Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters, on this day of preparation, this Saturday, a day to reflect on the work of our hands and the state of our world as we await the Lord’s Day.
We gather in a world that groans, a world that cries out for the healing touch of its Creator. We hear its cries in the thunder of drones and the collapse of buildings, where the sacred command, “You shall not kill,” is trampled by the machinery of war. We see the image of God, imprinted on every human soul, violated in the rubble of Kyiv and in the forgotten villages of Sudan. We feel the earth itself shudder under the weight of our neglect, as rivers choke and forests fall silent, a tragic betrayal of our divine mandate to "work and keep" the garden entrusted to us.
These are not distant headlines, my dear brothers and sisters. They are the symptoms of a profound sickness—a sickness of the spirit that places power above person, profit above people, and convenience above creation. It is the ancient sin of Cain, who asked, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” echoing now in the halls of power and in the silence of our own hearts. If we continue on this path, if we choose to be mere spectators to this suffering, we are not simply ignoring a problem; we are actively constructing a world devoid of God’s love. We are building our own apocalypse—not one of divine wrath, but one of our own making. A world where the air is too thick to breathe and the water too poisoned to drink, a world where the concept of neighbor has been erased by borders of fear and indifference, a world where the death of a stranger in a distant land is met with nothing more than a weary sigh. This is the desolate future that awaits if we do not awaken from our slumber.
But listen! This is not our inevitable fate! For our God is a God of resurrection. He can bring life from the tombs of war, justice from the depths of oppression, and restore creation from the brink of ruin. He does not do this from the clouds, but through us—through our hands, our voices, and our choices. He calls us, as he called the prophet Isaiah, to “learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression.” He calls us to be the good men and women through whom His grace flows into a wounded world.
Imagine, with the eyes of faith, a world transformed by the love of Christ. Imagine a world where the resources spent on weapons are poured into building homes and hospitals. A world where every child is cherished, every life protected from conception to natural death. A world where the powerful are held to account, not by more violence, but by the unassailable force of truth and the relentless pursuit of justice. A world where we walk gently upon this earth, seeing in its forests and rivers not commodities to be exploited, but a sacred trust to be guarded for our children and our children’s children. This is not a naive dream; this is the Kingdom of God, and it is our mission to build its foundations here and now.
To do this, we must first look within our own spiritual home. One of the great challenges facing the Church in this modern time is the scandal of division—the fragmentation that pits tradition against progress, that builds walls where Christ tore them down. We are called to be one Body, yet we are fractured by ideology, by pride, and by a failure to listen with the heart of Christ. I call upon every one of you, the faithful, to become artisans of unity. In your families, in your parishes, and in your online communities, seek first to understand before being understood. Let your dialogue be marked by charity, your disagreements by respect, and your common goal be the proclamation of the Gospel, not the victory of your own opinion. Heal this wound from within, so that we may be a more credible sign of God’s reconciling love for the world.
Let us leave this place, then, not as a people condemned to a dire future, but as a people empowered by hope. Let us be the ones who seek out the oppressed, who defend the unborn, who plant trees whose shade we may never sit under. Let our lives become a living sermon, a testament to the world that another way is possible—the way of Jesus Christ. For when good people, filled with the Holy Spirit, resolve to act, no darkness can overcome the light they bring.
Amen.
What can we do?
When we see violence shattering lives in distant cities, we can begin by consciously rejecting aggression in our own spheres. Practice resolving conflicts through patient dialogue rather than anger. Support humanitarian organizations providing medical aid and shelter to those displaced by war, whether through donations or by raising awareness in your community. In your daily interactions, treat every person—from the grocery clerk to the political opponent—with the fundamental respect their humanity deserves, refusing to dehumanize others even in your thoughts.
Confronting injustice begins with becoming reliably informed about oppression occurring both locally and globally. Subscribe to credible news sources that investigate power. Use your voice where it matters: write to your political representatives demanding concrete action for victims, and support transparent human rights organizations with your time or resources. In your own life, be the person who speaks up against a bully, who defends the colleague being treated unfairly, and who ensures the marginalized in your own circle are heard and included.
Caring for our common home requires shifting from passive concern to active habit. Examine your consumption: reduce single-use plastics, consciously lower your energy use, and support companies with verifiable ethical and sustainable practices. Consider your diet's environmental footprint. Advocate for corporate accountability by choosing where you spend your money, and participate in local conservation efforts, whether it's a park clean-up or a tree-planting initiative. Make stewardship a tangible part of your routine, not just an abstract idea.
Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can. The transformation of the world is built upon the cumulative weight of a billion small, faithful actions.
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.