AIDS-it’s always fatal; there’s no known cure. Once confined primarily to homosexuals and drug abusers, it is now gaining ground beyond those groups. Local churches will soon encounter the problem face to face-if they haven’t already.
How should a church minister to those with AIDS? To what extent can it let them participate in fellowship without endangering others? Do other parishioners have a right to know who in the congregation has AIDS? What approach best blends caution and compassion?
The accounts below describe how two different churches tackled this issue. The first is Millington Baptist Church in Basking Ridge, New Jersey, a suburban congregation previously unfamiliar with such problems. Pastor Peter Pendell candidly recounts the fears they felt as they sought to minister to a family with AIDS.
Millington Baptist Church
We thought we were safe, tucked away in our corner of the world, telling one another that sex outside marriage and the illicit use of drugs were anathema. We thought the AIDS virus had been stopped at the door by these ushers of chastity and self-control.
But Bill Miller knocked on the door of our church, and we welcomed him. He attended with some regularity, enough so that we learned of his struggle with intravenous drug abuse. After a period of absence, Bill returned with his bride, Jane, and her 4-year-old daughter, Tammy. Just months after Bill and Jane trusted Christ as their Savior, Bill learned that his former wife had tested positive for the AIDS virus. Seeing the possibilities, Bill and Jane, who were now expecting a child, were tested and found to be carriers of the virus. At birth, their son, Michael, joined his parents in that dreaded condition.
The situation drew our leadership into the most difficult decision-making process I have ever witnessed in a local church.
Critical Issues
Consider the issues that battled one another:
Confidentiality. Did we have the right to reveal the Millers’ condition, and if so, to whom? The year was 1984, and much less was known about AIDS than is known today. Fear was widespread. Public disclosure would probably mean Bill’s losing his job, Tammy’s removal from school, and the family’s social ostracism. Bill gave us permission to inform a small circle of friends in the church who had helped him through prior crises. As could have been predicted, that circle grew to include those who were not so sympathetic. We were left with the further difficulty of a congregation in which a significant number knew of the problem but many did not. Those who disagreed with our quiet posture threatened to tell friends who were as yet uninformed.
The right to know. What was our obligation to others who could conceivably become infected? Many were convinced then, as they are now, that the virus could be transmitted by nonsexual contact. I remember well the shock of one mother who had just learned of the problem: “How dare you fail to inform us of something so dangerous?” I was torn by the potential consequences of our silence: spreading infection, an exodus of families, growing mistrust, and even lawsuits. We were already seeing a gulf develop between those who wanted to restrict the Millers and those who wanted a completely open door.
I did break my code of silence once as I learned that an uninformed woman was due to take a prepared supper to Bill and Jane. I personally felt no great danger visiting them in their apartment, but I knew others would. In a sincerely broken response, the woman said, “I just can’t do it. I can’t take the chance.” When they learned of the change of plans, Jane was saddened, but Bill was angry. He said, “Where is the love of Jesus in all this?”
Hearing that, I cried.
Truth. Can we separate the truth, the rumors, and the unknowns of the AIDS epidemic? We consulted physicians who treat AIDS patients, the Center for Disease Control, and our own county health department, but the questions persisted.
“What if an infected child bites my daughter in Sunday school or shares her lollipop?”
“How dangerous is the saliva or urine of an infected baby in our nursery?”
“Would the perspiration of an infected person carry the virus into food that is being served at a potluck?”
Pronouncements from health-care professionals do not necessarily remove all fear from lay people. A church policy must consider the fears and unknowns as well as the “facts.”
Restrictions. Are there areas of church life that must be pronounced “off limits” for this family? As the elders discussed possible restrictions, a deep sadness pervaded the room. A number were involved with Bill and his family. Each was haunted by a mental picture of Jesus’ touching the lepers of his day. Were we willing to touch the “lepers” of our day? At the same time, concern for the church at large weighed upon us.
