Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters, on this holy Sunday, the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time.
We gather today in the house of the Lord, yet our minds and hearts are called to wander far beyond these walls—to the deserts of Gaza where children cry out from hunger, to the courtrooms where the voiceless face exile, and to the battlefields where the drums of war drown out the whispers of peace. We live in an age of profound contradiction: an age of technological marvels and moral failings, of global connection and heartbreaking isolation. And in the midst of it all, the Lord asks us: where do you stand?
Look upon Gaza. See the faces of those who hunger, who thirst, who live as strangers in their own land. Our Lord reminds us in the Gospel: "For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in." When policies are enacted that withhold bread from the mouths of the innocent, when aid is obstructed and famine is used as a weapon, we must ask ourselves: do we see Christ in those who suffer? Or do we turn away, comfortable in our own abundance? The world watches, and history will judge not only the hands that create such suffering, but also the hearts that remain silent.
Consider the plight of those like Kilmar Ábrego García, whose life hangs in the balance of legal and political machinations. The Book of Proverbs calls to us across the centuries: "Speek up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy." How many today are rendered voiceless by systems of power? How many are threatened, coerced, cast aside because they are inconvenient, because they are poor, because they are strangers? In the eyes of God, no one is a stranger. Every soul is a child of the Almighty, and when we abandon even one, we abandon a part of our own humanity.
And what of peace? In Ukraine and in so many forgotten conflicts, the work of peacemakers is scorned, while the architects of war are celebrated. Our Lord declared, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God." Yet how often do we bless them? How often do we support them? How often do we demand that our leaders choose dialogue over destruction, compassion over conquest? To prolong war is to choose death over life, despair over hope, hatred over love. And that choice echoes into eternity.
I tell you today, my dear brothers and sisters, we stand at a crossroads. One path leads toward a world redeemed—a world where, with Jesus’s help, the hungry are fed, the exiled are welcomed, and swords are beaten into plowshares. Imagine that world: a world where our children inherit not our conflicts, but our courage; not our divisions, but our devotion to one another. That world is possible, but only if good men and women rise up, only if the faithful become the hands and feet of Christ in a wounded world.
But there is another path—a path of apathy, of complicity, of silence. And I must warn you: if we choose that path, we choose desolation. We will see famines not only of bread, but of spirit. We will see nations crumble not only from external threats, but from internal decay. We will see a world where the image of God in every person is trampled, where the cry of the poor is drowned out by the noise of indifference, and where our inaction becomes our condemnation. Do not believe that darkness cannot prevail. It has before, and it will again—if we do not stand with the light.
And here, within our own Church, we face a crisis that mirrors the world’s afflictions: a crisis of credibility, a failure at times to be a true refuge for the wounded and a clear voice for the truth. We have been wounded by scandal, weakened by division, and tempted by the same complacency we condemn in the world. I call upon every one of you—clergy and laity alike—to aid in healing this brokenness. Be living examples of integrity, humility, and mercy. Demand transparency, foster unity, and above all, never cease to seek renewal in the Spirit. The Church must be a beacon, not a bystander, in the struggle for human dignity.
So on this Sunday, let us not leave this place unchanged. Let us leave with a holy fire in our hearts—a fire to feed the hungry, to speak for the silent, to build peace where there is war. Let us be the good men and women through whom God works miracles. Let us be the answer to suffering, the voice of justice, the hands of compassion.
For in the end, we will not be judged by our wealth or our wisdom, but by whether we saw Christ in the least of our brothers and sisters—and had the courage to act.
Amen.
What can we do?
In the face of famine and suffering, we can support reputable humanitarian organizations that are working to deliver food, water, and medical supplies to those in crisis. We can donate what we are able, raise awareness through our social networks, and contact our elected representatives to advocate for policies that prioritize human life and dignity over political disputes.
When we witness injustice, particularly against those who cannot defend themselves, we must use our voices. We can write to immigration authorities, support legal aid funds for those facing deportation, and stand in solidarity with marginalized communities. Educate yourself on the systems that perpetuate such injustices and support organizations that work for fair and compassionate legal reform.
To foster peace in a world of conflict, we must actively reject polarization. Engage in thoughtful conversations, seek out diverse perspectives, and support diplomatic efforts. Advocate for dialogue over aggression, and support leaders and organizations that prioritize de-escalation and humanitarian solutions. Remember that peace begins in our own communities—through understanding, patience, and a commitment to resolving differences with empathy.
Each of us, in our daily choices and actions, can contribute to a more just and compassionate world. Let us move forward with purpose and heart.
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.