I was attending an Evangelical convention on HIV/AIDS led by Rick and Kay Warren of Saddleback Church, and Bill and Lynn Hybles of Willowcreek Church in Chicago. Two years ago, I would have never imagined or concocted circumstances for any reason why I should be sitting in Saddleback Church in Orange County California amidst a thousand or so evangelical Pastors, church leaders and lay people- and certainly not for a first of its kind International conference on HIV/AIDS led by arguably one of the most, if not the most, influential Pastors in the Western Church. On November 30th, 2005, one day before Global AIDS Day, I found myself completely immersed in the single largest health crisis ever to face humanity in the history of the planet: the global HIV/AIDS pandemic.
About two years ago I was reborn of the Spirit. In God’s great love and rich mercy, and for nothing I could have done or ever do, He radically changed my heart. I was dead and He gave me life. The scales had fallen from my eyes and the Holy Spirit illuminated my mind and heart to the truth and hope of God’s written word. Prior to the revolution in my heart I cared for what the natural man cared for. By the power of the Spirit, God began to completely change my value system, the things that I used to pursue, to covet, to desire. He truly does give the desires of your heart for I know that the old ‘me’ never desired those things in God’s heart. In fact I despised them. I didn’t care about the homeless. I didn’t care about orphans in Africa. I didn’t care about the sick and the dying. I condemned welfare recipients and was repelled by homosexuals. I used to ‘thank’ God that I was not like those people. I was pretty proud of myself, how I had made better choices than them, was more talented than them, more deserving than them, more ‘good’ than them. God’s word, the sacrifice of the Son, the illumination of the Spirit, men who taught me and continue to ground my theology in strong reformed apostolic doctrine, a Scottish Pastor, an Irish rock star, a Church I love, an African Pastor, a small group of committed Christians on Sawgrass Lane, and my wife who is the blessing from God which I did not deserve, all culminated into moving me into action. For what good is our knowledge of God and Christ’s love if it does not result in loving obedience to our Lord?
I remember walking into an 8x10 foot shanty in the Mathare Valley, Africa’s second largest slum located in the eastern section of Nairobi, the capital city of Kenya with a population of about 3 million people. There is an estimated 750,000 to 1 million residents existing in the 1 mile by 3 mile Mathare Valley slum. I held orphaned children of no more than 3 or 4 years old. I hugged AIDS infected women and children. I watched an orphaned boy of 12 holding his baby brother in his lap sharing his small bowl of food for the day, a picture that I will forever have etched in my mind. An orphan feeding the orphaned, the hungry giving food to the hungry, the hopeless imparting hope, the abandoned holding the most vulnerable. I know this boys name as well. His name is Duncan. And there are other slum boys I know by name: Isaac, Stephen, Douglas, and Moses. You see something happened during that time in Africa while I was with the least of these, the poor, the abandoned, the sick, the orphaned, the widow- they became names and faces and smells and touches and smiles and tears and sweat and most significantly, human. When I look at pictures or our DVD from that time and place I don’t see poor hungry orphans. I see Duncan. I see Isaac. I see Stephen and Douglas. I see Moses. It’s personal. I know them and they know me. And I cannot escape how unsettled and disturbed I have been even now as I write. Oh some days go by and I don’t think about them, kind of like going to work and not thinking about your own kids at home. The diversion from the ones you care about is temporary but in your heart they always remain
I have been praying for many months for God to break my heart for the things that breaks his. For Him to make me weep for the things he weeps about. To focus my compassion and concern on those whom He most desperately loves and cares about. As I prepared to go to the HIV/AIDS conference I prayed a very specific prayer. I asked God to send me a ‘man or woman of peace’, who is open to my vision for the Mathare Valley slum and with influence, that God’s blessing might fall upon him and in return he might bless me and our Kenyan ministry as well as my Church’s great commission and great commandment call to the world. I also prayed for God to personalize the HIV/AIDS pandemic for me. I asked him to put a face on this disease, a disease which for almost my entire life I could care less about, with homosexuals who were dying because they deserved it, a disease that didn’t impact me- I wasn’t gay.
