World AIDS Day Reflection

World AIDS Day is a sacred day for me, and for so many of my siblings in the LGBTQIA+ community. It is a day that knits together memories, mourning, and renewed commitment. As a queer child of God, a Christian, and Lutheran pastor, my heart is shaped by loss, hope, and a conviction that God’s love holds all of our stories.

I cannot reflect on the day without lamenting the silence of the Trump Administration.Their refusal to acknowledge this day pierces my heart. For decades, silence has been one of the deadliest enemies in the fight against AIDS. When leaders choose to look away, they signal to the world that the suffering of those living with HIV and AIDS do not matter. I believe our faith calls us to shatter that silence, to speak the names and stories of those who have gone before us and those still struggling for dignity and health.

As a Lutheran, my faith is deeply rooted in grace. I believe in a God who sees us fully and who entered into human suffering in Christ. The same Christ who touched the untouchable. Jesus’ entire ministry was spent alongside those whom society labeled unworthy and untouchable. As Christ followers, we are called to that same work. We are called to see those living with HIV/AIDS as God’s beloved, to honor their lives, and to lift-up their needs.

AIDS is more than a public health issue. It is a story written into the fabric of families, friendships, and human bodies. Too often, the church has deepened those wounds rather than helping to heal them.The LGBTQIA+ community has been blamed, shamed, and excluded. Let me say this clearly: This is not the Gospel of Jesus Christ! The gospel is good news for those on the margins. The gospel proclaims that every person is precious in the sight of God and every life is worth fighting for.

Access to health care is not just a policy debate; it is a matter of life and death.The refusal to fund AIDS research, to make medication affordable, to educate and prevent further transmission—these are choices that reveal the values of a society. We must insist that our nation choose compassion over convenience, justice over indifference. We must demand that our leaders do not turn away from those who need help the most. 

I grieve with those who continue to live with HIV, often in isolation. But I also celebrate the resilience and love that have sustained the LGBTQIA+ community.The Holy Spirit calls us to persist, to demand justice, and to offer hope. That call extends to the church who must stand with the vulnerable and refuses to let silence have the last word. As the body of Christ, we have his example for how to advocate for research, treatment, and care that can save lives. So too, must we be relentless in our support for our LGBTQIA+ neighbors, and for all who have been touched by this disease. We are, each of us, fearfully and wonderfully made in God’s image—may we act like we believe it.