Ultimately, we reached the conclusion that though we as Christians might decide to have close contact with the Millers, we did not have the right to make that decision for others. Based on the knowledge we then had, as well as our fear that medical science did not have enough data to define the means of transmission with certainty, we imposed the following restrictions:
1. Adults who tested positive would not be allowed to minister to children or handle food.
2. Children under the age of 7 who had tested positive, or who lived in the home of an infected adult, would not be allowed to participate in the nursery or children’s activities. (The age of 7 was chosen because we felt that bodily functions were well regulated by then, and the tendency to share food or bite could be controlled.)
3. Toilet facilities would be used only in emergencies.
The need to minister. Both Bill and Jane had recently become Christians, and Tammy was trusting Jesus as only a small child seems able. Yet the restrictions we imposed kept Tammy and Michael from close association with children their own age, and this in turn effectively cut off Bill and Jane from the life of the body.
The decision to restrict the children was most difficult for me. In hindsight, limiting the activities of an uninfected child because she lived with an infected adult seems too severe, but at the time, many thought she could become a bridge over which the virus would pass from the home to the church. We sought to establish a home Sunday school class for Tammy and had two volunteers in place, but Bill’s recurring episodes of illness kept us from proceeding. Besides, Tammy needed the socialization of Sunday school as much as the information, and we couldn’t provide that at home.
Bill and Jane were encouraged to attend church activities, but the difficulty of finding baby-sitters normally kept them home. The family needed much more than the financial support that was relatively easy to give; they needed brothers and sisters who would care for them emotionally and spiritually. They needed assurance that the family of God would stand beside them to the end. The combination of fear, confidentiality, and busy schedules kept us from effectively meeting their needs. For example, Bill was especially frustrated with the restriction on toilet facilities and after it was imposed spoke increasingly of finding another church.
After a while, the family did start to attend another church. I was hurt by what appeared to be their ingratitude for what we had done for them, but also by the unwillingness or inability of many of our people to enfold this family. I found it difficult to dispute their reason for leaving-“We want to go where we feel accepted”-but I took comfort in the knowledge that a number of our people had sacrificed for this family.
Both Bill and his former wife are dead now, and Jane and the children have moved to another part of our state. The problem is past, or is it? We are reexamining our response to Bill and Jane, recognizing the failures and seeking to formulate a more compassionate and comprehensive policy before it happens again. It will happen again.
Philadelphia Church
Philadelphia Church, in inner-city Chicago, was used to welcoming street people and already had an active ministry to homosexuals when it faced the need to formulate an AIDS policy. Pastor Dennis Sawyer tells the story.
“Pastor, the call on line three is for you, but the man refuses to identify himself.”
“This is Pastor Sawyer. May I help you?”
“Does anyone in your church have AIDS?” The voice was surly.
I offered the response that over the years has saved me not only time, but also much embarrassment: “Why do you ask?”
“I visited your church Sunday morning, and I read in your bulletin-you know, the bit that says, ‘Anyone interested in helping to draft an official church policy statement regarding AIDS,’ and then it says where to meet.” He then repeated, “I want to know if anyone in your church has AIDS. Do you think anyone with AIDS shook hands with me Sunday morning?”
“Sir,” I said, “in a city as large as Chicago, you probably encounter someone every day who has been exposed to the AIDS virus.” I attempted to explain that according to the Surgeon General and all the latest research, there was absolutely no danger of his getting AIDS from casual, nonsexual contact.
He didn’t want education, however. He only wanted to know if anyone in our congregation had AIDS.
“Sir,” I answered, “in any large church in this city, you will probably find people who have been exposed to the AIDS virus.”
“Then I’ll stay home and watch TV,” he said, and with that he hung up.
Confronting the Crisis
I wasn’t ignorant of AIDS when the epidemic first touched my life as a pastor. I had been paying close attention to the media coverage of AIDS, because our congregation has an outreach to homosexuals, and many have given up that lifestyle through the power of Jesus Christ.