Let me bring you back to me sitting in the large worship center as Rick Warren is finishing up the mornings general session. I’m sitting among a thousand or so people and Rick is speaking about the devastation caused by the stigmatization of HIV/AIDS; a stigma that affects HIV/AIDS victims in many, many ways not only in Africa but all over the world. I’m thinking to myself, ‘this issue of stigma is so blatantly wrong, evil, and unimaginable. How can an Africa community take an AIDS infected woman, infected by her husband who is now dead, and stone her to death because they hold her responsible for his death? How can schools in African countries deny children access to education because they have HIV/AIDS? This issue of stigma has got to go! There is no room for this intolerable cruelty and stupidity.’ And then God spoke to me. He said, “You want to remove the AIDS stigma in Africa Mike? Why don’t you start with yourself?” And then in my heart, these words were spoken: “can I truly care, and pray for, and risk for, and have compassion for the dying AIDS orphan in Africa when I despise and am repelled by a gay man dying of AIDS in a hospital bed in San Francisco? How is it I cry for one and condemn the other?” Lunch was announced and I stood catalytically, wallowing in my own self-disgust and self-despising.
I immediately walked out to go to the restroom and as I turned the corner I came face to face with a man about my height, dark hair, and sunglasses. His name tag showed the name John Forbes. We practically ran into each other and immediately my heart recognized him as I looked from his name tag to his face. I said, “I know you” and introduced myself, “John Forbes I’m Mike Vinson.”
We stood there for the next 15 minutes slowly piecing together the fabric of a past that would make us realize that some 17 years ago, he and I along with a third friend, were once very close to each other. We were actors studying at the same academy in San Francisco and room mates. For two years a very long time ago, he and I were the best and closest of friends. We studied together, roomed together, ate together, drank together, worked on stage together, and lived lives separated from God together. “John, the last time I saw you, you were smoking like a chimney, drinking like a fish and I was leaving to attend the Royal Academy of Arts in London to continue my studies in theater.” John proceeded to fill in the blanks of his life after we separated 17 years ago. He told me that at the time he and I met he had run away from the Church. Having come out of a hyper-charismatic church upbringing and many bad experiences there, he basically plunged into depravity upon my journey to London. While we were friends I never knew he grew up in the Church. Over a course of years, circumstances and rebellion, John became an alcoholic. He soon began smoking crack cocaine. He flirted with bi-sexual encounters and ultimately engaged in a totally homosexual lifestyle. He moved to New York where he was relatively successful in theatre. He also learned in New York that he had become HIV positive living with AIDS. I didn’t know what to say. I may have slightly swayed as my heart broke. I stood there quietly, listening to his story, hiding the mix of emotions in my eyes behind my sunglasses. We exchanged surreal expressions of how God redeemed our lives, how we possibly could have run into each other here of all places, of all the things that run through your head when you experience a situation like this one. We parted for the lunch break as he was speaking at one of the break out workshops in 30 minutes and promised to meet afterward for dinner.
I ate quietly alone. I tried not to think too much. One and a half days of being confronted with reality, despair and tragedy of the world’s single greatest health pandemic was already weighing on my heart. My moment of repentance from the AIDS stigma in my own life was enough to push me over my emotional tolerance level. God’s divine appointment for me and John Forbes was all I could take.
Jump ahead in the afternoon with me. It is now close to the end of the conference and Rick Warren is closing powerfully and inspiringly. “I want all the people with HIV/AIDS here tonight to come up on stage with me so that we can pray together as we end”, Rick says. We stand to pray all thousand of us. I close my eyes and Rick leads us in a prayer that I wish I could remember. I do remember holding hands with a man on my left and a woman on my right whom I had befriended throughout the conference. I cried out to God in my heart. I cried for strength, I cried for the world and the pain of AIDS. I cried for myself. I cried because I knew that I could not escape the truth of HIV/AIDS and what God commands us to do about it. I knew that my life had been changed for ever- according to God’s will, his good and perfect will.
