coronavirus
Dr. Francis Collins shares his journey of religion and science, and how he's found his harmony between the two.
Photo by Jacob Bentzinger on Unsplash
Lent is always a solemn period of penance, reflection, and prayer, but this year that reflection is different. Though vaccinations are on the rise, the virus has killed nearly 500,000 people in America and forced many more into isolation. For many Christians, Lent in 2021 has also taken on a new significance beyond the requirements of social distancing.
Pennsylvania Avenue Baptist Church in Southeast Washington is the first faith-based vaccination partner in DC Health’s “Faith in the Vaccine” initiative. Photo by Madison Muller for Sojourners.
Senior citizens braved the winter weather on Thursday morning for their COVID-19 vaccine appointments at Pennsylvania Baptist Church in Southeast Washington, D.C. By the end of the day, 100 Washingtonians would be vaccinated at the church.
Women make rosaries at Vilma Antony’s home in Koonammavu. Photo courtesy Rinton Ravi Jose.
Turning beads into elegant rosaries isn’t merely Vilma Antony’s sustenance. It’s her spiritual calling.
Volunteer hands out masks for coronavirus disease survival kits as part of an outreach program to the Black community to increase vaccine trial participation in Rochester, N.Y., Oct. 17, 2020. REUTERS/Lindsay DeDario
Early in the pandemic, during one of my “church check-ins” over Zoom, I opened the floor for our members to share any challenges they might be facing as a result of the shutdown so we could be more responsive and supportive. After a few responses, the call went surprisingly silent. I prodded the group and one of our wisest, most active retirees surprised me with her contribution: “We’ve been through challenging times before. We are resilient people. We are okay.”
Ruth E. Berggren, one of the San Antonio leaders who signed an interfaith pledge to publicly support the COVID-19 vaccine, recieves her vaccine. Photo courtesy of Ruth E. Berggren.
When Rev. Ann Helmke, who leads San Antonio’s Faith-Based Initiative, invited Kemp to sign an interfaith pledge to publicly take the COVID-19 vaccine, he was quick to say yes. Part of the pledge involves sharing a selfie of the vaccination process on social media. “The importance of people of faith speaking to their congregations, their constituency, their area of influence, cannot be overstated,” said Kemp, who received his first vaccine dose on Dec. 18 and shared a photo of it on Facebook.
U.S. President-elect Joe Biden, his wife Jill Biden, Vice President-elect Kamala Harris, and her husband Doug Emhoff stand in front of the Washington Monument ahead of Biden's remarks on Jan. 19, 2021. REUTERS/Tom Brenner
As the U.S. crossed the threshold of 400,000 deaths from COVID-19, President-elect Joe Biden and Vice President-elect Kamala Harris spoke at the country’s first national memorial service for coronavirus victims.
Kits of aid ready at a shelter in the municipality of Choluteca, Honduras, in the weeks following Hurricanes Eta and Iota. Photo courtesy Living Water International
In the wake of two devastating November hurricanes estimated to have killed over 90 people in Honduras, church-run albergues (shelters) across the Central American country have played a key role in housing thousands of people displaced from their homes. While these shelters provide essential care, health experts from faith-based and secular NGOS alike have warned that cramped living conditions, a lack of protective equipment, and the complete disruption of victims’ lives could lead to another wave of COVID-19 in the country, even those areas far from the epicenter of the hurricane damage.
A sign directs healthcare workers to a rehearsal for the administration of the Pfizer COVID-19 vaccine in Indianapolis on Dec. 11, 2020. REUTERS/Bryan Woolston
Initially, the available doses of the vaccine are limited; experts estimate that it could be months before the vaccine is available to most Americans. And for the incoming administration as well as public health experts, this raises a number of ethical questions, most importantly: Who should be the first to receive the vaccine?
Woman holds vials labelled "COVID-19 Coronavirus Vaccine" over dry ice on December 5, 2020. REUTERS/Dado Ruvic/Illustration.
As a COVID-19 vaccine gets closer to a public rollout, public health experts and policymakers in the United States are likely to encounter a big cultural barrier: Christian nationalism.
Though Thanksgiving 2020 isn’t canceled—like just about everything else this past year—it needs to be different. Because of this, it is currently not safe to travel or gather in the ways many of us typically do. This need to do differently has left many Christians split and pitted against one another.
As churches create plans for re-opening their buildings and look toward a future where people have been vaccinated against COVID-19, there is an opportunity now to re-imagine church. Likely, it will never be the same. And maybe that’s for the better. Singing, hugging, and sharing food have become risky activities. I still grieve this, and yet the possibilities and imagination spurred by these limits excite me.
President Donald Trump briefly rides by supporters in the presidential motorcade in front of Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, where he is being treated for COVID-19 in Bethesda, Md., Oct. 4, 2020. REUTERS/Cheriss May
When news broke last week that the president was diagnosed with COVID-19, I tweeted that the psalm of the morning ought to be Psalm 109, which includes startling lines like "may his days be few" and "may his children be orphans." It was not in jest. While people had varying reactions to the news, the imprecatory psalms give Christians guidance on how to pray.
As news spread that Donald and Melania Trump have contracted COVID-19, thoughts, prayers, and tweets have started pouring in from across the U.S.
Pune-based pastor and social worker Sagai Nair prays for a COVID-19 victim. Photo courtesy Manish Patil
Death does not scare Sagai Nair. She lowers the deceased into coffin boxes, carries them by foot to the graveyard with five other volunteers, uses a shovel to dig six feet inside the earth, and recites verses from the Bible for the grieving families. After paying her last respects, she burns her protective gear, sanitizes herself, and prepares for the next burial. In a coronavirus hotspot, 47-year-old Nair is the only woman in India burying the dead—a traditionally male-dominated occupation.
A nurse wipes away tears as she stands outside NYU Langone Medical Center on 1st Avenue in Manhattan as New York police came to cheer and thank healthcare workers in New York City, April 16, 2020. REUTERS/Mike Segar TPX IMAGES OF THE DAY/File Photo
The United States hit another grim milestone Tuesday as the death toll from the spread of the coronavirus exceeded 200,000, by far the highest number of any nation. The United States, on a weekly average, is now losing about 800 lives each day to the virus, according to a Reuters tally.
Founded in 1872 by the Sisters of St. Joseph (CSJs) as a home for ill and retired members, Nazareth found itself among many care facilities making the difficult decision to confine residents to their rooms as the coronavirus tore through the nation in early March. Even with their efforts, the Nazareth community has lost seven Sisters and 30 residents in total to COVID-19.
A sign of health safety measures to prevent the spread of the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) is seen on the door to the main office at Mantua Elementary School in Fairfax, Va., July 17, 2020. REUTERS/Kevin Lamarque
Hybrid model. Synchronous learning. Pandemic pod. These words have quickly become the new normal when parents talk about school this fall. Every school district is scrambling to figure out how to deliver quality instruction while keeping students, families, and educators safe from COVID-19. They face a dizzying array of conflicting choices and, maddeningly, there are no simple solutions. The entire schooling dilemma is like a proverbial house of cards: We gently pull out a single card and the entire creation collapses.
People wear masks in Del Mar, Calif., on July 30, 2020. REUTERS/Mike Blake
The apostle Paul summarizes the practical implications of a Christ-like ethic toward others: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:3-4 ESV).
This year has been difficult beyond description for so many people. While the COVID-19 pandemic has understandably occupied front pages across the country and around the globe for much of the past six months, another destructive wave continues to fester, creating so much pain and grief: our national plague of gun violence, which claims 100 lives a day. Together, the two crises have become a toxic combination.