Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters.
We gather today under the gaze of our loving God, a God who so loved the world that He sent His only Son to redeem it. Yet, as we look upon this world, our hearts are pierced by thorns of sorrow and conflict. We see a world groaning, a creation yearning for the freedom and glory of the children of God. In this sacred assembly, let us contemplate three profound wounds upon the body of humanity, and then, with eyes of faith, envision the healing that is possible when we, the faithful, become true instruments of Christ’s peace.
First, we behold the bitter persecution of our brothers and sisters in faith and the assault on religious freedom itself. In the very land where angels sang “Gloria in excelsis Deo,” the lights of the Christmas tree in Bethlehem were extinguished for years, silenced by the drumbeat of war. Public celebration of the Prince of Peace was deemed impossible. This is but one shadow in a world where many are persecuted for righteousness' sake. They are blessed, as the Lord Himself proclaimed, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. But their blessing is a searing challenge to our comfort. Their silenced songs are a deafening cry to our conscience. When any person, of any creed, is denied the fundamental right to seek God, to worship, and to celebrate their deepest convictions in peace, the dignity of all humanity is diminished.
Secondly, we witness a profound disrespect for the sanctity of human life and the divine image stamped upon every soul. From the very first breath of creation, we are told that mankind is made in God’s own image. This is the unshakeable foundation of human dignity. Yet, how casually this truth is discarded! We hear of political opponents dying in custody, their lives extinguished not by illness or accident, but under the weight of oppression. Every such death is a vile act, a direct assault on the image of God. When a human being is treated as a problem to be eliminated, rather than a person to be respected, we descend into a culture of death that cheapens all life, from the womb to the prison cell to the hospice.
Thirdly, we confront a deep confusion in our societies regarding the moral purpose of the human person. The Apostle Paul reminds us that our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit. We are not our own masters in a license of absolute freedom; we are stewards of a sacred gift, bought at a great price. This truth calls for a reverence for the human person, body and soul. Yet, we see this reverence twisted into tools of control on one hand, and on the other, rejected in a pursuit of a freedom devoid of truth. The arrest of women for how they dress in one place stands in tragic contrast to a world elsewhere that often reduces the body to a mere instrument for pleasure or commerce. Both extremes fail to see the temple. Both fail to honor God with the gift of our humanity.
My dear friends, these are dire signs. If we continue on this path—if we remain indifferent to the persecuted, silent before the destruction of life, and confused about the purpose of our own humanity—we are building a world of shadows. We risk constructing a human civilization without a soul, a global society governed by power, fear, and fleeting desire, which can only end in the apocalyptic silence of despair, conflict, and spiritual ruin. The warning is clear: without a return to the foundational truths of God’s love and the dignity of the person, our world will not simply stagnate; it will unravel.
But we are people of the Resurrection! We do not speak of wounds without believing in the Healer. Let us, with the eyes of hope given to us by Christ, envision a different world. Imagine a world where, with Jesus’s help and through the courageous works of good men and women, these wounds are healed.
See in your hearts a world where the lights of Bethlehem shine perpetually, not just on a tree, but in every land where people of faith can lift their voices in joyful worship without fear. A world where the image of God in every person—the political prisoner, the unborn child, the migrant, the elderly—is seen, protected, and cherished as the most sacred reality. A world where our bodies, our relationships, and our societies are ordered not by coercion or selfishness, but by the loving design of the Creator, leading to true freedom and flourishing.
To build this world, the Church itself must be a pure and effective instrument. And here, I must speak of a grave illness within our own family: the scandal of division among the faithful. Our internal strife, our factions, our willingness to tear one another apart over secondary matters while the world burns—this paralyzes our witness. It is a cancer that saps our strength and mutes our prophetic voice. How can we preach reconciliation to the world when we are divided? How can we be a sign of unity in Christ when we are fragmented? I call upon every one of you, my brothers and sisters, to aid in solving this. Let your first act for a better world be to strive for profound charity and unity within the Church. Forgive one another. Listen to one another. Seek communion, not victory. Only a united Church can heal a divided world.
Therefore, let us depart from this place not with heavy hearts, but with fired spirits. Let the plight of the persecuted move you to prayer and advocacy. Let the violation of human dignity compel you to defend life in all its stages. Let the confusion of our age inspire you to live, with joy and clarity, the truth of your body as a temple of God. And let it all begin with a relentless commitment to unity and love within this Body of Christ.
On this day, we recall in a special way the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. She, the perfect temple, the unshadowed image of grace, shows us the destiny of humanity when it fully cooperates with God’s will. From her “yes” sprang the Savior. From our “yes”—our active, courageous, united faith—can spring a renewal of the face of the earth.
The world waits in hopeful expectation. Let us not keep it waiting any longer. Go forth, and build the civilization of love.
Amen.
What can we do?
In the face of events that challenge religious freedom, the protection of human life, and the moral fabric of our communities, our faith calls us not to despair but to practical, daily action. Our contribution is not found in grand gestures alone, but in the consistent, quiet witness of our ordinary lives. Here is how we can begin.
First, regarding the persecution of our brothers and sisters in faith and the suppression of religious expression: make your own faith visible and public in a joyful, inviting way. Attend your local parish events and support public celebrations of faith in your own community. When these lights are dimmed elsewhere, let them shine brighter where you are. Educate yourself about the realities of religious persecution worldwide through reliable sources. Then, use your voice. Write respectful, informed letters to your elected representatives, urging them to prioritize religious freedom in foreign policy. Support, through donations or volunteer work, reputable international charities that provide direct aid and advocacy for persecuted communities. In your daily interactions, be a model of respect. Defend the right of all people—of any faith or none—to worship in peace, and gently correct misconceptions about religion you may encounter.
Second, in response to assaults on human life and dignity, where individuals are stripped of their freedom and safety: become a relentless defender of the inherent worth of every person. This starts locally. Visit the sick and the lonely. Volunteer at or donate to a shelter, a soup kitchen, or a pregnancy support center—any organization that serves the marginalized and affirms their dignity. In your conversations, refuse to engage in or tolerate dehumanizing language about any group of people, whether prisoners, migrants, or political opponents. Advocate for just and humane conditions in prisons everywhere by supporting criminal justice reform initiatives. Practice seeing the image of God in the most difficult person you meet each day, and treat them with the corresponding respect. This daily discipline of seeing dignity where others might not is a powerful counter-witness to a culture of disposal.
Third, concerning moral tensions within societies, where the treatment of the human person and the body becomes a point of conflict: cultivate a personal and communal reverence for the gift of the human person. This means making choices that honor your own physical and spiritual well-being—caring for your health, fostering wholesome relationships, and consuming media that uplifts rather degrades. In your family and friendships, create spaces of authentic freedom where people are loved for who they are, not for how they conform. Support businesses and community groups that uphold ethical practices and treat their employees with justice. When faced with complex social debates, engage with curiosity and compassion first, seeking to understand the human experience behind the headlines. Strive to be a person of such integrity and charity that your very life becomes a compelling invitation to a fuller, more authentic way of living.
Our task is not to solve every global crisis overnight, but to infuse our own corner of the world with the principles of our faith: freedom, dignity, and love. By anchoring our actions in these truths, we build, brick by brick, a more humane world.
Go in peace.
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