbor is not forgotten. In your professional life, advocate for fair wages and just working conditions. When you hear of atrocities abroad, do not let the numbers numb you. Channel that outrage into concrete support for reputable international aid agencies that provide medical care, shelter, and trauma support. Write letters, through organized campaigns, urging governments and international bodies to uphold humanitarian law and grant access to those in need.
For the cause of truth and media integrity, we must become discerning consumers and ethical sharers of information. Before sharing a news story, especially on social media, pause. Check the source. Is it reputable? Are other credible outlets reporting the same? Be wary of headlines designed solely to provoke anger. Subscribe to and financially support journalism that practices rigorous fact-checking and offers depth over sensationalism. In your own speech, be meticulous with the truth. Correct misinformation gently when you encounter it, and have the courage to admit when you yourself have shared something inaccurate. Value consent and personal dignity; do not circulate graphic or intrusive images that violate the privacy of victims, even in the name of awareness.
Our mission is not to solve every global crisis from our homes, but to live in such a way that the principles of peace, dignity, and truth are made tangible right where we are. Through these daily, practical acts, we build a counter-current to the world’s brokenness, brick by brick, with our own hands.
Go in peace.
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