I opened my eyes, wiped away the tears, and immediately began staring at John Forbes on stage as a person living with HIV/AIDS. There were about 35 people living with AIDS holding hands with Rick and Kay Warren as we all sang ‘Amazing Grace’. Then they all began to walk down to the floor space and lined up in front of the stage. Rick said that he was going to go down and hug each of God’s children, his new friends, and the people he loves. As he tearfully began to hug each person with AIDS a sea of people began to leave their seats moving forward and forming long lines in front of each person living with AIDS. I moved slowly to the front of the stage. As I was in line I watched those in front of me hug John Forbes one by one. As I approached John to hug him I began to shake, fighting back tears. It was my turn to hug him. Standing face to face, eye to eye, I embraced him in silence. And then words came from my mouth, “forgive me John.” Still embracing I looked him in the face with tears I could not control. And then the Spirit of God fell upon my entire being in a way that I have never felt it. In that instance, holding him but actually being held up, I spoke these words: “John I prayed for God to put a face on AIDS, to make it real, to make it personal for me. John I am sorry that you have had to live the life you have lived just so I would care about AIDS, just so… that I could love you with AIDS. God made this personal for me John, He gave me you. He gave me you John, and I am so sorry.” I moved to his right and broke down. In that moment I loved him, hated myself, didn’t understand anything, was totally confused, tired and grateful.
I made my way back to my seat as people were shuffling around. In my grief the woman who I had befriended knelt down beside me, took out a vile of oil and rubbed a spot of oil on my forehead, my temples and my chin. And then she put her hand on my heart and on my head and began to pray for me. God is good. Out of nowhere this woman, his Church, ministered to me. For 20 minutes she prayed over me and I was restored to functionality. She gave me the vial of oil and told me that when I am called to heal the wounds of another to use it. God answers prayers. He made me care about what he cares about. He broke my heart for the things that breaks his. He made me weep for the things he weeps about. 40 million people with HIV/AIDS, each with a face and a name just like John Forbes.
Oh God forgive me for the resource, the time, the money, the influence, and all of ‘me’ I wasted on the things of this world. Oh please forgive me Father for all the hateful words and thoughts I threw towards your precious ones. Forgive me Father. Forgive me Father. Amen.
A short aside…
About two years ago I was reborn of the Spirit. In God’s great love and rich mercy, and for nothing I could have done or ever do, He radically changed my heart. I was dead and He gave me life. The scales had fallen from my eyes and the Holy Spirit illuminated my mind and heart to the truth and hope of God’s written word. Prior to the revolution in my heart I cared for what the natural man cared for. By the power of the Spirit, God began to completely change my value system, the things that I used to pursue, to covet, to desire. He truly does give the desires of your heart for I know that the old ‘me’ never desired those things in God’s heart. In fact I despised them. I didn’t care about the homeless. I didn’t care about orphans in Africa. I didn’t care about the sick and the dying. I condemned welfare recipients and was repelled by homosexuals. I used to ‘thank’ God that I was not like those people. I was pretty proud of myself, how I had made better choices than them, was more talented than them, more deserving than them, more ‘good’ than them. God’s word, the sacrifice of the Son, the illumination of the Spirit, men who taught me and continue to ground my theology in strong reformed apostolic doctrine, a Scottish Pastor, an Irish rock star, a Church I love, an African Pastor, a small group of committed Christians on Sawgrass Lane, and my wife who is the blessing from God which I did not deserve, all culminated into moving me into action. For what good is our knowledge of God and Christ’s love if it does not result in loving obedience to our Lord?
I remember walking into an 8x10 foot shanty in the Mathare Valley, Africa’s second largest slum located in the eastern section of Nairobi, the capital city of Kenya with a population of about 3 million people. There is an estimated 750,000 to 1 million residents existing in the 1 mile by 3 mile Mathare Valley slum. I held orphaned children of no more than 3 or 4 years old. I hugged AIDS infected women and children. I watched an orphaned boy of 12 holding his baby brother in his lap sharing his small bowl of food for the day, a picture that I will forever have etched in my mind. An orphan feeding the orphaned, the hungry giving food to the hungry, the hopeless imparting hope, the abandoned holding the most vulnerable. I know this boys name as well. His name is Duncan. And there are other slum boys I know by name: Isaac, Stephen, Douglas, and Moses. You see something happened during that time in Africa while I was with the least of these, the poor, the abandoned, the sick, the orphaned, the widow- they became names and faces and smells and touches and smiles and tears and sweat and most significantly, human. When I look at pictures or our DVD from that time and place I don’t see poor hungry orphans. I see Duncan. I see Isaac. I see Stephen and Douglas. I see Moses. It’s personal. I know them and they know me. And I cannot escape how unsettled and disturbed I have been even now as I write. Oh some days go by and I don’t think about them, kind of like going to work and not thinking about your own kids at home. The diversion from the ones you care about is temporary but in your heart they always remain
I have been praying for many months for God to break my heart for the things that breaks his. For Him to make me weep for the things he weeps about. To focus my compassion and concern on those whom He most desperately loves and cares about. As I prepared to go to the HIV/AIDS conference I prayed a very specific prayer. I asked God to send me a ‘man or woman of peace’, who is open to my vision for the Mathare Valley slum and with influence, that God’s blessing might fall upon him and in return he might bless me and our Kenyan ministry as well as my Church’s great commission and great commandment call to the world. I also prayed for God to personalize the HIV/AIDS pandemic for me. I asked him to put a face on this disease, a disease which for almost my entire life I could care less about, with homosexuals who were dying because they deserved it, a disease that didn’t impact me- I wasn’t gay.
