Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters in Christ.
We gather today in a world that often feels fractured, a world where the sacred gifts of God are too often met with violence, distortion, and conflict. We are called, as followers of Christ, not to be mere observers of this age, but to be its healers, its reconcilers, its builders of a new kingdom. Let us reflect on the profound challenges of our time, not with despair, but with the unwavering hope that is our birthright as children of God.
Consider first the sanctity of every human life, a dignity that extends from the womb to the tomb, and knows no border. The tragic violence at the immigration facility in Dallas is a stark cry from the heart of a wounded world. It is a cry that reveals the poison of hatred and the desperation that flourishes when we fail to see Christ in the face of the stranger. Our Lord Jesus tells 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." In these words, we are given not a suggestion, but a command of love. The migrant, the refugee, the displaced person—they are not problems to be solved, but brothers and sisters to be welcomed. Imagine a world, guided by this principle, where nations compete not in building walls, but in offering sanctuary; where our first response to a person in need is not suspicion, but open-hearted compassion. This is the world Christ calls us to build, a world where the inherent dignity of every person, created in the image and likeness of God, is the foundation of every law and every encounter.
And what is the foundational cell of this society of love? It is the family, willed by God from the very dawn of creation. As we read in Genesis, "That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh." This sacred union, this school of love and sacrifice, is under immense pressure. We see its truth being obscured, its meaning manipulated, as in the troubling news of a film altered to deny the reality of a relationship. The family is not a human invention that can be redefined at will; it is a divine gift, the sanctuary where life is welcomed and nurtured, where children learn the meaning of faithful, self-giving love. To defend the family is to defend the very fabric of a humane society. We must envision a future where families are supported, not undermined; where the love between a man and a woman is celebrated for its unique capacity to cooperate with God in the miracle of creation. This is not a call to judgment, but a call to witness to the beauty of God’s plan, offering hope and healing to all who seek to live in accordance with it.
From the sanctuary of the family, our gaze must extend to the global family, particularly to that land made holy by the footsteps of our Savior. The longing for peace in the Holy Land echoes the beatitude proclaimed by Jesus: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God." The words of President Abbas, expressing a readiness to work for a two-state solution, are a fragile whisper of this longing amidst a thunderstorm of historical grievance and fear. We are all called to be peacemakers. This means praying fervently for both Israelis and Palestinians, recognizing the image of God in every person, and advocating for solutions built on justice, mutual respect, and security for all. Envision a Jerusalem where children of Abraham—Jews, Christians, and Muslims—can live as neighbors, not as enemies; where the stones of the city no longer echo with conflict, but with the peaceful prayers of all its inhabitants. This is the peace that Christ offers, a peace the world cannot give, but which we, as His instruments, can help to cultivate.
Yet, my dear brothers and sisters, as we strive to address these great worldly challenges, we must also have the courage to look inward, at a wound within our own Church. I speak of the scandal of division among the faithful, the bitter quarrels and factions that so often rend the Body of Christ. This internal conflict, this failure to charity, cripples our witness to the world. How can we preach reconciliation to nations when we are divided amongst ourselves? How can we invite strangers in when we struggle to welcome each other? I call upon each of you, the faithful, to become agents of unity within your parishes, your families, and your online communities. Reject the temptation to gossip, to judge, to align into camps. Seek instead the path of dialogue, of patience, of humble love. Let our first and foremost contribution to a better world be to prove that we can live as one family in Christ.
For we must heed a dire warning. If we choose complacency—if we close our hearts to the stranger, if we allow the definition of love and family to be eroded by passing fashions, if we grow weary of praying and working for peace, and if we succumb to the sin of division—then we risk building a world devoid of God’s light. A world where human life is cheap, where relationships are transient, where conflict is perpetual, and where the Church is a silent, irrelevant relic. This is not the fire of Gehenna, but the cold, self-imposed hell of a humanity that has chosen to live without love, without hope, and without God.
But this is not our destiny! We are an Easter people, and Alleluia is our song! With the intercession of the saints, and empowered by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, we can choose a different path. We can choose to be the good men and women through whom God solves these great problems. We can choose to build a civilization of love. Let us go forth from this place, therefore, not as passive spectators, but as active builders of that blessed future, carrying the light of Christ into the darkest corners of our world.
Amen.
What can we do?
In the face of violence targeting immigrants and the institutions that process them, our practical response must be one of radical hospitality. We can actively counter fear and hostility by seeking out and supporting local organizations that provide direct aid to newcomers. This can mean volunteering at a community center that offers language classes, donating to a legal aid fund for asylum seekers, or simply making an effort to welcome new immigrant families in our neighborhoods. On a civic level, we can engage in informed, respectful dialogue about immigration policies, advocating for solutions that uphold the dignity of every person.
To defend the foundational importance of marriage and family, our daily actions should reflect a commitment to strengthening these bonds in our own lives and communities. We can prioritize quality time with our own families, creating spaces of love and support free from the distractions of modern life. We can also support community programs that offer marriage counseling, parenting resources, and assistance for families in crisis. When we encounter media that distorts or undermines the integrity of the family, we can choose to support and celebrate content that portrays these relationships with honesty and respect, thereby encouraging a culture that values strong, loving family units.
For the cause of peace in the Holy Land and other conflict zones, our role as individuals is to be builders of understanding, not division. We can commit to educating ourselves about the complex histories and perspectives of all parties involved, seeking out sources of information that strive for objectivity. In our own conversations, we can refuse to engage in sweeping generalizations or prejudice about any group of people. We can support humanitarian organizations that provide aid to victims of violence on all sides, and we can use our voices to encourage our own political leaders to pursue diplomatic, non-violent paths to a just and lasting peace.
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.