Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters, gathered here in faith and in hope.
We live in a world that cries out—a world wounded by violence, scarred by injustice, and poisoned by corruption. We have seen how violence strikes even where voices gather, where the young seek direction, as in the tragic death of a young leader on a university campus. How can we not hear the echo of the Lord’s words: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God”? We are called not merely to mourn such acts, but to actively build peace—to be instruments of reconciliation in a world that too often chooses the sword over the olive branch.
We have witnessed, with heavy hearts, how the most vulnerable among us are used and discarded. Children—precious in the eyes of God—have been hidden away, torn from love, made pawns in schemes of power and control. How clearly then must we hear the voice of Christ: “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” Every child lost, every life oppressed, is a cry that reaches heaven. And it must move us to act—to protect, to restore, to defend the dignity of every human person, especially those who cannot speak for themselves.
And what of the moral decay that seeps into the highest places? We see it in the love of money, which Saint Paul tells us is “a root of all kinds of evil.” Gold bars, luxury cars, and bribes exchanged in shadow—these are not merely crimes; they are symptoms of a deeper sickness. A society that prizes wealth over integrity, power over principle, is a society adrift from God. When leaders fall, when trust is broken, the foundations of justice tremble. We must rebuild those foundations on the rock of truth, on the law of love.
Yet, my dear brothers and sisters, do not lose heart. For ours is not a faith of despair, but of divine promise. Imagine, if you will, a world transformed by grace. A world where peacemakers are honored in the public square, where children sleep safely in their beds, where leaders serve with humility and honesty. This is not a naive dream—it is the Kingdom of God breaking into our time, through the hands of good women and men who answer the call of Jesus. It is a world being built by those who feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, teach the ignorant, and forgive the sinner. It is a world being redeemed, one act of love at a time.
But such a world will not come without effort, without conversion, without sacrifice. And here, we in the Church must also look inward. One of the great trials we face in these times is the crisis of credibility—the failure of some within our own family to live the Gospel they preach. When trust is wounded among the faithful, the entire Body of Christ suffers. I call upon each of you—clergy and laity alike—to help restore that trust through transparency, through humility, through a return to the simplicity and sincerity of Christ. Be living witnesses of the truth you profess. Let your lives be a sermon more eloquent than your words.
For if we do not act—if we remain silent in the face of violence, passive before oppression, complacent amid corruption—then we risk a deeper darkness. A world without compassion grows cold; a society without justice descends into chaos; a Church without integrity loses its soul. We have been warned—not by a vengeful God, but by the consequences of our own indifference. The apocalypse is not only a divine revelation—it is what we create when we turn away from our responsibility to love.
But you, dear children of God, you are not indifferent. You are not passive. You are the peacemakers. You are the defenders of the weak. You are the rebuilders of trust. Go forth from this place with courage. Do not wait for another to begin the work. In your families, in your communities, in your nations—be the light. For the world is waiting for the Gospel—not only preached, but lived.
Amen.
What can we do?
In the face of violence and injustice, we must first cultivate peace within our own circles. Practice de-escalation in daily conflicts. Listen more than you speak, especially to those with opposing views. Support local organizations that mediate disputes or provide conflict resolution training. When you encounter hostility, respond with calmness and clarity, not with further division. Your personal commitment to being a peacemaker ripples outward, creating safer communities for everyone.
Regarding persecution and oppression, direct action matters. Research and support verified humanitarian organizations that work transparently in crisis zones. Advocate for vulnerable populations by contacting elected representatives and raising awareness through responsible sharing of information. In your own community, extend practical help to refugees and immigrants—offer language practice, mentorship, or simply friendship. Small, consistent acts of solidarity remind the oppressed they are not forgotten.
Confronting moral decay and corruption begins with personal integrity. Examine your own choices: reject the temptation to cut corners for financial gain, and prioritize ethics over convenience. Support businesses and leaders who demonstrate transparency and accountability. Teach the next generation—through word and example—that character matters more than wealth. When you witness corruption, report it through proper channels and encourage others to value honesty over short-term advantage.
Everyday faithfulness is not a grand gesture, but a series of conscious choices. Choose understanding over judgment, compassion over indifference, and principle over profit. Your daily actions, however small, contribute to a collective force for good.
Go in peace.
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