Let me bring you back to me sitting in the large worship center as Rick Warren is finishing up the mornings general session. I’m sitting among a thousand or so people and Rick is speaking about the devastation caused by the stigmatization of HIV/AIDS; a stigma that affects HIV/AIDS victims in many, many ways not only in Africa but all over the world. I’m thinking to myself, ‘this issue of stigma is so blatantly wrong, evil, and unimaginable. How can an Africa community take an AIDS infected woman, infected by her husband who is now dead, and stone her to death because they hold her responsible for his death? How can schools in African countries deny children access to education because they have HIV/AIDS? This issue of stigma has got to go! There is no room for this intolerable cruelty and stupidity.’ And then God spoke to me. He said, “You want to remove the AIDS stigma in Africa Mike? Why don’t you start with yourself?” And then in my heart, these words were spoken: “can I truly care, and pray for, and risk for, and have compassion for the dying AIDS orphan in Africa when I despise and am repelled by a gay man dying of AIDS in a hospital bed in San Francisco? How is it I cry for one and condemn the other?” Lunch was announced and I stood catalytically, wallowing in my own self-disgust and self-despising.
I immediately walked out to go to the restroom and as I turned the corner I came face to face with a man about my height, dark hair, and sunglasses. His name tag showed the name John Forbes. We practically ran into each other and immediately my heart recognized him as I looked from his name tag to his face. I said, “I know you” and introduced myself, “John Forbes I’m Mike Vinson.”
We stood there for the next 15 minutes slowly piecing together the fabric of a past that would make us realize that some 17 years ago, he and I along with a third friend, were once very close to each other. We were actors studying at the same academy in San Francisco and room mates. For two years a very long time ago, he and I were the best and closest of friends. We studied together, roomed together, ate together, drank together, worked on stage together, and lived lives separated from God together. “John, the last time I saw you, you were smoking like a chimney, drinking like a fish and I was leaving to attend the Royal Academy of Arts in London to continue my studies in theater.” John proceeded to fill in the blanks of his life after we separated 17 years ago. He told me that at the time he and I met he had run away from the Church. Having come out of a hyper-charismatic church upbringing and many bad experiences there, he basically plunged into depravity upon my journey to London. While we were friends I never knew he grew up in the Church. Over a course of years, circumstances and rebellion, John became an alcoholic. He soon began smoking crack cocaine. He flirted with bi-sexual encounters and ultimately engaged in a totally homosexual lifestyle. He moved to New York where he was relatively successful in theatre. He also learned in New York that he had become HIV positive living with AIDS. I didn’t know what to say. I may have slightly swayed as my heart broke. I stood there quietly, listening to his story, hiding the mix of emotions in my eyes behind my sunglasses. We exchanged surreal expressions of how God redeemed our lives, how we possibly could have run into each other here of all places, of all the things that run through your head when you experience a situation like this one. We parted for the lunch break as he was speaking at one of the break out workshops in 30 minutes and promised to meet afterward for dinner.
I ate quietly alone. I tried not to think too much. One and a half days of being confronted with reality, despair and tragedy of the world’s single greatest health pandemic was already weighing on my heart. My moment of repentance from the AIDS stigma in my own life was enough to push me over my emotional tolerance level. God’s divine appointment for me and John Forbes was all I could take.
