Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters, on this holy Sunday, as we gather in the spirit of reflection and renewal.
We live in a world that cries out—a world where the innocent are struck down in places of learning, where those who bring the light of Christ to the darkest corners face persecution and captivity, and where the very sanctuaries meant to be havens of peace are violated by hatred and violence. We have seen the face of this sorrow in Minneapolis, where young lives—precious children like Fletcher and Harper—were torn from this world in a place meant for growth, for joy, for safety. The Lord’s words echo with chilling clarity: "But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea." This is not merely a condemnation; it is a divine warning of the gravity of harming the innocent.
We have also witnessed the courage of missionaries like Gena Heraty, who, in the name of Christ, endure hatred, captivity, and suffering. Their sacrifice reminds us that to follow Jesus is often to walk a path of trial. "And ye shall be hated of all men for my name’s sake: but he that endureth to the end shall be saved." In their endurance, we see a reflection of Christ’s own passion—a love so profound it embraces even persecution.
And what of our sacred spaces? The attack at Annunciation Catholic School was not only an assault on innocent life but a desecration of a place consecrated to God’s work. As the Psalm laments, "They said in their hearts, Let us destroy them together: they have burned up all the synagogues of God in the land." When hatred seeks to tear down what faith has built, it strikes not only at bricks and mortar but at the very soul of community.
Yet, my dear brothers and sisters, we are not without hope. For our faith teaches us that these sorrows are not the end of the story. Imagine, if you will, a world transformed by grace—a world where schools are truly sanctuaries of learning and love, where missionaries are welcomed as bearers of hope rather than met with violence, and where every church, synagogue, and mosque stands unmolested as a testament to humanity’s yearning for the divine. This is not a naive dream. This is the kingdom we are called to build—here and now—through the love of Christ and the courage of good women and men.
But to achieve this, we must first look within our own Church. One of the great challenges we face in these modern times is the crisis of faith among the young—the drifting away of so many who feel the Church is distant, irrelevant, or silent in the face of their struggles. We cannot allow this separation to continue. I call upon each of you—parents, grandparents, teachers, and lay ministers—to reach out, to listen, to accompany our youth with patience and love. Let us rebuild their trust not with words alone, but with actions that reflect the compassion and inclusivity of Christ.
For if we do not act—if we remain indifferent to the suffering of the innocent, if we abandon those who risk everything to spread the Gospel, if we permit the erosion of faith in the next generation—then we risk a spiritual desolation far more terrifying than any material disaster. A world without compassion is a world without God. A society that forgets the sacredness of life and spirit will find itself adrift in darkness, where violence begets violence, despair begets despair, and the light of humanity grows dim.
But that is not the future we will accept. On this Sunday, let us recommit ourselves to being instruments of peace, healers of wounds, and builders of hope. Let us support one another, pray without ceasing, and work tirelessly so that the words of the prophets and the promise of Christ may become a living reality.
For with Jesus’s help, and through the workings of good people, even the deepest wounds can be healed, and even the darkest nights can give way to dawn.
Amen.
What can we do?
When we see violence claiming innocent lives, particularly children, we must become active guardians of safety in our communities. Volunteer with youth programs, support mental health initiatives, and advocate for sensible protections in schools and public spaces. Report concerning behavior when you see it, and create environments where children feel seen, heard, and valued.
When missionaries and aid workers face persecution while serving the most vulnerable, we can support organizations that provide security training and crisis response. Donate to legitimate humanitarian groups, write to elected officials advocating for protection of aid workers, and educate others about the sacrifices made by those serving in dangerous regions.
When religious institutions come under attack, we must stand in solidarity across faith traditions. Attend interfaith events, get to know your neighbors of different beliefs, and support security measures for places of worship. Most importantly, create communities where differences are respected and where no one feels isolated or marginalized.
These are not grand gestures, but daily commitments: noticing those around us, speaking up for the vulnerable, supporting those who serve, and building bridges where others would build walls. Every small act of protection, every gesture of solidarity, every moment of courageous compassion matters profoundly.
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.