A sermon for Evensong on All Souls’ Day
November 1, 2026, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR
Readings: Psalm 130, I Thessalonians 4:13-18, John 5:24-27
If you have been to many funerals where I have preached, you have very likely heard me say something. It’s something I return to funeral after funeral, because we need to hear it. I say, “Christians gather at funerals because we have a Christian hope that nothing, nothing in this world or the next, will ever be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.” I’m pulling from St. Paul in Romans there. He wrote, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” We need to hear that, lest we come to believe the old lie that death is stronger than the love of God. We need to hear it, lest we come to believe the old lie that this life is all that matters. We need to hear that, lest we come to believe that what Christ has done for us is not enough to hold us in this life and the next.
Christians are called to live in this hope. The catechism puts it this way: “The Christian hope is to live with confidence in newness and fullness of life, and to await the coming of Christ in glory, and the completion of God’s purpose for the world.” We hold on to that confession once written by St. Paul: Nothing can separate us from the God who has claimed us. Certainly not death, which was definitively defeated by Jesus Christ our Lord as he stepped out of the tomb.
But that hope is tested when a loved one dies. That hope is tested as we face the end of our life. That hope, and our faith in the promises of God, are tested, because we live in a world that is afraid of death more than anything else. We live in a world that is afraid of being forgotten more than anything else. We live in a world that has yet to grasp, completely, the radical grace of God’s promise of eternal life and the resurrection of the body. In such a world, we Christians are called to proclaim boldly, and live, that hope.
And so we come to the feast of All Souls’. Tonight is about proclaiming that hope that nothing separates us, nor those who have died in this hope, from God our Maker, Redeemer, and Friend. We pray for those who have died, and we know they pray for us in the nearer presence of God. We remember them, and yes, we may feel grief and sorrow. But alongside that grief, we hold on to the assurance that those who belong to God are never lost, never forgotten. For when Jesus said he is the resurrection and the life, he meant it. The promises of God are always yes and amen. As surely as Jesus got up on the third day, we will, too–and all those who call upon his name and hear the voice of the Son of God.
