Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters, on this sacred Saturday, as we gather in the light of Christ to reflect on the wounds of our world and the healing that only His love can bring.
Today, we stand at the crossroads of history, where the cries of the innocent rise like incense before the throne of God. We hear the weeping of Rachel, mourning for her children who are no more—children lost to violence, to war, to the cruelty of human indifference. We see the mothers of Deir al-Balah, clutching the lifeless bodies of their sons, struck down while waiting for aid. We hear the echoes of Isaiah’s lament: "Their feet rush into sin; they are swift to shed innocent blood." The earth is soaked with tears, and the world groans under the weight of its own wickedness.
Yet, my dear brothers and sisters, we are not a people without hope. For we know that Christ has conquered death, and in Him, even the darkest evils shall be overcome. But He does not work alone—He works through us, through the hands of the faithful, through the courage of those who refuse to let hatred and despair have the final word.
Look at the horrors unfolding in Sudan, where war crimes stain the land with blood. Look at the scourge of human trafficking, where men, women, and children are bought and sold like mere commodities, their dignity stripped away. The words of Exodus thunder through the ages: "Anyone who kidnaps someone is to be put to death." Yet the sin persists, hidden in shadows, thriving where good men do nothing.
But imagine, my brothers and sisters, a world where we do something. Where the Church rises, not just in prayer, but in action. Where we demand justice for the oppressed, where we shelter the vulnerable, where we refuse to let the powerful trample the weak. Imagine a world where the love of Christ compels us to dismantle the systems of exploitation, to stand between the oppressor and the victim, to be the hands and feet of the Savior in a broken world.
Yet if we fail—if we turn away, if we grow complacent—then the darkness will deepen. The wars will spread, the innocent will continue to perish, and the traffickers will grow bolder. The path we walk now leads either to redemption or ruin. The choice is ours.
And let us not forget, even within our own Church, the wounds that must be healed. Too often, scandal and division have weakened our witness. Too often, we have been slow to act, slow to repent, slow to embody the mercy we preach. Let this be the moment, dear faithful, where we recommit ourselves to purity, to justice, to true discipleship. Let us cleanse our own house so that we may better serve the world.
The hour is urgent. The time for half-hearted faith is over. We must be saints in the streets, prophets in the public square, warriors of mercy in a world desperate for light. Let us go forth, not in fear, but in the unshakable confidence that Christ has already won the victory—and He calls us to share in it.
Amen.
What can we do?
The suffering in our world can feel overwhelming, but each of us has the power to make a difference through small, intentional actions in our daily lives. Here are practical ways to contribute:
1. Violence and Innocent Lives Lost
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