A Reflection on World AIDS Day

My apologies to those of you who have made a habit of visiting this blog.  I've been so busy lately that I have very little time to think, let alone write anything.   But this morning, as I listened to the first portion of Psalm 18, I heard words that seemed appropriate for World AIDS Day:

The breakers of death rolled over me,     and the torrents of oblivion made me afraid. The cords of hell entangled me, and the snares of death were set for me. I called upon the Lord in my distress, and cried out to my God for help. He heard my voice from his heavenly dwelling; my cry of anguish came to his ears.
I found my mind recalling various faces of friends and acquaintances who have died of complications from HIV infection; of seeing the AIDS quilt, both laid out in near-fullness on the Mall in Washington, DC, in 1993... and a few panels at Holy Trinity Episcopal Church in Gainesville.  I thought about the shame heaped on those living with HIV, and how so many especially 30 years ago... would lose the love of their families as they lay dying in hospitals.  And I thought how these words sounded very much like the kind of prayer the persecuted patient might have been praying. Scientists have made huge breakthroughs in the 30 years with the antiretroviral drugs, but there are still almost 40-thousand new cases of HIV infection every year.  And there are those who cast all caution to the wind and intentionally go out to get infected, a phenomenon I simply don't understand. As I remember those who have died, I continue to pray that we will continue funding the research to work us toward eradicating HIV/AIDS here and abroad.

Pictures from the Interfaith World AIDS Day

Well, it was bone-chilling cold Wednesday night as the temperatures were falling to close to freezing, but about 60 people braved the weather to make a human AIDS ribbon on the steps of the old state capitol building. I know that my northern readers find it hard to believe that 40 degrees is "bone-chilling", but when you add the NW wind blowing... it was bone-chilling by Tallahassee standards.

This visual statement, accented with the red glow sticks, was a simple way to acknowledge the reality behind the statistics read aloud by various clergy about AIDS. As we heard a statistic that spoke to us, we were to break our glow stick and shine a light for those affected by AIDS/HIV. I had many reasons to break mine, but waited for the stats on sub-Saharan Africa, a region that is ravaged by HIV and AIDS.

Many thanks to the clergy and faith leaders who put this event together. A perfect compliment to the words of St. Paul to cast out the darkness and put on an armor of light.

photos by Winnie Miles.

Light One Candle for World AIDS Day

Peter Yarrow of the folk group Peter, Paul and Mary wrote a song called "Light One Candle" which links the story of Hanukkah to the always present struggle for justice and freedom, especially for those who are oppressed. The song begins:

Light one candle for the Maccabee children
Give thanks their light didn't die;
Light one candle for the pain they endured
When their right to exist was denied;
Light one candle for the terrible sacrifice
Justice and freedom demand;
light one candle for the wisdom to know
When the peacemaker's time is at hand!

chorus:
Don't let the light go out,
It's lasted for so many years!
Don't let the light go out!
Let it shine through our love and our tears!

What a cosmic combination it is, then, to have the first night of Hanukkah fall on World AIDS Day. For the generation of LGBT people before me, AIDS has robbed so many close friends and lovers. I, too, have known some men who, when they reached a certain point where their immune system was collapsing, had friends assist them with suicide rather than face the slow and agonizing death. I have seen the many panels of the AIDS quilt on display at the March on Washington in 1993, a quilt that has become so huge it no longer can tour in its entirety. I have gathered with the community around the enormous live oak tree at Meridian and Gaines Streets to sing the names of those who have died from complications of AIDS as the sun was rising on a new day. And today, I read with sadness about the prevalence of the disease in sub-Saharan Africa. Statistics show that just that one region of the continent makes up nearly two-thirds of the total HIV/AIDS cases in the world. Even the pope has finally seen the dangers of this syndrome in Africa by softening his stance from 2005 against condoms to now saying that it might help to stem the tide if male prostitutes wear a condom. He also thinks that will raise a prostitute's awareness about the "banalization of sexuality" as morally harmful. Sure.

Light one candle for the strength that we need
To never become our own foe;
Light one candle for those who are suff'ring
The pain that we learned long ago;
Light one candle for all we believe in,
That anger not tear us apart;
And light one candle to bind us together
With peace as the song in our heart!

It is frustrating to me that so much energy in the Anglican Communion has been wasted on trying to define our Anglicanism for the purposes of weeding out the United States and Canada rather than focusing on this real issue of AIDS in the Global South. The church primates from African nations should be advocating for more medical aid and education about the spread of the disease to save their flock from infection. Church leaders from outside of Africa and Asia should be demanding that the countries who have the means to supply medicine should do so and should do so without reservation, and to share the knowledge they've gained on how to stop the spread of HIV. Sadly, some of the people who have the best practices and knowledge to help with that effort are the folks in this country who were part of groups like the Gay Men's Health Crisis in New York City. I'm not counting on the Orombis of Africa getting in touch with them any time soon.

What is the memory that's valued so highly
That we keep it alive in that flame?
What's the commitment to those who have died?
We cry out "they've not died in vain,"
We have come this far, always believing
That justice will somehow prevail;
This is the burden and This is the promise,
This is why we will not fail!


As we light the first candle for Hanukkah, or relight the first candle of Advent, offer a prayer and meditation for those who have died, and for those who are living with infection today. Pray that one day we will cast off the darkness that keeps us separated and put on the armor of light that draws us together in the common purpose of ending HIV/AIDS. Don't let that light go out.

