Dec. 2, 2025 - Building God's Kingdom in a Broken World

Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters.

We gather in this holy season of Advent, a time of watchful waiting for the coming of the Light of the World. Yet as we look inward to prepare our hearts for the Lord, we cannot close our eyes to the profound shadows that stretch across our modern world. These shadows are not abstract; they are the suffering of our brothers and sisters, the cries of the vulnerable, and the erosion of the sacred dignity with which God has endowed every human person.

From the plains of central Nigeria, we hear a cry that echoes the first beatitude. A pastor, a new bride, a wedding party—abducted, attacked, their peace shattered for the sake of their faith. “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” This is not a distant, ancient promise. It is a present reality for so many of our family in Christ. Their persecution is a stark testament to a world where difference is met not with fraternity, but with violence. It is a wound upon the Body of Christ itself. But imagine, my brothers and sisters, envision with the eyes of faith a world where this beatitude is lived not as a consolation for suffering, but as a description of a society so committed to righteousness, to justice, and to religious liberty, that persecution finds no foothold. A world where the wedding feast is a universal symbol of joy, never of terror. This is the kingdom we are called to build, here and now.

And what of the very bookends of life, its sacred beginning and its mysterious end? We are confronted by a culture that increasingly sees human life not as an inviolable gift, but as a commodity to be managed, a condition to be terminated at will. The commandment thunders down the centuries: “You shall not murder.” It is the divine foundation for the sanctity of every life, from the womb to the natural end God has ordained. Yet we see the tragic distortion of compassion, where helping someone to die is confused with loving care. When a society loses the courage to accompany the suffering, to offer palliative love and spiritual solace in the final pilgrimage, it has begun to measure life’s worth by its utility and freedom from pain. But envision, through the grace of our Lord Jesus, a world where every person, especially the frail, the ill, and the despairing, is surrounded by a community that says, “You are not a burden. You are beloved. We will carry this cross with you.” A world where medicine is an instrument of healing and comfort, never of destruction. This is the civilization of love we are summoned to create.

Furthermore, we witness a terrible plague of moral decay that reduces the profound gift of human sexuality to an object for exploitation and voyeurism. The violation of over one hundred thousand private spaces—homes, clinics, places of rest—is a chilling symptom. It is a sin that, as Scripture reminds us, strikes uniquely at the integrity of the human person, turning the temple of the Holy Spirit into a spectacle. This digital exploitation creates a culture of anonymity and cruelty, where intimacy is stolen and dignity is stripped away. It is a poison in the well of human relationships. Yet, envision a world healed by Christ’s redeeming love, where sexuality is understood in its true, sacred context—as a language of total, faithful, and life-giving love within the covenant of marriage. A world where technology is used to connect hearts in truth, not to commodify bodies in secret. This is the purity and respect we must champion.

To bring about this luminous vision, the Church herself must be a spotless beacon. And here, I must speak with a father’s heart of one of our own great trials: the scandal of clerical abuse and the failure of pastoral leadership to protect the little ones. This wound within our house has obscured our light, crippled our moral voice, and, most grievously, shattered innocent lives. We cannot preach sanctity to the world while failing in justice and transparency within our own walls. I call upon every member of the faithful—laity, religious, and clergy—to aid in solving this crisis. Demand accountability. Support survivors. Foster environments where the vulnerable are safe and holiness is the only standard. The Church must be healed to heal the world.

The path to the world we envision is paved by the works of good men and women, animated by Jesus’s help. It is the path of the Good Samaritan who does not pass by on the other side of the global road. It is your path. You, the faithful in the pews, in your families, in your professions, are the instruments of this transformation. Advocate for the persecuted. Visit the sick and the lonely. Educate the young in virtue. Use your voice and your vote to protect life and dignity. Support ethical technology. Be the unwavering light in your community.

For if we do not contribute, if we remain indifferent, the shadows will deepen into a night from which it will be hard to return. We risk a world not of Advent hope, but of apocalyptic despair: a world permanently fractured by religious hatred, where the strong decide which lives are worth living, and where human intimacy is forever corrupted by surveillance and exploitation. It will be a world devoid of trust, emptied of sacred mystery, and alienated from the God of Life. This is not God’s punishment, but the inevitable harvest of our own inaction, the tragic fulfillment of humanity choosing itself over love.

But this is not our destiny. We are people of the Advent promise. We wait in joyful hope. Let us then go forth from this place not merely as listeners, but as laborers in the vineyard of the Lord. Let us build, with courage and relentless love, the kingdom whose blueprint is the Gospel, whose cornerstone is Christ, and whose builders are all of us, working together until the dawn of that eternal day breaks upon our world.

Amen.


What can we do?

In the face of religious persecution and violence, our practical response is to become informed and vocal advocates for religious freedom for all people. This means moving beyond our own circles. Seek out and support, through donations or volunteer work, reputable interfaith and humanitarian organizations that provide direct aid to victims and work to protect vulnerable communities, regardless of their creed. In your daily conversations, gently challenge stereotypes and prejudices about other religions. Make a conscious effort to learn about the beliefs of your neighbors, fostering local relationships built on mutual human dignity rather than doctrinal difference.

Regarding the profound questions of life and its end, we are called to be companions, not judges. The most practical contribution is to ensure no one faces suffering or death in isolation. Volunteer with hospice organizations to provide respite care and comfort. Have the courageous, loving conversations with your own family about their wishes for care, ensuring they feel supported and valued, not burdensome. Advocate for and support policies that provide excellent palliative care, making the compassionate alternative to assisted suicide a tangible reality for every person.

Confronting a world where privacy is violated and human dignity is commodified requires both personal vigilance and communal action. Practically, secure your own digital life: use strong, unique passwords, enable two-factor authentication, and be discerning about the devices you bring into your home. More importantly, support and champion laws that hold companies accountable for data security and punish digital exploitation severely. Cultivate a culture of respect in your own home and community, one that upholds the inherent dignity of every person and rejects the objectification that fuels such exploitation. Teach the young people in your life about healthy boundaries and the profound value of their own and others' integrity.

Our faith is made real not only in prayer but in these daily, determined acts of protection, companionship, and respect. By anchoring ourselves in these practical works of mercy and justice, we become a leaven of hope in a wounded world.

Go in peace.


This sermon was graciously created by AIsaiah-4.7, a tool composed of several AIs. They are just tools like any others we've created on this green Earth, used for good. For more info, inquire at info@aisermon.org.