Brothers and sisters,
Let’s not dress it up.

One day—maybe without warning—your soul will be required of you.
Not your job.
Not your car.
Not your plans for the week ahead.
Your soul.

That is the moment Jesus wants you to prepare for.
That is the moment this Gospel is all about.

And the question is not if, but when.
And the greater question is: Will you be ready?

Because Jesus doesn’t say:
“One day you might die, so be careful.”
He says:

“This night your soul is required of you.”

Here’s the scene. A man has done well.
His crops have flourished. His barns are full.
So, he thinks to himself: “I know what I’ll do. I’ll build bigger barns. I’ll store it all up. Then I’ll sit back, relax, and enjoy life.”

He doesn’t murder. He doesn’t steal.
He just plans his life… without God.

And that’s the tragedy.

He planned for everything—except eternity.

And God breaks in with chilling clarity:

“You fool. This night, your soul is required of you.
And the things you have prepared—whose will they be?”

That’s not just his story. It could be ours, if we’re not careful.

Solomon, son of David, king of Israel—the wisest, wealthiest man of his age—tried it all before us and none of it lasted.

He built palaces—then saw them crumble.
He amassed gold—then left it to sons who squandered it.
He pursued pleasure—and found it hollow.

At the end of it all, he says:

“Vanity of vanities. All is vanity.”

In other words: It all fades.
What you build will be taken over by someone else.
What you store up, you cannot keep.
What you chase—if it’s not God—will never be enough.

He discovered what every one of us must discover:
If you live only for this world, you die empty.

No matter how much he built — he couldn’t take it with him.
And neither can we.

All the energy we spend building a life on earth —
if it’s not rooted in God — is like building sandcastles before the tide comes in.

The Church Fathers understood this.
St. Basil the Great wrote: “He who stores up treasures on earth stores up sorrows for his soul.”
And St. Gregory the Great warned: “He who sets his heart on passing things is certain to pass away with them.”

Solomon’s wisdom echoes down the centuries:
Everything is vanity—unless it is rooted in God.

The Church has always taken Solomon seriously.
Because deep down, every one of us wants to be the exception.
We think our barn will be big enough.
Our savings will be secure enough.
Our plans will keep us safe.

But Solomon warns: it’s all passing.
And Jesus follows it with a sharper point:
You are passing too.

Let’s not flinch.

You will die. I will die.
It may not be tonight. But it will be a night.

You’ll close your eyes to this world and open them in the presence of God.
And on that day, your soul—not your achievements, not your bank account, not your Instagram feed—your soul, will be judged.

Are you ready?

Jesus is evangelising us here.
He is saying: Don’t waste your life on things that will not last.

“Store up treasure in heaven… Be rich toward God… Seek what endures.”

He’s not offering advice.
He’s offering salvation.

The biggest lie we fall for is this:

“You have time. Later. Someday. There’s no rush. Everyone finds their path. Do whatever makes you happy.”

And Satan smiles.
Because delay is his favourite strategy.

The devil doesn’t need to make you hate God.
He just needs to convince you to put Him off until tomorrow.

But the Gospel says: “This night.”
Not next Lent. Not once you’ve sorted your finances.

This night.

Are you ready?

Because death is coming. And it doesn’t ask permission.

Your soul is eternal.
And it has one purpose:
To know, love and serve God in this life,
And to be happy with Him forever in the next.

That is why you exist.
That is why Christ came.
That is why the Church proclaims this Gospel—so your soul can be ready.

When you remember that you’ll die, you start to live differently:

You stop clinging to things.

You forgive faster.

You pray more.

You realise your soul is more important than your bank balance.

You become wise.

St. Benedict said: “Keep death daily before your eyes.”
Not because he was morbid — but because it helped him live with purpose.

St. Teresa of Avila said:
“In light of eternity, the trials of this life are like one bad night in a poor inn.”

The man in the parable had no idea his soul would be required that night.

Neither do we.

This very night, your soul may be required.

That doesn’t mean you panic.
It means you prepare.

The Church gives us all the tools we need.

1. Go to Confession.
Don’t carry sins Christ already died to forgive.
Come clean. Be reconciled. Mercy is waiting.

2. Pray every day.
Five minutes in silence can change everything.
Don’t just scroll. Don’t just work. Pray. Open your heart to God.

3. Go to Mass with hunger.
Don’t just be present—be present to Christ.
He gives you Himself: Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.
Don’t come out of habit. Come out of love.

4. Live simply.
Ask: “Will this help me get to heaven?”
If not, do you really need it?

5. Ask for the Holy Spirit.
You’re not meant to walk alone.
Say it often: “Come, Holy Spirit.” Grace is given—but you must ask.

The saints knew the secret: this world is passing away.

They didn’t waste time chasing what fades.
They lived for what lasts.

So, brothers and sisters, I ask you now:

Are you prepared?

Don’t wait. Don’t assume you have time. Because the only thing you take with you into eternity is the state of your soul.
The saints all knew this: their motto is Memento mori — remember your death.

Solomon learned it too late.
The rich fool never saw it coming.
But you have heard the Word today.

So respond.
Reorder your life.
Come back to Confession.
Come back to prayer.
Come back to the Eucharist.

This Gospel is your wake-up call.

Don’t leave today with just a good intention.
Leave with a decision.

To stop delaying.
To stop drifting.
To stop clinging to what cannot save you.

Because the barns will rot.
The wealth will scatter.
The breath will stop.

And all that will remain… is your soul.

So don’t walk out the same.
Begin again.

Because the question is not if your soul will be required…
but when.

And when that night comes—and it will—
will the saints rise to greet you… or will your treasures lie buried in the earth?

Because on the day your life ends, you’ll hear one of two voices:
“Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord.”

…or…

“You fool.”

Choose brothers and Sisters while it is still day.
Before the barns collapse.
Before the silence falls.
Before the night comes.