More Than A Woman

Now there was a woman who had been suffering from haemorrhages for twelve years. She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, ‘If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.’ Immediately her haemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my clothes?’ And his disciples said to him, ‘You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, “Who touched me?” ’ He looked all round to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.’ --Mark 5: 25-34

I was struck again this morning by the appropriateness of this passage coming during Morning Prayer of a week when we are praying for people with HIV and AIDS. A woman, who clearly had been failed by the medical establishment of the day, reaches that place in her struggle against the bleeding to have faith that if she could just "touch his clothes" this amazing healer would make her well. And--Shazam!--it was that act of desperation and pinning her hopes on even the slightest contact with Jesus that leads to her cure.
It is not that easy for those living with AIDS. There are no crowds pressing in on a Messiah with amazing healing powers. But if God were to come back as an incarnated man, I am sure that God would be going to those parts of the globe suffering from the widespread cases of HIV and AIDS.
Short of that miracle, we can offer our selves to that service of being the one who doesn't shrink away from the person with HIV or AIDS. We can be present and be a friend, a person who will be God's incarnated love... and a supporter of that person's faith and trust in another.
The story of the hemorraghing woman is another one of those moments in the gospels where it is a nameless person, the everyday person, who provides an opening for us to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest what God is doing. The scenes with women are especially powerful, since women in First Century Palestine were not important. So, on International Women's Day, we have this woman who takes a risk to stop the bleeding. When Jesus feels her touch him, he notices. Odd, given that there are throngs of people pressing in on him, but clearly this woman's touch was unlike the others. Hers was the authentic cry for help. She didn't just want to have a piece of Jesus' might; she had a need and the faith that her need would be met with a simple act of touch.
So, here's Jesus, looking around, asking who touched him and the disciples (that rag tag band of half-wits in Mark's gospel) think Jesus is nuts to ask that question. But the woman, who has been bleeding for twelve years (twelve is also the number of tribes of the Israelites from the OT), gets up the courage to come forward and show herself to him. In turn, Jesus makes her story part of our history by healing her for having faith in him (aka God).
In thinking on this passage today, I wonder if those of us who have been let down by "traditional" institutions (schools, churches, hospitals, governments) would have faith that if we seek to touch God, we might find the means to stop our own bleeding? How would or how do we do that, particularly if the 'institutional church' is part of the crowd that is pressing in and trying to keep us from touching God?
I don't have the answers, only the questions.

National Week of Prayer for the Healing of AIDS

Almighty God, you know that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves: Keep us both outwardly in our bodies and inwardly in our souls, that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

--Collect for Third Sunday in Lent

Wow. What words to think about as we spend a week in the middle of Lent reflecting on those who have been touched by HIV or AIDS!

"Almighty God, you know that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves..." God may know this, but we can lose sight of this one. Quite often, the temptation is there to take on everything ourselves and to rely on no one... no other person... let alone this intangible force that is greater than ourselves! And when one learns that one will be living with dis-ease, such as HIV, it can feel like an isolation.

"Keep us both outwardly in our bodies and inwardly in our souls..." the key word in this statement is "keep". A call to God that, in sickness and health, we are shielded with God's grace and mercy...

"...that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul..." And this, I would imagine, may challenge the hearts and minds of those who are living with HIV and AIDS. In the early years of the epidemic, when AIDS was claiming the lives of thousands of people in the United States, the common cruel assumption made about "those people" was that they had "done something" to deserve this painful and agonizing fatal disease. Fear and stigmatization abounded. People lost jobs, their insurance benefits, and family members who couldn't accept the diagnosis. Still worse, families that would learn of a son or brother's sexual orientation as a result of the diagnosis of HIV, and would turn away from their dying loved one at that point in their lives. I don't know that it's gotten any better. And with the improved drug treatments now, a new, weird phenomenon has started: "Bug Chasers". My Faust colleague Josh Potter explored in a one-act play this subculture that enjoys participating in high risk behaviors in hopes of becoming infected. Which leads me back to this statement in the collect asking God to "defend" us from those things that destroy the body, mind and spirit of the person. Seeking out infection, and resigning yourself to taking medication for the rest of your life, would seem to arise from a fatalistic view that says, "Party now because tomorrow you might die!" Friends have accused me of being judgemental about people who approach life from that angle. And perhaps I am. But that is because there are other ways to live that are "life affirming". Advocating the use of protection and employing your brain about sex isn't being a "kill joy". It's about staying alive!

And so... we turn it back to God, through Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, to be the power that guides us, and aids in the protection of our outward bodies and inward souls, from falling prey to diseases such as HIV and AIDS. And to those who are living with disease, and their families, we hope that they are encompassed in the universal steadfast love of God and that they feel God's presence with them on the journey.

World AIDS Day

In rememberance of all those who have died, all those who have cared for the dying, and all those who live with HIV, let us pray:

O merciful Father, who hast taught us in thy holy Word that thou dost not willingly afflict or grieve the children of men: Look with pity upon the sorrows of this world and those living with the realities of HIV/AIDS for whom our prayers are offered. Remember them, O Lord, in mercy, nourish their souls with patience, comfort them with a sense of thy goodnes, lift up thy countenance upon them, and give them peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
--Collect for A Person in Trouble or Bereavement, BCP, pg. 831