Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters, on this Saturday, a day we set aside for the contemplation of Our Lady and a preparation for the Lord’s Day.
We gather in a world that cries out. It cries out from the streets of Munich, where a mother and her tiny child were struck down, their sacred lives extinguished in an act of brutal violence. It cries out from studios and stages, where the gift of creativity is betrayed by the sin of abuse, where the young and trusting are violated, their bodies and spirits wounded. It cries out from the shores of Odesa, where the thunder of bombardment drives families from their homes, where the dream of peace is drowned out by the relentless tide of war.
These are not mere news items, distant tragedies. They are the symptoms of a profound sickness in the human heart, a forgetfulness of who we are and for whom we are made. They represent a threefold assault on the very architecture of God’s creation: an assault on the sanctity of life, on the integrity of the human person, and on the divine vocation to be peacemakers.
The Psalmist cries to us across the centuries with a command that is also a plea: Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed. Rescue the weak and the needy. Every life is a unique and unrepeatable masterpiece of God’s love, from the moment of conception to natural death. To violate that life, to treat it as disposable, whether in the womb, in a city street, or in the chaos of war, is to spit in the face of the Creator. We must be the defenders. We must be the ones who look upon the vulnerable—the unborn, the poor, the refugee, the elderly, the victim of violence—and see not a burden, but a brother, a sister, Christ Himself in distressing disguise.
This defense of life is inseparable from the defense of the human person’s integrity. Saint Paul’s urgent command, Flee from sexual immorality… for whoever sins sexually, sins against their own body, speaks to a truth our world desperately tries to deny. Our bodies are not mere instruments for pleasure or power. They are temples of the Holy Spirit, integral to our being, destined for resurrection and glory. When we reduce the gift of sexuality to a commodity, when we use others for our gratification, when we betray the sacred trust of the young, we do not merely break a rule. We shatter a temple. We wound the very image of God within ourselves and others. A culture that does this is a culture that has lost the language of love and speaks only the dialect of exploitation.
And from this interior ruin flows the exterior catastrophe of war. How can we hope to be peacemakers in the world, as the Lord calls us to be—Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God—if we are at war within ourselves, with our own dignity and with the dignity of others? The conflict in Ukraine, and every conflict that scars our earth, begins long before the first missile is launched. It begins in the hardened heart, in the failure to see the other as a child of God, in the idolatry of power, land, and pride. To build peace, we must first become people of peace, people who have made peace with God’s design for life and love.
I tell you, my brothers and sisters, we stand at a crossroads. One path, lit by the grace of Christ and trod by the feet of good men and women, leads to a world we dare to envision. It is a world where the strong defend the weak as their sacred duty. It is a world where human relationships are marked by reverence, fidelity, and self-gift, not consumption and abuse. It is a world where nations lay down their arms, not because they are weak, but because they have finally found the courage to be truly strong in forgiveness and justice. This is not a naive dream. This is the Kingdom of God, and it is built by the daily, humble, courageous choices of the faithful. It is built by you.
But there is another path, a path of shadows. If we choose indifference—if we hear the cry of the vulnerable and turn up the volume on our own comforts; if we accept the world’s corrupted morality as inevitable; if we think that war is someone else’s problem, far away—then we choose this path. And I say to you with a heavy heart, this path leads to an apocalypse of our own making. Not an apocalypse of divine wrath, but of human abandonment. It is a world where the innocent are routinely sacrificed on the altars of convenience, hatred, and lust. It is a world where the human person is utterly desecrated, a commodity to be used and discarded. It is a world of perpetual, smoldering conflict, where the very concept of peace becomes a forgotten fairy tale. This is the hell we will create if we fail in our Christian duty.
And so, we must also look within our own spiritual family. One of the great wounds the Church bears in the modern world, a wound that cripples our witness, is the scandal of division—the bitter quarrels, the factions, the tendency to condemn one another rather than the true enemy of souls. We spend our energy in internal strife while the world outside bleeds. This must end. I call on every one of you, the faithful, to aid in solving this. Be artisans of unity. Seek first to understand, then to be understood. Let your charity begin here, within these walls, within this global communion. A house divided against itself cannot stand, and a Church divided cannot hope to heal a divided world.
On this day, we might recall the great Saint Anthony of Egypt, who fled the corruption of the city not to escape the world, but to fight the fundamental battle against the disorder within his own soul in the silence of the desert. He won that battle, and in doing so, became a beacon of spiritual integrity that attracted thousands. We are all called to that same desert, that same interior battle. From the clarity of that victory, we can then go out, not with condemnation, but with the irresistible force of lived truth and merciful love.
The tasks are immense. The darkness is real. But we are an Easter people, and ‘Alleluia’ is our song! Do not be afraid. Do not grow weary. In your families, defend life with joy. In your workplaces and communities, live and champion the beautiful truth of human love. Pray and work tirelessly for peace, in your hearts and for our world. Be the good men and women through whom Christ solves these great ills.
The world is waiting, not for more words, but for your witness. Let us go forth, and build the civilization of love.
Amen.
What can we do?
In the face of news that shocks and saddens us, it is easy to feel powerless. Yet, the call to build a better world is answered not in a single grand gesture, but in the faithful accumulation of small, daily choices. Here is how we can practically contribute.
Regarding the Sanctity of Life and Protection of the Vulnerable, when we hear of violence against the innocent, our task is to become defenders in our own sphere. This means actively cultivating a posture of care. In your daily life, look for the isolated, the struggling, or the overlooked—the new coworker, the elderly neighbor, the parent under stress. A simple, consistent check-in is a powerful act of defense. Support, through time or resources, the local shelters, food banks, and family service organizations that form the frontline of protection in every community. Choose to see human dignity first, in every conversation and encounter, refusing the language of contempt that makes violence thinkable.
Concerning Moral Integrity and Sexual Ethics, the revelations of abuse remind us that integrity is built in the private choices no one sees, which then shape the culture everyone inhabits. In your daily life, practice reverence for the physical and emotional dignity of every person. This means fostering relationships based on transparency and respect, not objectification. It means consuming media and entertainment thoughtfully, refusing to support content that degrades or exploits. In your family and community, champion spaces where healthy boundaries are discussed openly and where the vulnerable feel safe to speak. Be someone whose private conduct aligns perfectly with your public values, creating circles of trust.
For Justice and Peace in Conflict Zones, while distant wars rage, peace is forged locally through the relentless work of understanding. In your daily life, become a peacemaker in conversations. When faced with polarized debates, seek to understand the human experience behind the political position. Actively counter misinformation by consulting reliable sources before forming or sharing an opinion. Support, through donations or advocacy, the humanitarian organizations delivering aid impartially to all victims of conflict. Perhaps most practically, extend genuine friendship to immigrants, refugees, or anyone from a conflicted region who is now part of your community—your welcome is a direct antidote to the dehumanization that fuels war.
This is our practical faith: to defend through attention, to uphold through integrity, and to make peace through understanding. Each small, conscious act is a stone placed in the foundation of a better world.
Go in peace.
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