It was evident from the statistics that AIDS would eventually affect everyone in the nation in one way or another. According to the Surgeon General’s report on AIDS, by December 1991 an estimated 270,000 cases of AIDS will have occurred in the United States, causing 179,000 deaths within the decade since the disease was first recognized. In the year 1991, an estimated 145,000 patients with AIDS will need health and supportive services at a total cost of $8-16 billion.
Those 179,000 deaths are equivalent to wiping out Stockton, California, or Dayton, Ohio. In comparison, 33,629 Americans died in the Korean War, and 47,321 Americans died in the Vietnam War. When those figures are added together and doubled, they still do not match the number of expected deaths by AIDS.
Troubled by the statistics, I began to educate myself regarding AIDS, so I wasn’t totally uninformed when Phillip came to see me. “Pastor, I’m worried,” he said. “Off and on for the past three months, Evelyn has been really sick. I think I may have given her AIDS.”
Phillip had become a Christian six years earlier. Delivered from an active homosexual lifestyle, he had been celibate for three years prior to marrying Evelyn. She knew about his background, and we had spent hours together in premarital counseling. However, that was before AIDS was a household term. Phillip and Evelyn had been happily married for three years, and she wasn’t evidencing the symptoms common to someone with AIDS-Related Complex (ARC). Out of concern for her, however, Phillip agreed to be tested for AIDS so that if he tested positive, we could begin taking whatever precautions were necessary. But what precautions would be appropriate?
When Phillip tested positive, I faced a number of difficult questions. Phillip’s dentist is a member of the congregation; should I say something to him? When Evelyn is feeling good, should she still work in the nursery? Should I make these decisions on my own? Should I inform the church board? What about the congregation? Do they have a right to know?
Those and other questions were swirling in my head when Martha came to see me. She had been a Christian for more than ten years, but her adult children were still running from God and living the life Martha had left.
“You know my daughter is still on drugs,” Martha said. “Well, now she is pregnant. I talked her out of getting an abortion and made arrangements with a Christian adoption agency to place the baby in a Christian home.”
“It sounds as though you’re doing the right thing,” I said.
“Well, there’s another problem. My daughter tested positive for AIDS. Now the Christian agency won’t take the baby because no one wants an AIDS baby. I don’t get it! They preach against abortion, but if a baby is born with AIDS, they refuse to get involved. Do you know of a Christian couple who would be willing to adopt a baby with AIDS?”
Her eyes started to glisten as she continued, “The baby might be born AIDS free, or it might not. No guarantees.”
“I haven’t known a baby yet who was born with a guarantee,” I answered. “I’ll see what I can do.”
More questions filled my head. Should I contact one of the childless couples in our church? Could our church handle something like this? People were picketing schools that children with AIDS tried to attend. If the baby came to our church, would anyone have to know it had AIDS? Could we let a baby with AIDS stay in our church nursery?
The Need for a Policy
At this point, I realized our church needed a policy covering these questions. I wanted it to be a policy that would hold true regardless of whether the person in question had been in our church for years and was perhaps a victim of an infected blood transfusion, or was fresh off the street.
Years ago, I learned that a truly neutral policy can be created only in a neutral environment. It’s easier to stay objective when the people who will be affected by the policy are still without names and faces, a lesson gained the hard way. For example, one time “Mrs. Smith,” a new attender, notoriously unorganized and totally lacking in basic hygiene, wanted to use the church social hall and kitchen for a private event. Over the years, the church had occasionally allowed someone this privilege, but we didn’t have a policy.
Knowing Mrs. Smith’s desire, the powers that be hastily drew up a policy for the use of those facilities, and based upon it, her request was denied.
Unfortunately, the policy was so written that when an elder’s wife and later the single adults group wanted to use the same areas, they, too, were turned down. Hurt feelings and accusations of favoritism prevailed for weeks before a truly equitable solution could be found.