Jump ahead in the afternoon with me. It is now close to the end of the conference and Rick Warren is closing powerfully and inspiringly. “I want all the people with HIV/AIDS here tonight to come up on stage with me so that we can pray together as we end”, Rick says. We stand to pray all thousand of us. I close my eyes and Rick leads us in a prayer that I wish I could remember. I do remember holding hands with a man on my left and a woman on my right whom I had befriended throughout the conference. I cried out to God in my heart. I cried for strength, I cried for the world and the pain of AIDS. I cried for myself. I cried because I knew that I could not escape the truth of HIV/AIDS and what God commands us to do about it. I knew that my life had been changed for ever- according to God’s will, his good and perfect will.
I opened my eyes, wiped away the tears, and immediately began staring at John Forbes on stage as a person living with HIV/AIDS. There were about 35 people living with AIDS holding hands with Rick and Kay Warren as we all sang ‘Amazing Grace’. Then they all began to walk down to the floor space and lined up in front of the stage. Rick said that he was going to go down and hug each of God’s children, his new friends, and the people he loves. As he tearfully began to hug each person with AIDS a sea of people began to leave their seats moving forward and forming long lines in front of each person living with AIDS. I moved slowly to the front of the stage. As I was in line I watched those in front of me hug John Forbes one by one. As I approached John to hug him I began to shake, fighting back tears. It was my turn to hug him. Standing face to face, eye to eye, I embraced him in silence. And then words came from my mouth, “forgive me John.” Still embracing I looked him in the face with tears I could not control. And then the Spirit of God fell upon my entire being in a way that I have never felt it. In that instance, holding him but actually being held up, I spoke these words: “John I prayed for God to put a face on AIDS, to make it real, to make it personal for me. John I am sorry that you have had to live the life you have lived just so I would care about AIDS, just so… that I could love you with AIDS. God made this personal for me John, He gave me you. He gave me you John, and I am so sorry.” I moved to his right and broke down. In that moment I loved him, hated myself, didn’t understand anything, was totally confused, tired and grateful.
I made my way back to my seat as people were shuffling around. In my grief the woman who I had befriended knelt down beside me, took out a vile of oil and rubbed a spot of oil on my forehead, my temples and my chin. And then she put her hand on my heart and on my head and began to pray for me. God is good. Out of nowhere this woman, his Church, ministered to me. For 20 minutes she prayed over me and I was restored to functionality. She gave me the vial of oil and told me that when I am called to heal the wounds of another to use it. God answers prayers. He made me care about what he cares about. He broke my heart for the things that breaks his. He made me weep for the things he weeps about. 40 million people with HIV/AIDS, each with a face and a name just like John Forbes.
Oh God forgive me for the resource, the time, the money, the influence, and all of ‘me’ I wasted on the things of this world. Oh please forgive me Father for all the hateful words and thoughts I threw towards your precious ones. Forgive me Father. Forgive me Father. Amen.
A short aside…
What the devil intends for evil God turns to good. John is a recovered alcoholic, recovered drug user and no longer smokes cigarettes. John has also completely abandoned a homosexual lifestyle and is pursuing normal heterosexual relationships. He was invited by Kay Warren to speak at the ‘Disturbing Voices’ HIV/AIDS conference at Saddleback Church and left the very next day for 3 months of preaching and evangelizing in India and Western Europe. He speaks of his deliverance from the grip of Satan, his rejection by the Church, and is breaking the stigma of AIDS all over the world, one opportunity at a time.
He also brought me to repentance and matured my faith in one afternoon. I believe that my repentance and coming to understand God’s heart on the global AIDS pandemic is the foundation necessary for the Church of Jesus Christ to spiritually and authoritatively engage and eradicate this disease in our generation- but it first had to be eradicated in me. Thank you John Forbes- the face of AIDS for Mike Vinson.
He also brought me to repentance and matured my faith in one afternoon. I believe that my repentance and coming to understand God’s heart on the global AIDS pandemic is the foundation necessary for the Church of Jesus Christ to spiritually and authoritatively engage and eradicate this disease in our generation- but it first had to be eradicated in me. Thank you John Forbes- the face of AIDS for Mike Vinson.
John Forbes (in black to the left) standing with Kay Warren at the 'Disturbing Voices' HIV/AIDS conference held at Saddleback Church. John, a person living with HIV/AIDS, awaits a hug from Pastor Rick Warren. 
1 comment:
Just makes me want to love you more, Mike. Thanks for sharing that wonderful testimony... you and Jodie are such special friends - can't wait to see all that the Lord has in store for you. Oh! and don't forget to read the book I gave you, "Heavenly Man". : )
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