World Aids Day Meditation
December 1, 1999
What a magnificent psalm. My soul waits for God – yet at the same time – I cry out to God – why hast thou forgotten me. The psalmist so accurately reflects the contradictions within us all. The contradiction of longing and hope, of terror and doubt – of facing the realities of suffering and death – and yet hoping and longing for God’s intervention into life.
Tonight, of all nights, is a time of contradiction. A service to mark World AIDS Day – to acknowledge our hope for a cure, and yet to mourn for those who have died. It’s a time to come together to acknowledge the uncontrollability of things – the fragility of human nature – the perverse refusal of life to be packaged and managed.
Tonight, of all nights, we are faced with choices, with understanding, with interpretations. Is it all just luck, fate – that good people should be struck down – or is there more to life than we can understand? To put it in theological language, is all of the suffering within the providence of God? The psalmist waits for God, yet wonders, “Why hast thou forgotten me?” Two ideas on a collision course. God as a comforter, healer, and God as judge, who forgives and loves, who shows mercy but also is in control and makes demands.
So, where are you tonight? is your religion concerned with finding happiness, or is it a religion of facing terror or despair? And the possible absence of God, as well as the presence of God.
Can you take a leap of faith and face the terror with hope – that God will be present – even when we feel a sense of loss?
Frankly, I would like to have all that religion offers – but only on my own terms. I’d like to have a little bit of terror–facing reality – understanding judgment – as well as mercy – just a little bit of terror (not a lot) so that we can switch it off – like a horror movie – which I know will be over. But I don’t want the terror that makes me face my own fragility – that makes me question
n– whether there is a God – whether he/she has a plan – and
whether or not I have a part in that plan.
So my friends, are we blessed or are we cursed? Is your religion a comfort or does it threaten your very existence? The choice we face – is religion a terror in the face of love? Or is it joy at discovering we are loved?
This evening, we mourn for those who have died of AIDS. We let the tears of longing settle in our hearts. But more than that, we are here to remember. Who might you remember – a friend, a love, a name? Can you feel the importance of dispelling anonymity? Can you grasp the importance of reaching out to someone with AIDS?
I think the terror we feel – on a night like this is the fear of intimacy – the terror of partnership. Religion reminds us that we are called into partnership with God. A partnership that acknowledges an intimacy with all creatures from God.
We are here to acknowledge a partnership that entails a pattern of living and dying – of entrances and exits – of beginnings and endings. A pattern of living with God and dying with God.
In my denomination, we have begun this past Sunday singing hymns with words like – O Come O Come Emmanuel. And Emmanuel means “God here with us.” We are preparing to acknowledge that God comes and acts – and loves us into a partnership. A partnership where our tears can turn to joy, and our longings can turn to hope.
So remember – those who have died of this dread disease, but remember them with hope, for they are loved.
I would end our thoughts with some words from Raymond Carver, who died a few years back – but not before he was able to see clearly the contradiction in his own life. Despite his weaknesses – his fragility – he shared the secret of hope in his poem called d
‘And did you get what you wanted from life? Even so – I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved.
To feel myself beloved on the earth.”
And so, tonight, we commend to God those who have died of AIDS. And we hope for a cure – And we affirm that all who are HIV positive or have AIDS – are beloved – for God is with them – and they are with God.
Amen