Here we are in the first week of November.  And once again, we’ve just gone through that annual ritual that somehow manages to annoy just about everybody: changing the clocks. Every year, people debate whether we should  keep Daylight Saving Time, get rid of it, stay on Standard Time permanently. Politicians introduce proposals. Experts weigh in about sleep patterns, health risks, accidents. People get surprisingly passionate about the whole thing. Personally, I think the most impressive part is that we’ve somehow found another issue we can argue about.

Thank you for taking the time to read this homily for the COMMEMORATION OF ALL THE FAITHFUL DEPARTED – ALL SOULS DAY –  November 2, 2026
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Thank you for being part of this ministry and for helping these homilies reach far beyond the place where they are first preached..   Sincerely in Christ -Father Jim

But there’s something kind of fascinating about this whole debate. We can move our clocks forward an hour. We can move them backward.  We can even convince ourselves that we’ve somehow gained an hour this weekend. But we haven’t actually created any more time. We haven’t added a single minute of daylight to the world. We haven’t made the earth spin any slower.  We’ve simply changed the numbers on our clocks. And maybe there’s something revealing about that.

We spend an awful lot of our lives trying to control something we ultimately have no control over: time.

Think about how often we talk about it. I don’t have enough time. I wish I could go back in time. I can’t wait until this part of my life is over.  Or maybe the most dangerous one: I’ve got plenty of time.  Plenty of time to figure out what I want to do with my life. Plenty of time to straighten things out with someone I’ve hurt. Plenty of time to get serious about my faith.  Plenty of time to become the person God is calling me to be.

We make plans for next semester, next year, the next five years.  We imagine what our lives will look like at 25, 30, 40, 50. And there’s nothing wrong with making plans. But there’s one detail we don’t like to think about. None of us actually knows how much time we have.

And that’s where today’s celebration of All Souls Day comes in. Yesterday, on All Saints Day, the Church invited us to look toward heaven  and celebrate those who have reached the destination we’re all hoping for. Today, the Church asks us to do something a little more difficult. To remember those who have died. To pray for them. And, inevitably, to confront the reality that one day, our own earthly lives will come to an end. That’s not exactly an uplifting thought. In fact, most of us spend a considerable amount of energy trying not to think about it. We fill our schedules. We distract ourselves.  We tell ourselves that death is something that happens to other people, or at least something we won’t have to worry about for a very long time. Until something happens that makes it impossible to ignore.

A phone call we weren’t expecting. A diagnosis that changes everything. A funeral for someone who was much too young. Or maybe it’s something quieter.  A birthday, a holiday,  a family gathering where there’s suddenly an empty chair. You find an old text message from someone who’s gone.  You hear their voice in a video on your phone, and for a moment, it feels like they’re right there again. And you realize how much you wish you could turn back the clock. Not by an hour. But by a day. A week. A year. Just to have one more conversation. One more laugh. One more chance to say something you wish you’d said. And no matter how much we want to, we can’t.

But this is precisely where our Christian faith has something extraordinary to say. Because the Church doesn’t invite us to remember the dead  simply to make us sad, or to remind us that life is short. The Church invites us to remember them because death does not have the final word. Jesus Christ does.

Listen again to those beautiful words from the Book of Wisdom: “The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them… They are in peace.”

Think about that image for a moment. In the hand of God. Not forgotten. Not lost. Not simply erased from existence. Held by the God who created them.  Who knew them before anyone else did. Who loved them throughout their lives,  even in those moments when they struggled to love Him in return. And who does not stop loving them at death. That’s the foundation of our hope.

It’s why St. Paul can speak so confidently about our union with Christ:  “If, then, we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him.”

And it’s why Jesus makes that remarkable promise in the Gospel: “Everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life,  and I shall raise him on the last day.”

Notice what Jesus is promising. Not simply that we’ll be remembered fondly by the people who loved us. Not that we’ll somehow live on through the things we accomplished or the impact we made. He promises eternal life. Resurrection. Life with Him.

That’s something infinitely greater than simply wishing we could turn back time. And it’s also why what we’re doing today matters so much. On All Souls Day, we pray for those who have died. Not because we presume to know the state of their souls,  but because we trust in God’s mercy. We pray especially for those undergoing purification in purgatory –  those who belong to Christ, who are destined for heaven, but who are not yet perfectly ready to enter into the fullness of God’s presence.

And we pray for those who might have no one else praying for them. There’s something profoundly beautiful about that. In a world where people can so easily be forgotten, where even someone’s name can eventually disappear from human memory, the Church says: No one is forgotten in our prayers.

And love doesn’t simply end at the grave. We can still do something for those we’ve lost. We can pray for them. We can offer the sacrifice of the Mass for them. We can entrust them, again and again, to the mercy of Jesus Christ.

But there’s one more thing this day asks of us. What are we doing with the time we still have?  Because if we believe that eternal life is real,  if we believe that our relationship with Jesus Christ matters beyond the grave, then that should change something about the way we live right now.  Maybe there’s someone you need to forgive. Maybe there’s a relationship you’ve been putting off repairing. Maybe there’s a sin you’ve been making excuses for, a confession you’ve been avoiding,

a conversation with God that you keep telling yourself you’ll get around to eventually. Don’t assume there’s always going to be more time. Not because God wants us to live frightened of death. But because He wants us to be fully alive. And that means learning to love Him, to trust Him, and to love one another while we have the opportunity.

This weekend, we moved our clocks back an hour. And before long, we’ll move them forward again. But none of us can actually turn back time.  The good news of All Souls Day is that we don’t need to. Because through His death and Resurrection, Jesus has accomplished something far greater. He hasn’t simply given us more time.  He’s opened the way to eternity. And the time we have right now –  however much or little that may be  – is our opportunity to choose Him.