A Change of Heart

Last night was my first World AIDS Day celebration. I was invited by my co-worker who has fast become a wonderful new friend. Her name is Kathy and her brother’s coming out many years ago changed the landscape and direction of her life. She is now a leader in the community co-founding a group dedicated to the education of friends and family of the LGBT community. Her story is just as inspirational as she is; the more I get to know her, the more depth she brings to my own understanding of the meaning of compassion for alternative lifestyles.

The celebration was stationed at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church in Daytona Beach. It was there that we joined a tide of people in front of the image of Mary standing in cave like structure, a child at her feet praying to her. The night was lit by candles which became part of the theme of one of the speakers who equated the light of each candle to represent the light of God on the canvas of ignorance. This speaker was a woman who has been living with AIDS for 25 years. Her courage to give an audience to her struggle was more than admirable; “the stigma still remains,” she said! Although it is not as raw as it was in the 80’s when just the word could have people in a fear frenzy. Kathy shared with me her own concerns about her brother during this time and how she could understand those concerns. Her words made the night more personal for me.

After the speakers were finished the priest walked us to the Halifax river, the waves of moving candles flickering down the sidewalk as we walked were impressive and had me thinking about the many people around me. So many lives touched by this disease, still. We ended up at a large gazebo out on the water with everyone packed around each other. Kathy’s name was called out several times as she knew many people there who wanted to say hello. One man walked up to her and gave her a big hug and when she introduced me to him, he scooped me up in his arms as if we were long lost friends. His name was Jeff Allen. At that point there was an invitation for anyone there to speak about a loved one who passed from this disease. Many tossed their loved ones names gently out into the crowd with stories that made it easy for me to imagine that they floated out to sea as each family shared. Other names remained close to the vest; the loss too new or too powerful for them to untie to be let go of just yet. The Rabbi then gathered us up again for the walk back to the church.

Once there we found a seat and waited for the panel of interfaith speakers and a gay man to begin. The gay man was Jeff Allen who turned out to be instrumental in the church's outreach program to the LGBT community. The most touching moment was when Jeff spoke about his parents and how he knew so many families that disowned their children when they came out; his voice cracked with emotion as he spoke of receiving nothing but love from his mom and dad. My heart found itself weeping for those so harshly cast aside, and, thankful that Jeff had such a supportive family.

The night brought my life full circle. Being raised a Southern Baptist steeped in extreme conservatism; I was front row to many services throughout my life that spate out just how this wickedness was ruining our country; the sermons were always laced with the caveat, “love the sinner but hate the sin,” yet, the words were tight with hypocrisy. Love cannot contain judgement ... it is inclusive and compassionate.

Kathy would tell me later that the gentleman who hugged me, Jeff, had Aids. I’m thinking this morning that Jeff has more love and compassion in his pinky finger than most Christians I know today.

It was a beautiful night with a beautiful friend and I received a beautiful hug from an HIV positive gay man named Jeff Allen. This is a memory I won't soon forget.

Mona McPherson