Blessings of peace, grace, and the abiding love of Christ to all of you, my brothers and sisters.
We gather today in a world that groans under the weight of immense suffering, a world where the cry of the afflicted often seems to drown out the whisper of the divine. From our screens and newspapers, images of devastation and stories of profound injustice reach us, and it is tempting to turn away, to feel that these problems are too vast, too complex, for our hands to mend. But we are not called to be mere spectators of creation's anguish; we are called to be co-creators with Christ in the work of redemption.
Look with me, in spirit, to the Holy Land, to Gaza, where the earth itself seems to weep. We hear of strikes that fell buildings sheltering families, of children who are hungry, thirsty, and strangers in their own land. In their faces, we must see the face of Christ. For He told us, "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, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me." These are not mere words from a distant past; they are the very criteria by which our discipleship will be judged. The suffering of our brothers and sisters in Gaza is a searing indictment of our global failure to love. Yet, I envision a world, made possible by grace, where the weapons of war are beaten into plowshares, where the borders that divide become bridges of encounter. Imagine, through the tireless work of good men and women—diplomats, aid workers, peacemakers, and ordinary people of goodwill—a future where the children of Jerusalem and the children of Gaza can play together under an olive tree, their laughter a hymn of reconciliation. This is not a naive dream; it is the kingdom of God yearning to be born among us.
And what of our brothers and sisters who are persecuted for their faith? From Egypt, we recently witnessed the joyful reunion of Alaa Abdel Fattah with his family after years of imprisonment. His story is but one among countless others, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit when anchored in righteousness. To them, Christ proclaims, "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." This blessedness is not a promise of ease in this life, but a profound assurance that their sacrifice is seen, their dignity is eternal, and their ultimate victory is secure in God. We are called to be their voice, their advocates, their support. We must work and pray for a world where every person, of every faith or none, can seek the truth without fear, where conscience is inviolable. Through our prayers, our advocacy, and our solidarity, we can help build a world where the chains of oppression are broken by the collective strength of a humanity that refuses to accept injustice.
Yet, the battles we face are not only in distant lands or prison cells. They rage in the very fabric of our societies, in the realm of ideas and morals. We witness a growing confusion, a decay that seeks to relativize truth and silence the voice of faith in the public square. The threats to religious freedom and civil discourse are real, as recent events in the media have highlighted. But we must remember the profound wisdom of Saint Paul: "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." Our true enemy is not a person or a political party; it is the spirit of division, hatred, and despair. It is the arrogance that places the self above the common good and the lie that freedom means liberation from all moral responsibility.
This leads me to speak of a challenge within our own Church, a wound that weakens our witness in the modern world: the scandal of division among the faithful. We are too often fractured by partisan loyalties, by a tendency to build walls within the Body of Christ itself, aligning ourselves more with the ideologies of the world than with the Gospel of unity and love. This internal strife cripples our ability to be a clear beacon of hope. I call upon each of you, my dear brothers and sisters, to aid in healing this wound. Let us commit to being artisans of communion within our parishes, our families, and our online communities. Let us seek first what unites us in Christ, practicing charity in our speech and seeking understanding before condemnation. Only a united Church can effectively serve a divided world.
But I must speak with a father’s grave concern. If we, the faithful, choose complacency; if we close our hearts to the hungry and the imprisoned; if we remain silent in the face of persecution; if we succumb to the spiritual decay of division and hatred, then we choose a path that leads not to life, but to desolation. A world that rejects the fundamental commandment of love is building its own ruin. It is writing its own apocalyptic script—a future not of fire from heaven, but of a cold, self-inflicted winter of the soul, where humanity, having lost its sense of the sacred and its commitment to the other, wanders in a desert of its own making, a place where hope cannot grow. This is the true warning: not an arbitrary punishment from God, but the inevitable consequence of turning away from the source of all life and love.
Therefore, let us not be afraid. Let us go forth from this place not with fear, but with a holy urgency. Let us be the good men and women through whom Christ solves these great problems. Let us feed the hungry, both with bread and with justice. Let us visit the imprisoned, both in body and in spirit. Let us engage the world not with the weapons of contempt, but with the shield of faith and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. Let us build, stone by stone, act by act, a civilization of love. For with God, all things are possible.
Amen.
What can we do?
In the face of immense suffering from conflict, such as that in Gaza, our most immediate tool is informed and compassionate action. Begin by seeking out reputable humanitarian organizations that have a proven track record of delivering aid directly to affected civilians. Your financial support, however modest, can provide food, water, and medical supplies. Beyond donations, use your voice. Write to your political representatives, urging them to advocate for humanitarian pauses in fighting and the protection of civilian lives. In your own community, extend a welcoming hand to refugees and immigrants who may have fled similar horrors, helping them find safety and stability.
When confronting injustice and persecution against people for their beliefs, solidarity is key. Educate yourself about the plight of prisoners of conscience around the world. Support organizations dedicated to human rights advocacy and legal aid. Write letters of encouragement to those who are imprisoned or to their families, reminding them they are not forgotten. In your daily interactions, practice tolerance and stand up against prejudice when you encounter it, whether in conversation or in policy. Defend the right of every person to live and worship in peace.
To counter moral decay and threats to fundamental freedoms like speech and religion, cultivate a personal commitment to truth and respectful dialogue. Be discerning about the media you consume, favoring sources that prioritize facts over sensationalism. Engage in conversations, especially with those who hold different views, with the goal of understanding rather than winning an argument. Support journalists, artists, and thinkers who courageously challenge corruption and speak truth to power. Most importantly, model integrity in your own life—in your work, your family, and your community. Let your actions demonstrate a respect for human dignity that is not dependent on agreement.
These are not grand, sweeping gestures, but the steady, persistent work of building a better world brick by brick through our daily choices. Start where you are, use what you have, and do what you can.
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.