Lent with vaccines
By Frances Stebbins
Every day, it seems, we hear the question: “Have you gotten your vaccine yet?”
Thanks to some helpful church friends with a medical background I can answer in the affirmative for Dose One with the necessary Dose Two scheduled next week at the convenient Salem Civic Center.
After Virginia’s slow start, the several hundred folk who filled the halls when I was there testify that a lot of arms are getting stuck in the Roanoke Valley. Still, we seem to be behind many other states. My daughter in Florida got her first before I did, and my at-risk son-in-law there has had both his shots with no difficulty.
Reactions appear to vary with some persons needing a day of rest to recover from the aches or slight fever experienced. Others notice nothing untoward following either shot.
The most unpleasant thing about my experience was the need to stand in a fairly slow-moving line, several minutes of it outdoors as a February cold wave wind whipped around the entrance to the Salem Civic Center. Once inside, I was grateful for the good organization and courtesy of all the medical personnel who gave special attention to those of us with white hair and stooped backs.
Because I had had a swollen tongue reaction to a medication given eight years ago, I had to wait 30 minutes instead of the usual 15 to be cleared for departure. A physician spoke to many of us waiting after our shots; he advised that any discomfort afterwards be treated with rest and fluids rather than painkillers since that might weaken the effect of producing the desired immunity.
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With March having arrived and the afternoon light lasting noticeably longer—Daylight Saving Time starts in another 10 days on March 14—many Christian denominations have begun the observance of Lent. Like Advent before Christmas, the period of 40 days, Sundays excluded, before Easter is meant to bring a believer to awareness of his/her mortality and reliance on God to help in overcoming the weaknesses all humans suffer from.
I’ve written about Lent often, but this year it takes on for many a deeper and more personal meaning. As one who has been blessed with many decades of a good life, I am now daily aware of limited years, for so many who were once my close friends have now gone to a world beyond; COVID-19 or other effects of age have taken them.
I attended a meaningful Ash Wednesday service at noon on February 17 along with around a dozen others. We all wore masks and –as is done on Sundays—were checked for illness upon arrival and left plenty of space around us.
As is customary, the presiding minister marked our foreheads with a cross made from ashes obtained from the burned palms of the year before. It seems a bit strange that, upon leaving the service, the marking reveals to outsiders that the person has been engaging in a pious gesture while many of the prayers said warn against showing off one’s religion.
Newsletters that I receive from church offices reveal that congregational leaders, lay and ordained, have devised many ways to keep worshipers as safe as possible while still gathering for the customary ritual. In some Roman Catholic services the priest has dropped ashes on the head to avoid close contact. After many months of no worship inside a building with the resultant loss of financial support and adjustment to staying home on Sundays, those to whom such habits are important are taking small steps to return to some degree of what used to be taken for granted.
Members are being polled on their preferences, new ways are being tried to educate children without the usual close contact in a Sunday School class.
One may ask what God is trying to teach in these unprecedented years.
