Blessings of peace, grace, and the abiding love of Christ to all of you, my brothers and sisters, gathered here and joining us from across the world on this blessed Saturday.
We find ourselves in a world that cries out. It is a world of profound contradiction, where the brilliance of human achievement is so often overshadowed by the chilling darkness of human cruelty. On this day of rest, a day the Lord has made for renewal, our hearts are heavy with the news that reaches us from every corner of the globe. We hear the echo of gunfire in Sudan, where the divine image in our brothers and sisters is desecrated by those for whom killing has become a vocation. We hear the silent, shattering cry of the sexually assaulted, whose bodies, temples of the Holy Spirit, are violated, their dignity stripped away in acts that wound the soul as deeply as the flesh. We see the smoke rising from a place of prayer in Jakarta, where the quest for God is met with violence, turning a school, a place of learning, into a scene of terror and injury.
These are not distant headlines, my dear friends. They are the open wounds on the Body of Christ. When one member suffers, all suffer together. The command from Genesis rings in our ears not as a threat, but as a sacred principle: human life is inviolable because it is fashioned in the very image of God. To shed innocent blood is to assault the divine presence among us. To commit sexual immorality is to profane the sanctuary of the human person, a sin that strikes at the core of one's own being and the fabric of community. And to persecute others for their faith, or to commit violence in the name of faith, is a tragic betrayal of the very righteousness for which the Lord promises a heavenly reward.
We stand at a precipice. The path we are on, if left unchecked by a collective awakening of conscience, leads to a world I dare not describe in full, for its horror is too great. It is a world where the desert sands of Sudan are soaked not with water, but with the blood of thousands, becoming a monument to our indifference. It is a world where the intimate violation of one becomes the normalized currency of power, eroding all trust and love until humanity is reduced to objects for use. It is a world where the smoke from one bombed mosque multiplies into a global shroud, choking out dialogue, extinguishing hope, and leaving only the bitter ashes of sectarian hatred. This is not merely a possible future; it is the logical end of a path we are treading through our complacency. This is the apocalypse our sins would write for us—a world devoid of the warmth of human dignity, a cold and desolate place.
But, my brothers and sisters, this is not our destiny! We are an Easter people, and "Alleluia" is our song! We do not face this darkness with despair, but with the unshakeable hope that comes from the Risen Lord. Jesus Christ has already conquered sin and death. The victory is won. Our task, our glorious and urgent calling, is to make that victory manifest here on Earth. We are the hands of Christ, his feet, his heart in this world. He does not will to solve these problems from the clouds; He wills to solve them through us, through the workings of good men and women filled with His Spirit.
Envision with me, through the eyes of faith, the world He desires. See a Sudan where the weapons are beaten into plowshares, and former militiamen, transformed by grace, now build schools and till fields alongside those they once persecuted. See a world where every person, in every circumstance, is treated with a reverence that acknowledges the indwelling God, where the culture of use is replaced by a civilization of love and respect. See Jakarta, and every city, as a place where diverse prayers rise like incense to the one Father, where differences in belief lead not to conflict but to a deeper, shared search for Truth.
To build this world, the Church itself must be a beacon of reform and renewal. One of the great challenges we face in our modern time is the scandal of a faith that can sometimes feel remote, a set of rules rather than a living relationship, leading many, especially the young, to drift into a spiritual desert. We must combat this not with condemnation, but with a radical and infectious joy. We must be a Church that goes out, that accompanies, that listens, and that manifests the merciful face of God in every parish, every family, every heart.
Therefore, I call upon you, the faithful—laity, religious, and clergy alike. Do not wait for another. The time for action is now. Let this Saturday be not just a day of rest, but the dawn of your resolve.
To the politicians and leaders among us: Craft laws and policies that protect human life from conception to natural death, that uphold the dignity of every person, and that guarantee religious freedom for all.
To the educators and parents: Form the hearts of the young not only in knowledge but in virtue, teaching them that their greatest strength lies in their capacity for love and self-gift.
To every single baptized person: In your workplaces, your communities, and your homes, be a artisan of peace. Reject gossip, which is a violence of the tongue. Forgive an old grievance. Defend the dignity of someone who is being mocked. Support charities that work in these wounded parts of our world. Let your life be a clear, undeniable sign that Jesus Christ is alive and at work in you.
The choice is starkly before us: a world descending into the chaos we forge by our sins, or the Kingdom of God emerging through the love we enact by His grace. Let us not be remembered as the generation that heard the cries of the world and chose the comfort of silence. Let us be the generation that, with Jesus’s help, answered the cry with courage, with compassion, and with relentless, faith-filled action. Let us build a world worthy of the children of God.
Amen.
What can we do?
When we witness violence against human dignity, begin by consciously rejecting aggression in your own interactions. Speak calmly in disagreements, walk away from potential conflicts, and teach children peaceful resolution skills. Support organizations providing medical care and legal aid to victims of violence through donations or volunteering. In your workplace and community, consistently treat every person as having inherent worth regardless of background or beliefs.
Regarding sexual assault and moral integrity, practice respecting physical and emotional boundaries in all relationships. Explicitly consent to intimate interactions and expect the same from others. Support local shelters and crisis centers that assist survivors. Educate young people about healthy relationships and bodily autonomy. Challenge inappropriate jokes or comments when you hear them, creating environments where disrespect cannot thrive.
Confronting religious persecution starts with building bridges in your own neighborhood. Attend interfaith gatherings to understand different traditions. Defend people's right to worship peacefully when you see it threatened. Support religious refugees in your community through practical assistance like language tutoring or employment connections. Use social media to highlight stories of interfaith cooperation rather than division.
Small, consistent actions create ripples: choose one organization addressing these issues to support monthly, practice daily kindness to those different from you, and use your professional skills to aid humanitarian efforts. Our collective small deeds form a mighty current toward healing.
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.