I am struck by the thread of life and death that is woven through each of the readings today.

In Acts, Paul claims that despite the severe hardships he faced and will face, he isn’t afraid of losing his life, because he sees a different kind of life worth striving for. In the responsorial psalm, we declare that God “controls the passageways of death.” In the Gospel, Jesus takes this belief about God and gives us the good news that he is this passageway, and that eternal life is right here and now, even when it may not look like it.

Just this past Sunday, the New York Times’ front page featured a painful tribute to and a reminder of what is almost 100,000 lives lost to the coronavirus in the United States by May 24. It is an image that I won’t soon forget.

It is impossible to truly fathom a number that large, let alone what it represents. Yet in the face of the overwhelming loss, there are small moments of hope and humanity. Many of the people remembered here are simply named, but for those who are accompanied by a one-sentence mini-biography, we get a glimpse into more than a name, but a life—a human soul.

They are both heart-rending and heart-warming.

She helped immigrants and refugees get on their feet. Patricia Rowe, 94, Buffalo.

Wanted everyone to feel welcome. Mauricio Valdivia, 52, Chicago.

Wife with little time to enjoy a new marriage. Jermaine Ferro, 77, Lee County, Fla.

Many will miss her infectious, sometimes mischievous laughter. Durlene Clontz Shuffler, 95, Morganton, N.C.

Proud of recently being promoted to Grampy. Conrad Warren Buckley, 52, Clermont, Fla.

Fought against the Covid-19 pandemic to save patients. James Mahoney, 62, New York City.

As I scrolled through the list, I found tears of both sorrow and joy welling, and it makes me think of the victorious-yet-also-messy dual reality presented in our readings today. This thread of hope even in the darkest of times—as Paul, the psalmist, and Jesus declare here—is at the very center of Christianity.

There is so much to life and death that I simply do not understand, especially at this time. But I take some comfort in Jesus’ words that he and God know our names, pray for us and send the Holy Spirit.

Today, if you would join me, I will be praying for the souls of the many people who have died during this pandemic, whether surrounded by people or by no one. Regardless of whether we know each soul’s story or read their name, I am trusting today and praying for what Jesus claims—that God knows their name and they belong to God.