HIV & Faith Communities:
From Silence to Solidarity

For many people, a church, mosque or other faith community offers social support and a place to discuss health. Its influence varies across individuals and communities. Religious affiliation does not necessarily mean regular attendance, and not everyone is religious.

Faith leaders and congregations can be partners in HIV education and services. Their influence can also reinforce exclusion when HIV or sexuality is treated as shameful. Research and community programs illustrate both possibilities; they do not establish that every congregation has the same role.

This page is about both sides of that story: the harm that faith communities have done and the extraordinary work that many are now doing — and what it takes to close the gap between the two.

Black/African American people are disproportionately affected by HIV. Pew’s 2021 report describes religious identity and participation using a survey conducted in 2019–2020. Christian identity is not a measure of current congregational attendance or participation in an HIV program.12

Stigma and silence can make HIV discussion difficult. A qualitative Memphis study described faith leaders’ concerns about sexuality, secrecy and judgment. It did not measure deaths attributable to congregational silence or establish a causal effect on the epidemic. 4

Southern communities, including Florida, have substantial HIV service needs. Local faith partnerships should respond to those needs without assuming that every resident shares a religion. See our HIV in the South article for dated regional surveillance and context.

The Balm In Gilead’s own history describes Pernessa C. Seele’s concern about neglect of people living and dying with AIDS in Harlem. In October 1989 she initiated the Harlem Week of Prayer for the Healing of AIDS. This is a documented local history, not a description of every faith community’s response.3

The campaign brought several religious sectors together around AIDS awareness. Its subsequent history includes education, clergy organizing and service partnerships. Those developments demonstrate how faith communities could respond to a need that participants felt had been neglected.

HIV stigma in faith communities is not identical to HIV stigma in general. It is layered — and often more potent — because it is wrapped in moral and theological authority. When a pastor implies from the pulpit that HIV is God's judgment, or when a congregation's silence communicates that HIV is unspeakable, the message carries the weight of divine sanction.

A 2020 qualitative study held four focus groups with 26 Black faith leaders from four Christian denominations in Memphis, Tennessee. Participants described restrictions on sexual-health discussion, secrecy and stigma related to HIV and sexuality. This small, locally recruited sample does not represent all Black churches, faith leaders or Southern congregations.4

Participants discussed how judgment about same-sex relationships can obstruct HIV education. Such accounts help identify barriers that congregations can address. The study did not compare the amount of harm across populations or establish that no one in a stigmatizing congregation can obtain testing or support.

The Memphis discussions also addressed silence about sexual health and concerns about stigma when seeking information. Leaders’ accounts should be understood as their perspectives; they are not a representative survey of women’s experiences or proof of a single historical cause.

The picture is not static. Across the country, and particularly in the South, faith communities are changing — slowly, unevenly, but genuinely. The shift began with individual leaders who decided that pastoral care required confronting HIV, that compassion required engaging with the realities of their congregants' lives, and that the mission of the church could not exclude the people most in need of it.

The Balm In Gilead’s timeline documents the growth of organized faith engagement during the 1990s. Its history shows one movement’s development; it does not establish when or whether all Black churches changed their theology.510

Today, some congregations host HIV testing events. Some partner with local health departments and Ryan White clinics to offer services on-site. Some have trained health ministers who serve as bridges between their congregation and the healthcare system. Some have eliminated the language of shame from their HIV conversations entirely, framing HIV as a health issue requiring compassion rather than a moral issue requiring judgment.

Wake Forest University’s Faith Coordinating Center supports training, grantmaking and storytelling about HIV-related stigma. Check the center’s current program pages for application windows and eligibility; availability and funding are not guaranteed.11

A pilot study randomized four Kansas City churches, involving 543 participants, to a tailored HIV education/testing intervention or comparison condition. At six months, intervention participants were 2.2 times as likely to report an HIV test. The small number of churches, selection bias and substantial follow-up loss limit generalization. This study does not establish improvements in every measure of stigma or long-term care engagement.6

If you are a faith leader, health minister, or congregant who wants your community to engage meaningfully with HIV — in Florida, in the South, anywhere — this is where to begin.

Partner with a local HIV organization. Ryan White-funded clinics and community health organizations are often actively looking for faith community partners. A simple agreement to share testing information, host a testing event, or refer members who need care to specific providers can be transformative without requiring any theological change in the congregation's broader positions.

Explore training for a health ministry. Ask a local health department, HIV service provider or the Wake Forest center about relevant training. Define each volunteer’s role and confidentiality practices; lay volunteers should refer medical questions to qualified clinicians rather than promise expertise or privacy protections they cannot provide.

Offer practical care without judgment. Meals, transport, companionship and referrals can be useful. Ask people what support they want and respect boundaries. Programs should also address any exclusion or stigmatizing practices that undermine welcome.

If you are a person living with HIV whose faith community is important to you — and whose faith community has not always been a safe place — you are not alone. You are also not wrong to want both.

Faith may offer meaning and support, and a congregation may also be a source of stigma. Experiences vary. Accurate information is part of a respectful response: people who achieve and maintain a viral load below 200 copies/mL do not transmit HIV through sex (U=U).9

You do not owe your congregation your HIV status. You are not required to disclose. If your congregation is not a safe place for you right now, that is the congregation's failure, not yours. There are congregations — including many in Florida — that are explicitly welcoming and affirming, that have done the theological and communal work required to be a genuine community of care for people with HIV.

Wake Forest’s Faith Coordinating Center describes its partners and programs on its official website. Contact the center or local HIV organizations for suggestions, and ask any congregation directly about its approach to confidentiality, sexuality and HIV. A directory listing alone is not a guarantee of safety.11