Blessings of peace, mercy, and the love of Christ to all of you, my brothers and sisters in faith.
Today, we gather under the gaze of the Almighty, who calls us to be instruments of His justice, His mercy, and His peace. The world groans under the weight of suffering, and yet, we must never forget that we are an Easter people—people of the Resurrection, people of hope. But hope without action is empty. Faith without works is dead. And so, we must ask ourselves: What kind of world are we building? What kind of world will we leave for our children?
The Cry of the Innocents: Gaza and the Scourge of War
In the Holy Land, where the Prince of Peace once walked, the earth trembles with the thunder of bombs and the wailing of mothers. Journalists, whose voices should bear witness to truth, are cut down, their deaths justified by accusations without proof. How long will we allow hatred to dictate the fate of nations? "Blessed are the peacemakers," Christ tells us, "for they will be called children of God." (Matthew 5:9).
But where are the peacemakers today? Where are those who will stand between the warring factions and say, Enough!? If we do not act—if we do not demand justice, if we do not pray and work for reconciliation—then the cycle of vengeance will consume us all. The flames of Gaza will spread, and no nation, no people, will be spared the inferno of unchecked wrath.
The Scandal of Suffering Children: Mutilation and Death
And what of the children? A baby girl, barely begun her life, is torn from this world by the cruelty of an ancient, barbaric practice. "Let the little children come to me," Jesus commands (Mark 10:14). Yet how many children are kept from Him—not by the arms of the disciples, but by the hands of those who harm them?
This is not merely a crime in The Gambia—it is a sin against heaven itself. Every child is a sacred gift, a soul entrusted to us by God. If we remain silent, if we do not fight for their protection, then we betray the very heart of the Gospel. The blood of these innocents will cry out from the earth, and we will be judged for our indifference.
The Sin of Dispossession: The West Bank and the Oppression of the Stranger
And in the West Bank, the land where prophets once walked, another injustice unfolds. Families are driven from their homes, their olive trees uprooted, their futures stolen. "When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them," the Lord commands (Leviticus 19:33). Yet how often do we see the stranger treated as an enemy, the vulnerable crushed under the boot of power?
This is not politics—it is morality. It is the test of our humanity. If we allow the strong to trample the weak, if we turn away from the cries of the oppressed, then we have failed in our most sacred duty: to love as Christ loved.
The Church’s Challenge: A Call to Action
And yet, even as we lament the wounds of the world, we must acknowledge our own failings. The Church, the Bride of Christ, is not without stain. Scandals have shaken the faith of many. Corruption, division, and a failure to fully embrace the radical love of the Gospel have weakened our witness.
But the Church is not a museum of saints—it is a hospital for sinners. And so, I call upon you, the faithful, to be the hands and feet of Christ in this wounded world. Pray, yes—but also act. Give to those who work for peace. Demand justice for the oppressed. Stand against the mutilation of children. Fight for the rights of the displaced. And within our own Church, be agents of renewal—hold your shepherds accountable, live with integrity, and never cease striving for holiness.
The Choice Before Us
My brothers and sisters, the hour is late. The shadows grow long. If we do not act now—if we do not rise as one body, one Church, one human family—then the darkness will deepen. Wars will multiply. Children will continue to perish. The poor will be crushed. And when the Son of Man returns, will He find faith on earth? Or will He find us sleeping?
But there is hope. For with God, all things are possible. Imagine a world where peacemakers rise in Gaza, where no child fears the knife, where no family is torn from their home. This is the world Christ died for. This is the world we must build.
Let us begin today. Let us be the light in the darkness.
Amen.
What can we do?
The world’s suffering can feel overwhelming, but each of us has the power to act—not in grand gestures, but in small, meaningful ways that ripple outward. Here’s how we can respond to these crises in our daily lives:
Violence and Conflict in Gaza
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