In the movie, Schindler’s List, Amon Goethe, the commandant of the Nazi labor camp, took a young, Jewish girl to be his personal maidservant. At one point in the film, this girl had a private and very disturbing conversation with Oskar Schindler. With deep fear in her voice she said to him, "I know that someday my master will shoot me." Schindler, at first, couldn’t believe it, and he tried to assure her that the commandant was really quite fond of her. But she insisted, "No, someday he will shoot me." She then spoke of what she had seen the previous day. She said that she had seen him walk out of his quarters, draw his gun, and shoot a Jewish woman who was walking by with a bundle in her hand.

Listen, now, to her description of the woman—and her very insightful comment. She said, "Just a woman on her way somewhere. No fatter, or thinner, or slower, or faster than anyone else; and I couldn’t guess what she had done [to provoke him]. The more you see of the commandant, the more you see there are no set rules that you can live by. You can’t say to yourself, ‘If I follow these rules, I will be safe.’"

That girl was absolutely correct: In a world of moral confusion, there can be no safety, and, consequently, no peace. She understood that in the "world" of that Nazi labor camp, right and wrong had been blurred to such an extent, that she couldn’t determine what was "right" in the mind of the commandant. What pleased him at one moment might not please him in the next. And if he happened to have a gun in his hand when he wasn’t pleased, she knew she could easily end up like the woman with the bundle in her hand.

In today’s world, most people say they want peace, do they not? And yet, many of them also want their moral relativism: that is to say, they want to be able to define right and wrong for themselves. But you cannot have both. It’s not—and it never can be—peace and moral relativism; it’s either peace or moral relativism.

Consider, for example, terrorism. Terrorism—which is undermining efforts for peace all over the world at the present time—is a practice rooted in moral relativism. The terrorist does not accept the objective, moral truth that the direct killing of innocent people is always wrong. In his moral relativism, he’s convinced himself that killing innocent men, women, and children is acceptable—and sometimes even virtuous.

If there’s ever going to be peace, the terrorists of the world must accept the objective, moral norm that innocent human life is always to be respected. But how can we get these terrorists to accept this objective moral norm concerning innocent life, when so many of us in the west have rejected other objective moral norms ourselves?

Think about it, for a moment: How could a moral relativist in the United States criticize Osama bin Laden for what he’s done? What could a moral relativist like Hugh Hefner possibly say to a terrorist? (I use him as an example, because many, many Americans today think just like he does.) If Hugh Hefner said to Osama bin Laden, "Sir, what you’re doing is wrong," Osama would say to him, "Wait just one minute, Mr. Hefner. You believe that free sex is okay; I believe that killing infidels is okay. You don’t accept any objective moral standard regarding sex; I don’t accept any objective moral standard regarding the taking of innocent life. We have the very same philosophy about different aspects of human existence. So, who are you to criticize me?"

In a world of moral confusion, there can be no peace.

Please remember this when you go and vote in November. If you vote for people who reject objective, moral standards, and support abortion, "same-sex marriages" and the like, then you are indirectly undermining world peace.

Now I know this message about objective morality is not a popular one. But it never has been!—as today’s Gospel text from Matthew 21 makes very clear. Here Jesus tells a parable about a landowner who leased his vineyard out to tenants and then sent servants to the tenants at harvest time. Those "servants" were the Old Testament prophets, who preached the Ten Commandments and "objective morality" to the people of Israel. And what kind of reception did these prophets receive from the moral relativists in Old Testament Israel (of which there were many!)? Jesus told us, using the imagery of the parable. He said, "The tenants seized the servants and one they beat, another they killed, and a third they stoned. Again he sent other servants, more numerous than the first ones, but they treated them in the same way."

What a comforting thought to those of us who continue to preach this message!