"What did he say?"
 
"He said his HIV was a gift from God."
 
"Did he now. Great, eh? And I suppose the stocking filler would be an apple, orange and a small handy packet of terminal cancer?"
 
Paul had already explained how he had finally come to terms with his being gay. That was during his second year at university. His parents had found it difficult to accept and, while not rejecting him, had made it fairly clear that it might be a good idea if he did not bring too many of his friends home. And then he got the virus. And he was ill. Very ill. And somehow they could cope with that better.
 
"Yes, a gift from God." Paul repeated. "A gift which has made me realise the value of life. My life. The beauty of the ordinary. The depth of the daily. I now think, in an ironic way, my quality of life has improved. The possible proximity of my death has intensified the actual presence and value of life all around me. Thank you."
 
The applause died down. I needed a drink. And a chat. And then a place to think by myself.

 I’d gone on this day’s course for those interested in working with people who had HIV or AIDS. I just presumed we were going to be told about the virus and how and when it developed into full-blown AIDS. I did not expect the speakers on the course to actually have HIV or AIDS. I had gone to get some information. Answers. But I came away with questions. About myself. About my God.

 Now my God has never had any favourites. Black, white or gay. He created us all in his own image. Or is it her image? I could accept either. I didn’t see it as that important. But I really found this ‘gift from God’ idea hard to accept. How could a good God, like mine, actually give someone a life-threatening virus? Something bad. Even though, I suppose you could say, he did not directly give it.

 The gay person, man or woman, I could accept. Due to biology or genetic transmission or whatever, people are who or what they are. Certain colour. Certain temperament. Certain sexual orientation. That’s life. But what I was having a problem with was accepting that a condition, a bad condition, that came from free activity – in this case, sexual activity – could be a gift from God? But there again. Is lung cancer, as a result of 50 cigarettes a day for 40 years, a gift from God? Is brain damage, as a result of professional boxing, a gift from God? Is a malformed baby, as a result of the lovemaking of a couple with known genetic defects, a gift from God? Do we need to say yes to all these – and more?

 Our tendencies and skills and character make-ups are all part of us. As are our weaknesses. And we live our lives accordingly. Not always sensibly. Not always responsibly. The result is the person I am at this present moment. The now-me. That is God’s gift. The God of the world-now. The me-now. It is at this level. I think, that we have to talk about gifts.

 With this in mind, I don’t think that we need to state specifically that AIDS or HIV or cancer or anything negative is a gift from God. And I don’t think that we are talking here about just a question of language, though that is part of it. What I think, we need to look at more is the question of our God being a God of the now. A God who allows negatives in the past but who always exists in the positive present. Who forgives and forgets the past, because the past does not exist. A God who is the eternal now. Who takes me as I am – and I always am. I never was and never will be, the me I am now. I am now the gift of God because he wants me and loves me as I am now. He created me for now.

 But let’s look at other non-good happenings allowed by our loving God. The mystery side of our God. The child of six who died of a brain tumour. The young girl of twenty three who died under anaesthetic. The baby boy kidnapped and murdered. Are these gifts? If so, to whom? The parents? The child? The family? So many examples from the dark side of our God. The mystery side. The side we try to explain in the language of the God we believe we can accept. But maybe the dark side of our God is only dark when looked at through our limited vision? Maybe there is other light than ours?

 And despite all the reasonings and justifications and non-traditional language masking traditional philosophy. I am still faced with the statement of a man who stuck me as being honest and sincere, who said: "I regard my HIV as a gift from God." Now it is quite possible that he got the language wrong. But maybe not. We talk of a good God and a positive God and the like, but it is all according to us. God in our own image and likeness. Is ‘good’ the same in all languages? Maybe what we judge to be bad or negative could be part of a greater good? I am inclined to be sympathetic to what Paul said, because I heard him say it. I can accept a God who allows HIV. But do I need to go further and accept a God who gives HIV? Who might want the patient to see the good that is in the illness as well as the good that can flow from it?

 The ultimate gift from God to me is the person I am now at this present moment. This is what I call the now-me. And there is more to me than the good. I know, that just below the surface of myself there is a potential to be worse, as well as better, than I am. Do I have to say that this is the part of me that God is not responsible for? I don’t know. What I do know is that my God is the God of the now-me. That is the whole me.