CARING FOR HOMOSEXUALS WITH AIDS

After five years in various cities in California, living the homosexual lifestyle, Jeremy was returning to his Midwest home-with AIDS. He was hoping for much from his family but expecting little. During his years away, Jeremy had refused to write or call home. His parents likewise knew and eventually cared little about their son, finding his sexual lifestyle personally repulsive and socially embarrassing. But now, nearing the end, Jeremy sent word that he was coming home, he said, “to die.”

This scenario is repeating itself daily throughout the country. Young men with AIDS hold out as long as they can and then, with reluctance, return home for what they hope will be care and acceptance from those they, paradoxically, both love and hate. The healing they seek is not so much physical as relational. The presence of these young men in families in our congregations forces us to learn how to minister to them. As soon as we offer pastoral care to homosexuals with AIDS, however, we recognize several difficulties involved.

Few previous contacts

One of the problems for many ministers is that most of us have had little, if any, interaction with people immersed in the homosexual community.

Until recently, my only significant contact had been while supervising a group of seminarians in a clinical pastoral education class. A male student said to me, “I love you,” to which I perhaps too quickly responded, “And I love you.” I later realized we meant different things: my love for him was that of a brother in Christ and had spiritual, not sexual, overtones; his love for me was sexual and had little spiritual love in it. But I hoped my spiritual love for him might be just the thing he needed to overcome his vain search for love in ways that contradicted God’s design.

Based on limited contact, I envisioned my ministry to the homosexual as that of simply offering God’s love and concern without a sexual aspect. But I’ve learned there is more to it than that.

A few years ago a physician asked me to visit a man with end-stage liver disease. In the course of visiting with Art, I discovered he had been raised a Catholic but had rejected everything in his upbringing and was now a homosexual and an atheist. When I told him I was the chaplain, he said, “I don’t believe in God, and I do not want to talk about religion.”

I nodded and offered to talk about whatever he raised for discussion. Immediately he asked, “What do you believe about God?”

“I believe God cares for you and loves you,” I replied, “and wants to help you face this illness with courage and hope.”

As days went on, our talk about God continued. Then one day Art asked if I believed in prayer. I said yes, and he asked me to pray. The next day Art told me that when I had prayed with him, he sensed a peace in my life. He asked me to pray again. Eventually Art came to believe in God and wanted God’s love, which he had not experienced before. But Art left the hospital suddenly and I have not seen him again. The issue of homosexuality never was discussed.

This experience taught me something. I thought homosexuals could be taught, by being genuinely loved, to experience love from other men without the sexual side. This, after all, is what Jesus offers us. My only mistake was in not recognizing the depth of the need for that love in the form of in-depth pastoral counseling as well. The truth, too, must be spoken, in love.

Conflicting views

Barry had made an appointment with me through a friend. When he entered my office he looked troubled, but I had no idea of the nature of the problem. He began abruptly. “What is your view of homosexuality?”

For all I knew, he had a son who was gay or was checking out my views for referral of others who were. I told him, “I believe homosexuality is a sin, but that God loves all people, including homosexuals, and invites them to be free of sin.”

Barry’s eyes filled with tears. He said, “Thank God, I found someone who agrees with me!”

He went on to say he had spent the past year seeing counselors and psychiatrists. They had urged him to accept his homosexuality, but he had a sense as a Christian that it was not God’s will. Since then, through counseling directed at his goal of freedom from homosexuality, Barry has come a long way. He has been reconciled with his wife, who stood by him during his years of homosexual encounters.

Though not a victim of AIDS, Barry illustrates a second difficulty that arises in ministering to homosexual AIDS patients: the vastly different views of their lifestyle they hear.

Sometimes they hear homosexuality is natural, its origins genetic, thus giving the homosexual no choice in the matter. Sometimes they hear homosexuals cannot change (though this is not true).

They hear that the church throughout history has never accepted or approved of homosexuality. But sometimes even those in the church who cannot quite approve of homosexuality say, “Yes, homosexuality contradicts God’s design, but this is a fallen world, and so we have to accept things as they are.” Or, “We are all sinners, and who is to say one sin is worse than another?” What often is not heard is that the presence of sin ought not cause us to give in to it but to attempt to overcome it.

Because of the varying views victims have heard, one way to approach the subject with a homosexual who has AIDS is to ask what he has heard previously from the church and how he feels about that. Then we ourselves need to be clear on our theology of homosexuality before we can minister to those who contract AIDS through it.

