Blessings of peace, grace, and the abiding love of our Lord Jesus Christ to all of you, my brothers and sisters, gathered here and across the world.
We gather today in a world that groans, a world that cries out for healing. We see the shadows of violence lengthen, from the streets of Islamabad where a bomb tore apart lives outside a hall of justice, leaving twelve children of God dead. We hear the cry of the earth itself, as in the Philippines, where the twenty-first typhoon of the season has taken more lives and shattered more communities, a relentless procession of natural fury that brings immense human suffering. And we witness the corrosion of our societies from within, where the sacred trust of leadership is betrayed for power and greed, as alleged in the courts of Istanbul, where thousands of years of potential imprisonment speak to a profound sickness in the body politic.
These are not distant headlines, my dear friends. They are the symptoms of a profound spiritual crisis. They are the echoes of a world that has, in so many ways, forgotten its Creator and the fundamental dignity of every person He created.
Look at the violence. It is the ultimate rejection of peace, the final surrender to the lie that destruction can bring resolution. But we are called to be children of God, and as the Scripture reminds us, "Blessed are the peacemakers." A peacemaker is not passive. A peacemaker is one who actively builds, who reconciles, who plants the seeds of understanding in the barren soil of hatred. When we see violence, our Christian duty is not to look away, but to become instruments of Christ’s peace—in our families, in our communities, by advocating for justice and education, by refusing the language of division, and by praying fervently for the conversion of hearts that are bent on destruction.
Consider the scourge of corruption. It is a betrayal that starves the poor, that robs the sick, that makes a mockery of justice and destabilizes nations. It whispers that the individual’s gain is worth the community’s loss. The wisdom of the ages tells us that "By justice a king gives a country stability, but those who are greedy for bribes tear it down." Each of us, in our own sphere, is called to be a pillar of that stability. We are called to integrity in our work, to honesty in our dealings, and to a fierce commitment to the common good over personal advantage. We must demand transparency from our leaders and, more importantly, live transparent lives ourselves.
And in the face of natural disasters and the suffering they bring, we hear the timeless truth that "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble." This is not a promise that we will be spared from trouble, but a pledge that we are not alone within it. Our faith is not a shelter from the storm, but the anchor in its midst. And that anchor must move us to action. It must compel us to be the ever-present help for our brothers and sisters who have lost everything. It calls us to support relief efforts, to open our hearts and our homes, and to champion the care of our common home, this wounded Earth, whose cries are becoming ever more urgent.
Let us envision, for a moment, the world Christ dreams of for us. Imagine a world where the energy that goes into building bombs is poured into building schools. Where the ingenuity used to hide bribes is used to feed the hungry. Where the global community responds to a typhoon with such swift and selfless unity that no one is left behind. This is not a naive fantasy. This is the Kingdom of God, and it is built by the hands of good men and women, animated by the Holy Spirit, following the example of Jesus. It is built by you.
Yet, we in the Church are not immune to the crises of the world. One of our own great trials in this modern time is the scandal of division—within our own communities and with our separated brethren. How can we preach reconciliation to a fractured world if we are ourselves fractured? How can we be a sign of unity in Christ if we are preoccupied with internal strife and polemics? This is a wound that weakens our witness and saddens the heart of the Lord. I call upon every one of you, the faithful, to aid in solving this. Be agents of communion, not division. Seek to understand before you seek to be understood. Practice charity in every discussion, and pray incessantly for the unity of all Christians, that the world may look at us and see, finally, the love for which Christ prayed.
But hear now a dire warning, my brothers and sisters, spoken not with relish, but with a heavy and prophetic heart. If we choose comfort over courage, if we choose silence over solidarity, if we choose the security of our own small worlds over the perilous but holy work of transforming the global society, then the shadows will deepen. The violence will not remain in distant lands; the corruption will poison the very wells of our communities; the natural world will react with ever-greater fury to our exploitation. We will find ourselves in a spiritual apocalypse—a world devoid of hope, where the light of faith grows dim, and the civilization of love we are called to build crumbles into a cold wasteland of indifference and despair. This is not God’s punishment, but the inevitable harvest of the seeds we failed to plant, the love we failed to give, the justice we failed to enact.
The choice is ours. This very moment. We stand at a crossroads. Will we be merely spectators to the decay, or will we be the peacemakers, the righteous, the compassionate hands and feet of Christ in a wounded world?
Let the memory of the martyrs, like Saint Josaphat who gave his life for the unity of the Church, inspire in us a similar courage. Let us not offer our lives in physical martyrdom, but let us offer our complacency, our indifference, and our fear on the altar of service. Let us go forth from this place not merely as hearers of the Word, but as its fearless and loving doers. Let us build, with the help of Jesus, the better world that is not only possible, but promised.
Amen.
What can we do?
When we hear news of violence claiming innocent lives, let us become creators of peace in our immediate circles. Begin by consciously rejecting aggressive language in your own conversations, whether online or in person. When conflicts arise in your workplace or family, practice being the one who listens first and seeks common ground. Support organizations that provide conflict resolution education in schools and communities. In your daily interactions, make an effort to understand those different from you - invite a colleague from another culture to share a meal, or visit a place of worship different from your own. Peace grows through these small, consistent actions.
Facing systemic corruption requires building integrity from the ground up. Start by examining your own ethical standards - refuse to participate in even minor dishonest practices like tax evasion or taking unfair advantages. Support transparent businesses and hold local representatives accountable by attending town meetings and asking thoughtful questions. Use your professional skills to assist organizations that promote government transparency. Teach younger family members why honesty matters through your own example. When we each uphold integrity in our spheres of influence, we create ripples that can eventually transform larger systems.
When natural disasters bring suffering to distant communities, our response can be both immediate and lasting. Prepare your own household for emergencies while also supporting professional relief organizations financially. Develop practical skills like first aid or crisis counseling that could help others in distress. Reduce your environmental impact through daily choices - conserve energy, minimize waste, and support sustainable practices. Most importantly, maintain awareness of ongoing recovery efforts long after the news cameras leave, continuing support through donations or advocacy for resilient infrastructure development.
Each small act of conscience, each choice for compassion, each stand for integrity contributes to healing our world's wounds. We need not solve everything at once, but we must each do what we can where we are with what we have.
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.