Good News, Faith & Empowerment
Good News, Faith & Empowerment
“I saw the signs on their chests and I was astounded!” I was at the Gay Pride March in central London 8 years ago. There were hundreds of organisations & thousands of people marching. But these particular symbols and words demanded my attention. Across their shirts a small group of men displayed the words ‘Positive Catholics’ and the symbols of the Red Ribbon draped across a black Cross.
That’s how this chapter in my life began in new ways. I was very curious because I knew the Catholic stance on ‘the gay issue’, so I had to go and find out who these people were. I left the Catholic Church when I was around 16yrs old, and I vowed never to return. I wasn’t angry, it just didn’t resonate with me. I was intensely curious. I asked them, who are you? And they told me that they represented CAPS’ Positive Catholics peer support community - Christians living with HIV who supported each other and spent time playing and praying together, and yes, there were Gay people too in this group. I liked the man I spent a few hours with that afternoon, talking and listening to each other. He invited me to an upcoming Positive Catholics meeting, at the old, run-down Hall belonging to the parish of St. Marys in Clapham.
A few days later I felt excited as I approached the door. I received a genuine warm welcome into this new group. Nothing pushy, just accepting. I liked the laid-back atmosphere. We sat in a circle and after the opening remarks, we read the Gospel together, and shared a few reflections on it. Then we prayed for ourselves, the world and others. I remember expecting to see a room full of gay men, but this group was very mixed, roughly half men and half women, black and white, gay and heterosexual. People shared their experiences of living with HIV during the 45 minutes that followed. Some had difficult, painful things to share about their health, relationships or work. Some told how they hadn’t enough money to make ends meet or were waiting for their immigration status to be settled. Others spoke about their faith and how this was challenging them, or how faith had helped them to live their lives well and fully. There was an open, vulnerable quality within the group. What struck me was that each person was listened to. Not interrupted. Not given advice, just listened to and that seemed healing in a way. After those who needed to speak had been heard and understood, we shared a meal together, and relaxed into the company of friends. Within a month I was attending the Positive Catholics Summer Retreat at Douai Abbey, which was a bit like one long extended peer support meeting. More sharing, more laughter, more playing and praying together. Supporting each other, learning together.
I have attended the monthly Positive Catholics groups ever since, hardly missing a meeting. People are friendly and kind. Loving-kindness in action is what I witness, and that’s not something found in every HIV peer support organisation or every church. After a while, I was invited to actually lead a meeting, which was daunting at first. But with support and encouragement I learned how to facilitate the meetings myself. With other members, I welcome new people, as I was once welcomed, into this fragile Christian community.
I won’t say that I’ve returned to Church, I haven’t. But whenever I am with these sisters and brothers of ours living with HIV, I feel at home, in the presence of God, and that is what church means to me. I have come a long way, and grown in confidence regarding my HIV status. I am less afraid. I have rediscovered the Good News, the Gospel sustains me. I am just very comfortable to call myself a Catholic man.