Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters, on this Saturday, a day to rest in the Lord and reflect on the state of our world and our duty within it.
We gather today in a world fractured by division, a world where the cry of the suffering echoes across continents, where the innocent are crushed under the weight of greed and hatred. We see the specter of war rising once more, as leaders reject the outstretched hand of peace and choose instead the path of confrontation. The words of our Lord ring with painful clarity: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God." Yet, where are the peacemakers? They are not only in halls of power; they are here, in this very congregation. They are in every heart that refuses to accept conflict as inevitable, in every voice that prays for reconciliation over retaliation, in every hand that builds bridges where others would build walls. Imagine, dear faithful, a world where the energy spent on mobilizing armies is spent on mobilizing compassion; where borders are not lines of defense but seams of fellowship. This is not a naive dream. This is the Kingdom of God, and it is built by you.
We hear, too, the chilling reports of persecution, of unspeakable crimes against humanity. Our brothers and sisters are besieged, their dignity stripped away, their bodies violated. To them, Christ speaks directly: "Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." When we hear these accounts and feel a pang of sorrow before turning the page, we turn away from Christ Himself. He is in the refugee camp. He is in the hospital without medicine. He is in the cell, forgotten. To envision a world without this injustice is to envision a world where the global family of the Church acts as one body—where a wound to one is a call to action for all. We must be a Church that does not merely send thoughts and prayers, but one that sends advocates, resources, and relentless, courageous love.
This leads us to the treatment of the stranger, the immigrant, those who seek a better life only to find suspicion and chains. The law of God is clear and ancient: "The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself." Yet, we see raids and detention, families torn apart, human beings treated as problems to be managed rather than persons to be welcomed. This is a failure of moral imagination and a betrayal of our own history. We were all foreigners in the spiritual Egypt of sin, and God liberated us. How can we now build a new Egypt for others? We must envision a world where our policies reflect our piety, where our borders are marked by mercy, and our communities are enriched by the very diversity that fear seeks to reject.
Yet, in facing these global crises, we in the Church must also have the courage to look inward. One of the great challenges we face in the modern world is a crisis of credibility—a wound born of our own failings, where the light of our message has been dimmed by the shadow of scandal. We must be a Church that is not only a teacher of truth but a transparent exemplar of it. I call upon every one of you, the faithful, to aid in solving this. Be living examples of integrity, humility, and service. Demand it of your shepherds, and support them when they strive for it. Help rebuild the trust that has been fractured, so that our voice for peace and justice may be strong and clear, untainted by hypocrisy.
But hear now a solemn warning, my dear children. If we choose complacency; if we hear the cries of the war-torn and change the channel; if we see the persecuted and simply say, "What a tragedy," and do nothing; if we witness the humiliation of the immigrant and look away; if we ignore the call to purify our own house—then we are not merely inactive. We are complicit. We are building a world not of God’s Kingdom, but of man’s despair. A world where violence begets violence, injustice becomes the norm, and the human heart grows cold and closed. This is not a future God wills for us. It is a path we choose by our inaction, and it leads only to a spiritual desolation, a living apocalypse where hope is extinguished.
But this is not our fate! For we are an Easter people, and Alleluia is our song! The same Jesus who calmed the stormy sea can calm the storms of our world, but He chooses to work through our hands. He invites us to be co-creators of a new reality. Let us leave this place not with heavy hearts, but with determined spirits. Let us be the peacemakers in our families and communities. Let us be the defenders of the persecuted through our advocacy and aid. Let us be the welcoming committee for the stranger. Let us be the agents of renewal and transparency within our beloved Church.
Go forth, and build the world as it should be, as God dreams it to be.
Amen.
What can we do?
In the face of war and violence, we can actively choose peace in our own spheres. Support organizations that provide humanitarian aid to conflict zones, and amplify voices that advocate for dialogue over destruction. In your daily interactions, practice de-escalation—resolve conflicts with words, not anger. Refuse to spread hatred or misinformation, and instead promote understanding and empathy in your community.
When confronted with persecution and injustice, stand with the oppressed. Donate to or volunteer with groups that provide legal aid, shelter, and resources to victims. Educate yourself on human rights issues and use your voice—whether in conversations, on social media, or by contacting representatives—to demand accountability and justice. Small acts of solidarity matter; even sharing verified information can raise awareness and inspire action.
Regarding moral and ethical concerns in immigration, extend compassion to newcomers in your community. Support local initiatives that help immigrants integrate—offer language practice, assist with job searches, or simply be a welcoming neighbor. Advocate for fair and humane immigration policies by staying informed and engaging with lawmakers. Challenge stereotypes and prejudices when you encounter them, and recognize the shared humanity in every person you meet.
Each of us, through conscious daily choices, can contribute to a world that is more just, peaceful, and compassionate. Your actions, however small they may seem, create ripples that can grow into waves of meaningful change.
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.