By Anthony Selvanathan
Special to the Herald
Sirens wail. Breaking news alerts flash across our screens. Another shooting. Another stabbing. Another life cut short.
In recent weeks, we have seen a heartbreaking rise in violence: the killing of Charlie Kirk, tragic school shootings and growing gun violence in our own communities. At the same time, families face deep economic uncertainty, wondering how they will make ends meet. Across the globe, wars and humanitarian crises deepen instability and grief.
These are not distant headlines. They touch our neighbors and friends. Parents send children to school with knots in their stomachs. Kupuna worry about paying next month’s rent. Our whole community feels the weight of these times.
In moments like this, it is natural to feel anger, confusion or even despair, and to question why some tragedies draw attention while others seem overlooked.
Some may voice hard questions: “At times, Charlie Kirk espoused violence — why focus so much on him and not on the suffering in Gaza or Ukraine?” These concerns reflect a deep longing for justice and reveal how complex our world has become.
As Catholics, we should not turn Kirk, or anyone, into a cultural martyr. The tragedy of any life lost to violence calls us to prayer and conversion, not to political division. Our focus must remain on the Gospel and the inherent dignity of every human life.
Love is at the heart of this call. St. Thomas Aquinas defines love as “willing the good of the other.” Love is not passive; it is the active choice to heal wounds rather than deepen them, to build bridges rather than walls.
In an age of anger and division, love becomes our most radical act of resistance.
With so much pain around us, it’s easy to become desensitized — to see violence as just another headline instead of a wound to our shared humanity. When tragedy becomes routine, we risk closing our hearts to those who need compassion most.
As Catholics, we must resist this numbness by choosing to see, to care and to respond with both prayer and acts of mercy.
The Gospel calls us to a consistent ethic of life, to uphold the dignity of every person, everywhere, at all times. Whether in Honolulu or Hiroshima, Gaza or Ukraine, the classroom or the public square, every human life bears the image of God.
Violence in any form wounds not only its victims but the entire body of Christ. When one member suffers, we all suffer. And when one life is lost to hatred, our shared humanity is diminished.
In biblical times, a Jubilee year was a time of restoration and renewal. In this Jubilee of Hope, we are called to heal what is broken in our hearts and communities; to return to God and to one another; to release resentment; and to rebuild what sin and division have torn apart.
Love is the heart of this Jubilee, urging us to see every person as a brother or sister and to work for a world made whole again.
Jesus told his disciples, “In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world” (Jn 16:33). This promise does not erase suffering, but it gives us the courage to face it without fear.
At every Mass, we bring our brokenness to the altar. The bread and wine become the body and blood of Christ, our hope made visible. From this table, we are sent forth to bring Christ’s presence into the world, speaking truth and healing communities through love.
As this Jubilee of Hope continues, may we proclaim that the light of Christ shines brightest in darkness.
Let us kneel in prayer, rise to action and refuse to give up on our communities. Even in a world fractured by hatred and fear, hope is alive — not because of what we see, but because of the One who conquered sin and death.
May we be that sign of hope and love for others, today and always.