Blessings of peace to all of you, my brothers and sisters, on this Sunday of joyful anticipation, this Third Sunday of Advent, when our hearts are called to prepare a way for the Lord, to make straight a path for His peace.
We gather in a world that groans, a world that, in its complexity and interconnectedness, cries out with the same wounds Christ bore upon the Cross. We see this agony in the headlines that scroll past our eyes, stories that are not mere news items, but chapters in the ongoing story of human suffering and human dignity. Today, we must confront three faces of this modern Calvary.
First, we behold the face of violence and the loss of innocent life. We hear of soldiers and interpreters, of lives cut short in distant lands, and we remember the words of our Lord: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” To be a child of God is not a passive inheritance; it is an active vocation. The peacemaker is not merely one who avoids conflict, but one who, with courage and creativity, builds the foundations for a just order. When we see the harvest of hatred and terror, we are called to sow seeds of reconciliation, to support dialogue over destruction, and to recognize that every life lost to violence is a tear in the fabric of our common humanity, a brother or sister for whom Christ died.
Second, we witness the face of persecution. We see the brave, like the Nobel laureate Narges Mohammadi, who stand for righteousness—for the God-given dignity of women, for freedom of conscience, for human rights—and are met with chains. To them, Christ proclaims: “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Their imprisonment is a stark testament to the cost of conscience in our age. Their witness calls us to a solidarity that transcends borders, to pray for them, to advocate for them, and to examine our own courage. Are we willing to stand for righteousness in our own communities, in our workplaces, in the public square, when the cost may be comfort or convenience?
Third, we confront the face of a particular cruelty: the destruction of medical infrastructure in conflict. To bomb a warehouse of medicines, to destroy a hospital, is to wage war not on armies, but on the sick, the wounded, the infant, the elderly. It is an assault on mercy itself. This sin cries out to heaven, and it directly contradicts the parable of the Good Samaritan, who “went to him and bandaged his wounds… and took care of him.” The Samaritan did not ask the wounded man’s nationality or creed; he saw only a brother in need. When we see the instruments of healing targeted, we are called to be Samaritans on a global scale—to support those who bind wounds amid the rubble, to send aid, and to condemn unequivocally any act that makes compassion a battlefield.
My dear brothers and sisters, these are not isolated crises. They are symptoms of a world forgetting its sacredness, a world drifting from the foundational truth that every person is made in the image and likeness of God. If we, the faithful, remain silent, if we grow numb or retreat into private spirituality, we can foresee a future of deepening shadows. A world where conflict is normalized, where the voice of conscience is silenced in every nation, where the vulnerable are left to perish without succor. This is a path not of progress, but of a desolation that chills the soul. This is the warning we must heed.
But we are people of Advent! We are people of hope, not of despair. We envision, with the eyes of faith, a world transformed by the love of Christ working through the hands of good men and women. We see a world where peacemakers bridge divides, where the persecuted are vindicated and free, where the healing hands of the medical worker are shielded as sacred. This is not a naive dream. This is the Kingdom of God, for which we pray every day: “Thy Kingdom come.” And it comes through us.
Yet, to be effective heralds of this Kingdom in the modern world, we must also look within our own spiritual home. One of the great challenges for the Church in this age is the crisis of communication—not merely of technology, but of meaning. We possess the eternal truth of the Gospel, the greatest story ever told, the answer to the human heart’s deepest longing. And yet, so often, we struggle to make this treasure resonate in a world distracted by noise, fragmented by ideology, and thirsting for authentic community. We must become, with renewed fervor, a Church that listens before it speaks, that accompanies before it teaches, that embodies mercy before it explains doctrine. We must bridge the chasm between the pulpit and the pew, between ancient faith and contemporary longing. I call upon every one of you, the faithful, to aid in solving this. Be evangelists of encounter. Share the joy of your faith in your families, in your digital forums, in your simple acts of kindness. Do not hide your light under a bushel. The world needs to see Christ, and it will see Him in you.
Therefore, on this Sunday, let us depart from this place not merely comforted, but commissioned. Let the grief we feel for the slain, the anger we feel for the imprisoned, the compassion we feel for the bombed and the broken, be transformed into holy energy. Support organizations that build peace. Write letters for prisoners of conscience. Contribute to agencies that deliver medical aid. And in your daily life, be a peacemaker, a defender of righteousness, a Samaritan to whoever lies wounded on your path.
The Lord is near. His coming at Christmas reminds us that God entered this very world of violence, persecution, and pain. He did not avoid it; He redeemed it from within. Now, He asks us to be His hands, His feet, and His heart. Let us go forth, and with His help, build a world worthy of the children of God.
Amen.
What can we do?
In the face of violence that claims innocent lives, our practical contribution begins with becoming architects of peace in our own spheres. This means actively de-escalating conflict. Refuse to traffic in gossip or rumors that fuel division. When you encounter an argument—online, in your community, or at home—strive to be a listener who seeks understanding rather than a combatant who seeks to win. Support and volunteer with local organizations dedicated to conflict resolution, mediation, and community healing. These small, daily acts of creating peace are the bedrock upon which greater security is built.
Confronting the persecution of those who stand for justice requires us to become informed and vocal advocates. Make a conscious choice to learn the stories of imprisoned activists and persecuted communities from reliable sources. Use your voice, within your own networks and to your elected representatives, to call for their protection and for diplomatic pressure. Where possible, provide direct support by donating to vetted international human rights organizations that offer legal aid, advocacy, and humanitarian assistance to prisoners of conscience and their families.
The targeted destruction of medical infrastructure is an assault on human dignity. Our response is to become unwavering supporters of healing. This can take direct form through financial contributions to medical charities operating in conflict zones, ensuring doctors have the supplies to be modern-day Samaritans. Locally, it means advocating for robust public health systems and supporting clinics that serve the vulnerable. In your daily life, extend this principle of care: check on a neighbor who is ill, offer practical help to someone struggling, and champion policies that ensure healthcare is treated as a fundamental right, not a privilege.
Each of these paths—cultivating peace, advocating for the oppressed, and upholding the duty of care—is walked through simple, consistent choices. We change the world by how we speak to a colleague, where we direct our attention and resources, and the small kindnesses we refuse to withhold. Start where you are. Use what you have. Do not underestimate the cumulative power of a million faithful, practical actions.
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.