Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters in Christ.
We gather today in a world that groans under the weight of its own brokenness. We see the shadows of violence lengthening across the Holy Land, where the sacred ground cries out for the footsteps of peacemakers, not the tread of armies. We hear the echo of our Lord’s words, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God,” and we must ask ourselves: where are the children of God? Where are those who will stand in the breach and build bridges where others build walls? The call to arms has gone out to tens of thousands; when will the call to peace, the true call of Christ, summon a legion of the faithful to pray, to advocate, to demand reconciliation over retaliation?
Our gaze then turns to the suffering innocents, to the villages of the Democratic Republic of Congo, where the image of God in humanity is desecrated by the sword. One hundred and forty children of God, our brothers and sisters, cut down. When we hear of such atrocities, we must hear the voice of Christ speaking to us directly from the Gospel: “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” They were the least of these. They were Christ. And in their suffering, Christ is crucified anew. We cannot turn away. We cannot become numb to the reports of faraway pain. Our faith demands that we feel this agony as our own, for in the mystical body of Christ, it is our own.
And what of the defense of life and dignity in our daily bread? Even the food we place on our tables, meant to nourish the temple of the Holy Spirit, can become an instrument of harm. When corporations neglect their sacred duty to protect the health of the human person, when profit is placed above the sanctity of the body, which is not our own but was “bought at a price,” we see a profound disrespect for the gift of life itself. This is not merely a failure of safety protocols; it is a failure of moral vision, a symptom of a culture that has forgotten that every human life is a sanctuary.
I tell you now, with a heart both heavy with warning and buoyed by hope, that a crossroads stands before humanity. One path is bathed in the light of Christ, a path where we, as His hands and feet, work tirelessly to bind these wounds. Envision with me that world! A world where the children of Jerusalem and Gaza play together in safety, where the fields of Congo yield harvests, not graves, and where every meal is a testament to our care for God’s creation. This is not a naive dream; this is the Kingdom of God, and it is built by the daily, courageous choices of good men and women infused with God’s grace. It is built by you.
But there is another path, a path of shadow and fire. If we choose complacency, if we allow our hearts to be hardened by distance or despair, then we choose a different future. A future where the violence we ignore today will find its way to our doorsteps tomorrow. A future where the dignity we fail to defend for the stranger is eventually stripped from us all. A future where the earth itself, poisoned by our greed and indifference, turns against us. This is not the wrath of a vengeful God; it is the tragic, logical consequence of a humanity that has turned its back on love. We will have chosen the apocalypse ourselves.
And within our own Holy Church, we face a crisis that weakens our ability to be this beacon of hope. We suffer from a poverty of engagement, a silence where there should be proclamation. Too many of the faithful have become spectators of their faith, content to receive grace but hesitant to be channels of it. The world is dying of thirst, and we possess the living water, yet we often hide the well. I call on you, my brothers and sisters—do not let your faith be a private comfort. Let it be a public force. Engage with your parishes, not as guests but as stewards. Evangelize through your radical charity and unwavering joy. Demand of your shepherds, including myself, to lead with courage and transparency, and support us with your prayers and your active partnership. The Church does not need an audience; it needs an army of saints.
Let us leave this place not merely moved, but mobilized. Let us be the peacemakers in a world of conflict. Let us see the face of Christ in the suffering and act. Let us honor God with our bodies and our world by demanding dignity for all. The problems are vast, but our God is vaster. The night is dark, but Christ is the light no darkness can overcome. Let us go forth now, and be that light for the world.
Amen.
What can we do?
In the face of violence and conflict, your most powerful tool is your voice. Contact your elected representatives and urge them to support diplomatic solutions and humanitarian aid over military escalation. Donate to organizations providing medical care, food, and shelter to civilians caught in war zones, regardless of which side of a border they are on. Consume news from a variety of sources to understand the complex roots of conflict and avoid dehumanizing any group of people.
When you learn of the suffering of innocents, support becomes action. Research and financially back international human rights organizations and aid groups that have a proven track record of effective, on-the-ground assistance. Raise awareness within your own community by sharing verified information from these reputable sources. Consider if your skills—be they legal, medical, or logistical—could be volunteered to organizations helping refugees and survivors rebuild their lives.
Defending life and dignity begins at your own table and in your own home. Become a more conscious consumer. Research the sources of your food and products, supporting companies with transparent and ethical supply chains. Reduce waste and properly dispose of medications and chemicals to protect the water supply for your community. Advocate for stronger food safety and environmental regulations by joining consumer advocacy groups and signing petitions that hold corporations accountable for public health.
These are not distant, abstract problems. They are issues woven into the fabric of our global community, and our daily choices are the threads we can adjust. Your conscious effort, however small it seems, contributes to a collective force for good.
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.