WORLD AIDS DAY

...was technically yesterday, December 1st, 2010. I was able to see some of the AIDS memorial quilt that travels around to different parts of the country. It was on display at the Clinton Presidential Library in downtown Little Rock today. Since I arrived in the later afternoon I only saw some of the panels since they were beginning to put them away. They had been laid across the lawn. I'm not sure how many panels there were altogether, but it was enough to cover quite an area. In conjunction with the quilt display, there were volunteers from the Clinton School of Public Service who were reading aloud the names of people who had succumbed to AIDS. This oration was to stretch from midnight on the 1st until midnight this morning.

There were few casual observers in attendance when I came, perhaps a half dozen. However there was a bevy of students (and others?) carefully and respectfully folding the quilt panels in preparation for their return to storage and subsequent shipment to their next destination. While this mild mill of activity was taking place there was a lone figure atop the tiny hill in front of the presidential center reading aloud into a microphone name after name of person after person, strangers to both us, who had died as a result of AIDS. One lady, who I assumed to be an observer, stood and listened for a while. I took up an unmarked post next to her, listening and trying to discern my purpose for hearing these names. I was there for solidarity - these were people, brothers and sisters. They had families, loved ones, friends, pets, teachers, co-workers. Since the people involved found their lives important enough to document in this way, I felt some sense of duty to pay attention and acknowledge each person, as many as I could.

After standing attentively in place for about five minutes I honestly began to feel wildly out of place. It's not that I didn't belong because I didn't have or know anyone with AIDS or anyone who had died of AIDS. My discomfort came from a growing understanding of the depth of apathy and indifference toward people who have AIDS. I recognize AIDS and HIV as serious epidemic health disasters, but I often overlook the people and don't feel any sense of immediacy or importance to address this issue. I kind of let it get brushed under my proverbial do-gooder rug. Then and there, trying to be faithful and true to my calling, I sat to quietly pray. The prayers were for rejection of apathy on my part and the part of others. There were also supplications for advancement in medicine and science to prevent the spread of this disease and actively help those who are suffering with it now. It's no small figure, but the numbers have to be superceded by faces, by the lives of people. It's not that there are more than 32.9 million worldwide cases of AIDS. There are more than 32.9 million people who are losing their lives to battles with this virus-caused disease.

Lord, help us love.