Clergy preaching faith in vaccine
Religious leaders work to combat reluctance that’s still widespread
During a recent Sunday service at the Gathering Place, an evangelical church in Orlando, Fla., the Rev. Gabriel Salguero focused his sermon on the COVID-19 vaccine and the fear and suspicion that his largely Latino congregation clutches so tightly.
He turned to the New Testament: the parable of the good Samaritan, about the importance of aiding the stranger.
“In getting yourself vaccinated, you are helping your neighbor,” he preached to about 300 masked and socially distanced worshippers. “God wants you to be whole so you can care for your community. So think of vaccines as part of God’s plan.”
Salguero is among thousands of clergy members from a cross-section of faiths — imams, rabbis, priests, swamis — who are trying to coax the hesitant to get vaccinated against COVID-19. By weaving scripture with science, they are employing the singular trust vested in them by their congregations to dispel myths and disinformation about the shots. Many are even offering their sanctuaries as vaccination sites to make the experience more accessible and reassuring.
Their mission is becoming increasingly vital. With vaccine supply expected to surge in the coming months and the White House promising enough doses for every American adult by May, public health officials are shifting their attention to the still-substantial number of people who are skeptical about the vaccines. Winning them over is imperative if the country is to achieve widespread immunity from the virus and a semblance of normalcy.
Some of the most potent reasons people cite in resisting vaccines are rooted in religious beliefs, and indeed one obstacle these clergy members face is the inveighing against the shots by their own peers. The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops recently proclaimed that Catholics should avoid the Johnson & Johnson vaccine if they have a choice, calling it “morally compromised” because it was developed with cell lines from a fetus aborted in 1985. A false rumor, taken up by some imams and rabbis, that COVID-19 vaccines contain pork byproducts pervades Muslim and Jewish communities.
But clergy members who believe in the importance of vaccines are uniquely positioned to counter those claims. Pope Francis declared that coronavirus shots are “morally acceptable” because of the severity of the pandemic and the remoteness of the connection to the aborted fetus. With Ramadan approaching next month, imams have been holding Facebook Live chats with Muslim doctors, organized around questions like, “Is the COVID-19 Vaccine Halal?”
Evangelizing for the shot
“Qué lo prueben” — let them prove it. That is the throw-down retort from parishioners that Salguero hears when he brings up COVID-19 vaccines. His congregation includes African Americans and multigenerational families from 20 countries throughout Latin America and the Caribbean. Members range from people who cannot read to doctors and other highly educated professionals.
The virus has swept through the church as well as the pastor’s family — him, his wife, his sister, both sons. Still, many in the congregation are steeped in myths about the vaccine and in real-life experiences of unequal medical care.
Salguero, who is of Puerto Rican descent and mindful of the history of medical abuse of Latino people, including decades of forced sterilization of Puerto Rican women, urges parishioners to ask as many questions as they want about the vaccine.
The queries pour forth: If you are living in the country without legal permission, can the vaccine be used to track you? If you are not a citizen, can you still get it? Is the vaccine a mark of the Beast (a reference to a heralding of the end-time in the Book of Revelation)?
Although Salguero is full of facts — he has moderated national town halls with experts from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention — he tries to buoy them with biblical context: Yes, there is balm in Gilead.
“Our tradition is rich with Christ the Healer,” he said. “And medicine is one way people are healed.”
Medicine and faith
In January, Swayamprakash Swami, a former medical doctor based in India who is now a senior monk affiliated with BAPS, a mainstream Hindu denomination, gave his blessing to the COVID-19 shots. Now the ancient Hindu principle of ahimsa, an exhortation to do no harm and revere life, is being used to encourage Hindus in North America to embrace the vaccine, said Kashyap Patel, a cardiologist in Atlanta who is a medical adviser to BAPS. American Hindu temples such as the BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir in Melville, New York, are providing pop-up vaccine clinics to their communities.
Vaccine hesitance is more entrenched among American Muslims, who number nearly 3.5 million. About one-quarter of them are African Americans, who have their own historic reasons for mistrusting the shots.
Hagar Aboubakr, who runs an Islamic school in Howard County, Md., said she saw no reason to get the vaccine.
But as she learned of teachers at her school being vaccinated, she thought, “I have a responsibility to lead by example. Am I being selfish by not getting it?”
She offered a supplication prayer, asking Allah to lead her to a good decision. She listened to talks by Muslim physicians. She consulted her imam.
He told her, “Muslim scholars advise you to take it. As Muslims, it is our responsibility to do what we need to do to relieve humanity of this pandemic.”
Aboubakr recently got her first shot.