Recognizing there was already hysteria surrounding the AIDS issue, we didn’t want to repeat our earlier mistakes. We had to form an AIDS policy before anyone in the congregation knew about Phillip, Evelyn, Martha, or others who may have been exposed to the virus. We wanted to determine a policy based solely upon the known facts and not upon personalities, politics, or social status.
I contacted the newly formed AIDS Pastoral Care Network here in Chicago, and they advised, “Whatever you do, don’t tackle this project alone. Form an official task force, and use it to educate your congregation.”
To start the process, I purchased copies of the booklet Confronting AIDS and gave one to each elder and member of the church staff. After they had read the booklet, I asked for permission to establish a task force that would draft an AIDS policy. The statement would then be presented to the congregation for its approval.
Invitations were sent to individuals in the church who would likely have something to contribute-health professionals, counselors, writers, educators, former drug abusers, and former homosexuals. Finally, an announcement was placed in the bulletin inviting anyone else who might be interested.
Approximately 8 percent of our Sunday morning congregation (about 40 people) attended our first AIDS task force meeting. Booklets, pamphlets, and articles were distributed with an appeal to become informed. In subsequent meetings, we discussed, argued, whittled, wrote, and rewrote.
Just prior to our third meeting, I received a call from a young man, new to the city, who was scanning the Yellow Pages for a church home. After asking questions to ascertain our theological bent, he said, “Would you allow someone with AIDS to attend your church?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I have AIDS, and so far, the other churches have recommended I call somewhere else.”
“We would be happy to have you,” I said. “In fact, could you come to a meeting at the church tonight? We need your input on our AIDS task force.”
Jim joined the task force and soon became a Christian spokesman for people with AIDS. He has since appeared on the Oprah Winfrey program and Moody Radio and has been interviewed by Christianity Today magazine.
I was able to encourage Jim to attend our church because the members of the task force, through education, were developing compassion for individuals with AIDS. It was important to the entire group to use the proposed document as a teaching tool to stem the fear, confusion, and rejection so often associated with AIDS. It was also important to the group that the statement reflect our commitment to celibacy prior to marriage and monogamy thereafter, and at the same time clearly state that we would assist anyone regardless of personal beliefs or current lifestyle.
Finally, after six meetings, we produced a “Statement of Policies and Procedures Regarding AIDS.” (See “Policies And Procedures Regarding AIDS.”) The final draft was adopted unanimously by our church council and congregation.
What’s Happened Since
The statement includes a commitment to educate ourselves and our community. Therefore, as pastor, I have felt the liberty to invite the community to an AIDS film showing at the church, to speak to ministerial groups, to write articles, and to be involved in radio broadcasts.
The statement also calls us to minister to people with AIDS. We have established ministry teams to make initial visits, do laundry, clean houses, provide transportation, and care for the care-givers of persons with AIDS.
The greatest results of this ministry, however, have been indirect: people in the church are confessing serious needs in their lives that previously they had kept hidden. “If our church can honestly love and reach out to people with AIDS,” I frequently hear, “then maybe I can be honest about my problem.”
Our policy statement was adopted a year ago now, and the task force continues to monitor developments in AIDS research. So far they’ve seen no need to modify the statement. I’m happy to report that Phillip still shows no AIDS symptoms, and that while Evelyn is still sick, there has been no ARC diagnosis. Also, Martha’s grandchild (a girl) was placed with a Christian couple who were thrilled to get her. Although she tested positive for the AIDS antibody at birth, she’s doing fine so far, and we’re hopeful she’ll soon receive a clean bill of health.
According to Newsweek (Aug. 10, 1987), “The census of the dead stands at 22,548 now, by the government’s conservative count. As many as a million and a half more Americans are thought to be infected with the AIDS virus. Our response to AIDS will in important ways define us as a society.”
I’m convinced our response to AIDS will also help define us as a church. We hope to model Jesus’ words: “I was a stranger and you invited me in . . . I was sick and you looked after me. … ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’ “
Copyright © 1988 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
