Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters in Christ.
We gather today in a world that groans with a profound and troubling dissonance. From the highest halls of power, we hear declarations that "war is over," and yet, we know that in the hearts of countless men and women, and in the scarred lands of places like Gaza, the true peace of Christ remains a distant dream. We are told of ceasefires, and we pray they hold, but we must ask ourselves: what is the nature of the peace we seek? Is it merely the absence of open conflict, a quiet born of exhaustion? Or is it the vibrant, active, and demanding peace that our Lord Jesus Christ bestowed upon us? "Blessed are the peacemakers," He told us, "for they will be called children of God." A peacemaker does not simply hope for quiet; a peacemaker builds, reconciles, forgives, and labors tirelessly for justice. A peacemaker confronts the roots of hatred and sows the seeds of understanding. To hear that leaders are working for a ceasefire is a moment for which we give thanks, but it is also a call to action for every one of us. We must become those peacemakers in our own families, our communities, and our world. We must be the ones who refuse the easy language of division and instead speak the difficult words of healing.
And while some conflicts capture the world's attention, others burn with a quieter, more insidious flame. We see it in the persecution of our brothers and sisters in faith across the globe, and in the tragic destruction of sacred spaces, like the historic Bernaga Monastery, consumed by fire. These stones and stained glass are more than architecture; they are vessels of prayer, monuments to centuries of faithfulness. Their loss is a profound sorrow, a wound to the Body of Christ. And in this, we hear the echo of the Lord's words, "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." This beatitude is not a promise of a life free from suffering; it is a divine affirmation that suffering borne for the sake of truth and love is not in vain. It is joined to the Cross of Christ and becomes, mysteriously and powerfully, a source of grace for the whole world. When one part of the Body suffers, we all suffer. Let the smoke rising from that monastery be a signal fire calling us to greater solidarity, to fervent prayer, and to active support for all who are persecuted for their faith.
Yet, the flames that threaten our world are not only physical. There is a spiritual conflagration spreading, a deep moral decay that manifests in a turning away from the one true God. We see it in the rise of new and ancient forms of idolatry, where people, lost and seeking solace, bow down not to the Creator, but to created things. The news of shamans openly using psychedelic drugs for treatment speaks to a deep, aching hunger for transcendence, for healing, for an escape from pain. But this is a false worship. It is the age-old temptation, as old as the commandment given to Moses: "You shall have no other gods before me." Today, our false gods are not only carved from wood or stone; they are the gods of instant gratification, of esoteric experience divorced from truth, of a self-made spirituality that rejects the loving authority of God the Father. We worship the god of pleasure, the god of power, the god of our own ego. This is the great apostasy of our time—not a rejection of religion, but a fragmentation into a million private religions where the self is the sole deity. This path does not lead to healing; it leads to deeper fragmentation, to spiritual chaos, and to a society unmoored from the foundational truths of human dignity and divine love.
But my dear brothers and sisters, do not lose heart! We are an Easter people, and "Alleluia" is our song! I envision a world, not of despair, but of glorious hope. I see a world where the peacemakers, strengthened by the sacraments, have dismantled the machinery of war and replaced it with the architecture of encounter. I see a world where the persecuted Church is not a remnant in hiding, but a vibrant, flourishing testament to the power of the Resurrection. I see a world where the human heart, finally weary of its empty idols, turns back to the loving embrace of our Father, finding in the Eucharist the true fulfillment of every longing. This is not a naive dream. This is the Kingdom of God, and it is within our reach if we, the faithful, cooperate with the grace of Jesus Christ. He has already won the victory. We are merely His laborers in the vineyard.
To build this world, we must first look within our own home, within our Holy Church. One of the great challenges we face in the modern era is the scandal of division—not only the tragic schisms of the past, but the quiet, insidious divisions we foster among ourselves. We fracture into factions, we judge one another with harshness, and we allow the political and social battles of the world to create walls within the very Body that is meant to be the sacrament of unity for the world. This weakens our witness. It muffles our prophetic voice. I call upon every one of you, my brothers and sisters, to become apostles of unity. In your parishes, in your families, online and in person, seek first to understand, then to be understood. Let charity be your first principle. Let the unity of the Trinity be the model for all our relationships. Heal this wound within us, so that we may be a more credible instrument of healing for the world.
For if we do not act, if we remain complacent in our comforts and silent in the face of injustice, a darker vision awaits. If we do not become peacemakers, the wars of today will be but a prelude to a world perpetually at war, where children know only fear and the image of God in every person is trampled into the dust. If we abandon our persecuted brethren, the light of faith will be extinguished in nation after nation, leaving a spiritual darkness that no earthly power can illuminate. And if we continue to bow before our modern idols of materialism, power, and selfishness, we will not simply be a society in decline; we will be a people under judgment. We will have chosen chaos over creation, noise over the Word, and the fleeting pleasure that ends in ash over the eternal love that brings life everlasting. The apocalypse is not merely a prophecy of a distant future; it is the natural and spiritual consequence of a humanity that turns its back on its Creator.
Therefore, let us go forth from this place not as a passive audience, but as an army of love. Let us be builders of peace, companions to the persecuted, and tireless witnesses to the one true God. Let us heal the divisions among us and offer the world a beacon of unity. The future is not a fate that befalls us; it is a choice we make every day. Let us choose, with the help of our Lord Jesus Christ, the path that leads to life. Let us choose to build His Kingdom.
Amen.
What can we do?
In our world of conflict and fragile peace agreements, each of us can become architects of reconciliation in our daily circles. When you encounter disagreements at work or within your family, practice being the first to seek understanding rather than victory. Listen deeply to those with opposing views without immediately preparing your rebuttal. Support organizations that provide humanitarian aid in war-torn regions through regular donations, and educate yourself about the root causes of conflicts rather than relying on sensationalized headlines. In your community, create spaces where diverse groups can gather and find common ground - whether through interfaith dialogues, cultural exchanges, or simple neighborhood gatherings that break down barriers of suspicion.
Regarding those who suffer for their beliefs, let your response be practical solidarity. Research and support organizations that provide legal assistance and relocation help for persecuted religious minorities. In your own workplace and social networks, be vigilant against religious discrimination and speak up when you see someone being marginalized for their faith. Offer practical help to religious communities rebuilding after disasters - whether through financial contributions, volunteering your skills, or simply showing up to help clean and rebuild. Most importantly, cultivate relationships with people of different faith backgrounds to better understand their experiences and challenges.
Concerning the confusion in spiritual seeking and moral direction, your role is to embody grounded compassion. Rather than condemning those drawn to questionable spiritual practices, recognize that such searching often comes from genuine hunger for meaning and healing. Support mental health resources in your community and reduce stigma around seeking professional psychological help. In your own life, practice discernment about what you give your attention and energy to - examine whether modern idols of consumerism, fame, or power might be distracting you from deeper values. Model balanced living where technology, work, and possessions serve rather than dominate human dignity and relationships. Support ethical scientific research and legitimate medical practices that respect human dignity while providing compassionate care for those suffering.
These practical steps, woven into the fabric of ordinary days, create ripples that extend far beyond what we can immediately see. Each conscious choice for peace, each act of solidarity, each moment of grounded compassion contributes to healing our wounded world.
Go in peace.
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