Estrangement from family

A third challenge: ministry to a homosexual AIDS patient nearly always involves ministry to family members as well. Typically there is deep estrangement. Sometimes the family discovers the person’s homosexuality only when AIDS is diagnosed.

Many family members simply cannot cope with a rational approach to this discovery. There is both the fear of the disease and the struggle to know how to respond to the homosexuality. If the family tries to accept the homosexual son without accepting his homosexual lifestyle, the son is not likely (short of his own desire to be free of that lifestyle) to be satisfied. Sometimes families decide not to face the issue at all and try to pretend it is not there.

Merv had been married for six months, and his wife was pregnant. Noticing a purplish marking on his thigh one day, he went to the doctor. Merv was told he had multiple problems, not the least of which was cancer, the result of AIDS. Merv couldn’t handle the cancer or the thought of being exposed as having had a homosexual lifestyle before marriage, so he ended his life with a gun.

Meeting with the grieving family, it was sad but fascinating to see them refuse to come to terms with Merv’s homosexuality. Unable to face it, they focused only on his decision to die, which they saw as a noble sacrifice-“He didn’t want to be a burden to us.” Nothing was said about his homosexuality or his wife’s possible infection other than “It’s becoming quite common nowadays.” This noncommittal comment was all they could manage.

Other times families react strongly: either totally rejecting the son or endorsing the son’s disorientation rather than lose him. Some parents feel guilt due to an assumed genetic cause (as yet unproved) or their ways of relating to the son in early childhood.

Those who minister to homosexuals with AIDS must keep in mind the family’s need for healing as well. Unless compassion dominates, no amount of counsel will prevail. I try to help family members verbalize their feelings, attitudes, and meanings of this experience. I counsel families to forgive the son, but I stress that they must not condone the homosexuality. It is a hard but worthy task to be able to say, “We love you as a son, but we don’t approve of your lifestyle.”

Blending compassion and confrontation

I have reserved the fundamental difficulty for last. How do we call people to account for their actions (the act of homosexuality), while at the same time minister compassionately to those suffering?

My experience is that the delicate balance between compassion and confrontation is elusive. For some people, righteous indignation takes over, and condemnation follows. For others, compassion takes over, and courage fails. Some are just not convinced that compassion and confrontation are compatible.

These two aspects of the Christian ministry are known in traditional terms as law and gospel. The law shows us how we have fallen short of God’s expectations and design, and the gospel proclaims forgiveness, healing, and freedom for new life when we repent. Our ministry needs both elements.

How do you deal confrontationally in love? Perhaps my experience with Jack will be helpful. Jack, a 57-year-old homosexual with AIDS, had been referred to me by his physician when Jack indicated religious interest. When I met him, it was fairly clear that he was afraid to die without sorting things out with God. Jack claimed to not have had much contact with organized religion, but as we got to know each other, he would occasionally quote Augustine. He was obviously well versed in religion and was only testing me.

After two weeks in the hospital, Jack’s condition improved, and so did his trust in me. I recommended he read the Gospel of Luke and that we talk about anything he found. Each time I visited, Jack kept picking out the passages about Jesus’ accepting prostitutes and sinners. Little by little, Jack came to believe that Jesus Christ actually did love him.

At this point, nothing had been said about Jack’s homosexuality. Two days before he was to be discharged from the hospital, I felt Jack was ready.

“Jack, do you see any connection between God and your illness?” I wanted to know whether he saw God as the cause of his illness, the usual blaming kind of response.

“No,” he said, “God isn’t doing this to me. It is just one of those things in life we have to live with.”

I then asked, “What about your homosexual lifestyle? Do you see any problem there with God?”

“None whatsoever,” Jack replied with some indignation. “I don’t care if the Bible says a hundred times that it is wrong. To me it is the most natural thing in the world.”

From Jack’s defensiveness, I could tell he had been accused by others of being contrary to Scripture on this issue. I chose not to pursue the question further at this point. My assessment was that Jack’s novice faith couldn’t yet handle the whole ethical dilemma. But a seed, in the form of a question from someone who cared about him, was planted. As Jack’s faith grows, he will be able to face the question with added courage and the hope of God’s unconditional love.

Jack will be back in the hospital within the next few months, and I will talk with him again. I hope to continue to help Jack find the peace and joy in Christ that come when healing of the whole person takes place.

-Richard C. Eyer

Chaplain, Department of Pastoral Care

Columbia Hospital, Milwaukee, Wisconsin