World AIDS Day Communion Liturgy,
written by Rev. Dr. Kelle J. Brown

 

Rev. Dr. Kelle Brown consecrating the beautiful chalice and patent created for the ministry of the Braxton Institute by Chief Lynette Allston, Nottoway Indian Tribe of Virginia, ceramic artist. World AIDS Day, December 1, 2024.

 

Invitation

We are children of remembrance. On this World AIDS Day, we gather with bowed heads
and longing hearts at this open and gracious table, making real the beloved community.
Let us remember those who have died from HIV and AIDS in the shadows with stigma
and discrimination in the wake.  Let us remember the queer community that took care of
each other because too many were largely ignored by the Reagan administration, and
appropriate health care could not be assumed.  

As we approach this table, let us be reminded of Black, Brown and other minoritized
ones whose lives and struggles were not only stigmatized, but pushed underground by
homophobia mixed with racism. 

This meal is for all who seek healing and hope in the face of stigma, grief and loss. This
meal is for those who in Advent wait for the breaking of a day that has too long been
delayed and denied.  Jesus invites us to break bread together, to listen to the sounds of
each other’s hearts–hearing each percussive beat as a sign of our shared humanity.

Prayers of the People

Compassionate God, we are caught in the tension between where we’ve been as a
people of faith, where we are now, and where we’ll go from here.  We remember those
who died alone, rejected by family and society because of HIV and AIDS. We lift every
person lost to the virus.  Forgive us for our collective delay to act; forgive us when we
use a red ribbon and marketing to cover our lack of action.

We are children of remembrance.  This day, we lift the names of activists like Hydeia
Broadbent, Reggie Williams, Essex Hemphill, Dolzura Cortez, and Ortez Alderson who
fought tirelessly for justice and dignity. We lift Cleve Jones, Ryan White, Betty Makoni,
and the many activists and beloved ones whose names stream like sacred, colorful
melodies across panels of the AIDS quilt…and the names that are unstitched and left
unsung.

We pray for minoritized communities disproportionately impacted by this epidemic; for
the global majority who live with this disease day by day. We remember that our world
grieves the people of whom the virus robbed us:  Alvin Ailey, whose choreography
celebrated Black culture; Rock Hudson, whose handsome face graced the big screen;
Sylvester, whose voice and music made us feel mighty real; Freddie Mercury, who
rocked us; Arthur Ashe, who, through tennis, conveyed dignity and strength. We honor
their creativity, their resistance, their humanity and the thousands of others equally
beautiful in their humanity. We thank you, Creating God, for the medical advancements
that allow us to live alongside so many courageous ones who live and love with a
positive status.

We pray for the children orphaned, the partners left behind, the dreams unfulfilled, the
families left scrambling to simply be with their loved ones when their relationships went
unacknowledged. 

O God, heal our world of the stigma, fear, and apathy that allow this suffering to
continue. Just as we await the Christ child, help us to do so knowing the power of
movement as we push toward the cure to AIDS and HIV for the global liberation of your
children.  Give us courage to speak truth to power, to prioritize the vulnerable and
marginalized, and to embrace those cast aside while most impacted. In the name of
Christ, who touches the untouchable without hesitation, with intention and love, we pray.
Amen.

Words of Institution

On the night he was betrayed, Jesus stayed among those he loved.  He stayed and
waited, eating together with them. He took the bread, gave thanks, broke it and said:

“This is my body, broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” May we remember,
too, the broken bodies of our siblings who live with HIV and died of AIDS,
acknowledging it is our time to bind and heal.

In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying:

“This cup is the covenant poured out for many. Do this, as often as you drink it, in
remembrance of me.” May we make a new covenant this day to remember the blood
unnecessarily shed due to fear and stigma, claiming life over viruses and ignorance.

As we share this meal, may this table remind us that all are worthy of love, dignity, and
remembrance. As we eat and drink, may we be nourished to continue the fight until HIV
and AIDS are no more.

God of justice and liberation,
bless this bread and juice for our journey—
Incite our passion to dream of a world where all will thrive and all of God’s children will
be made whole. Amen.

© Kelle J. Brown 2024

Used by permission.