Many associate the HIV/AIDS panic that raged out of control in the early '80's with a young child named, Ryan White. After learning of his diagnosis of HIV/AIDS from blood that was contaminated, school officials in Indiana refused to readmit him to school. Under enormous pressure, numerous threats and acts of violence the family eventually moved to a new state.

In 1988, Lazarus House Ministries faced its own battle in the City of Lawrence regarding housing for homeless HIV/AIDS patients. At the time it was not uncommon for those suffering from the disease to spend their final days alone, shunned by their parents, families and friends. Lazarus House hoped to open a compassionate, loving home for patients in the mid-to final stages of the HIV/AIDS disease who had no place to go. A site on the corner of Greenwood and Essex Street was chosen but opposition from the neighborhood association and City was strong and the project was quickly shut down.

It was a lengthy five years before another site in Lawrence, at 155 Franklin Street, was found. The rambling, Victorian house located on the property was formerly used as a Teen Detention Center by State officials. It was rundown, decaying and in need of extensive renovations. Extreme care was taken during construction to retain the original woodwork, fireplace, and a spiral staircase climbing to the third floor to give a warm, home-like atmosphere. Corpus Christi opened in 1993 and continues to be at capacity but no longer has a waiting list.  Currently, the people who come to Corpus Christi are patients, who with the help of staff and social workers are able to reintegrate back into the community by returning to school, working or volunteering. "The people who live at Corpus Christi are not just HIV residents, they often have other even more serious health issues. But more important, they are individuals with families, some are working toward their education and building a better future. We have guests who love to cook and create beautiful art. Corpus Christi is not a place where people come to die, but to learn to live their lives," stated Carmen Paulino, Corpus Christi Coordinator. It is a striking contrast from the early days when the residents were ostracized and often ousted from their homes or families because of fear and the ignorance that surrounded the HIV/AIDS virus.

Bridget Shaheen, Executive Director, recalled, "It was tragic when our first attempt at building an HIV/AIDS residence failed. For years we tried to continue the HIV/AIDS ministry by bringing patients to doctors visits, talking with them, or sometimes it was as simple as giving them a hug because so many hadn't been touched by a bare hand in a very long time."

"After our struggle in the City," Shaheen continued, "we created a corpus of Christ and covered it using the newspaper articles written in opposition to the AIDS residence. Superimposed in ink over the articles we wrote the names of all of our friends who died of HIV/AIDS during the course of the next five years and beyond. This symbolic Jesus, who was once again mocked, spit on and set aside − this time because of HIV/AIDS − is the Christ we take down from the cross in our Chapel every year on Good Friday to remind us of everything that we are called to do in His name at Lazarus House . . . whether that is the cross of poverty or discrimination we are asked not just to see Jesus in the "Bread and Wine", but to see Jesus in the "Flesh and Blood" and to care for Him to the best of our ability."