Offer still stands… Blackberries Ice Cream and Coffee gift certificate for the first person to identify the location of the eyes on this month’s banner, taken from a mural in Denver. (Click on “comments” with your guess.) No takers last month, so here’s a gimme hint: it’s in an alley just off “the longest street in America.”

I went to the church picnic Friday which was held across the street from the church at Frederick Douglas Park. The park is small because it’s tucked away between the dead end of 30th Avenue and Franklin Street on the west and Gilpin Street on the east. It’s one of those parks built years ago as part of a crime prevention movement which created parks in the middle of streets and cul-de-sacs in inner city neighborhoods. The theory was that criminal activity and drive-by shootings would decrease since cars couldn’t speed through the hood. The green space and playgrounds would attract children and families, driving the gangstas and hoodlums into the basements.

So there we were, enjoying the best of a home-cooked potluck meal: chicken on the grill and hotdogs for the kids, potato salad, deviled eggs, soda, etc etc., typical picnic flora and fauna. The elementary kids were laughing and playing on the small playground next to the picnic tables and we were all behaving just like theory said we should. There was no crime to be found, as long as we ignored the East side Oldies 13 and Surenos 13 gang graffiti, ("E/S O X3" and "Sur13" in the vernacular of the competing cliques), scratched in knife prints and black marker on the slide...and the kid with a black bandana over his face riding his bike up Franklin, then back down 5 minutes later. Except now black bandana has cruised into the park (did the crime prevention planners anticipate this?) and is hitting on the older elementary girls in the inept social style of a 7th grade middle schooler working the 5th grade crowd. I drift away from the grill and closer to the playground, eavesdropping on the conversation as the kids gather round. Black bandana notices me hovering and draws me into a one-sided conversation by pulling a gun out of his belt with the declarative, "I’m not afraid of you."

Devon has never been out to eat – aside from McDonalds. His new tutor has been investing in Devon and his little brother and decided to spend the evening with them – movie, popcorn and huge slices of pizza. The boys talked about it for days.

That night Devon told his tutor that he had never been to a movie. His little brother interrupted and tried to correct him, reminding Devon of the time they sat on the roof of a car and watched a movie.

In fact they were parked far outside of a drive-in and were trying to watch the soundless film from an adjacent parking lot.

It’s different here. Like you cross a couple intersections and suddenly you’re in a foreign country.

Lately I have been of the conviction that the best way I can show the love of Christ to others, and embrace spiritual formation in Christ, is through constantly being aware of my attitude. I've been exploring what actually shapes my attitude, and I've come to this conclusion: my attitude is endlessly being shaped by one of my five senses, and often more than one.

I'm going to start posting reflections on my five senses, and how they contribute to my faith walk--a walk that constantly reflects the way I perceive, interact, engage, love, and think about the world. More importantly, my senses shape the way I artistically express my love for God, or lack thereof.

I’ll be asking you to interact with my thoughts, to help me determine what I am 1. hearing 2. seeing 3. feeling 4. tasting and 5. smelling. I'll also be using some fun scientific facts on each of these five senses from this great five senses website.

More Five Senses reflections, following up on my previous post...

Last night I watched the debut of Black.White. – a six-part docu-reality series executively directed by Ice Cube. The show centers on a black and white family that use makeup to trade races for several weeks as they attempt to “experience” the challenges/benefits of being a different race. All my senses were active on this one as I watched them wrestle with the many uncertainties revealed in their attitudes towards race.

My sense of sight was specifically active as I reminisced on the recent conversations/experiences I’ve had regarding racism. Does it still exist? Do I create it? Are political issues driven by it? Am I far too aware of being Mexican, or is it the same as being proud to be an American?

More Five Senses reflections, following up on my previous post...

Prior to becoming an H.I.V./AIDS tester and counselor I was a client advocate. In this role I spent much time with people living and dying with this illness by taking them to doctor visits, court appearances, grocery shopping, and much more. One of my clients from this period is now my friend. Yesterday we hung out while I waited for the next person to come into my office to receive their H.I.V./AIDS status.

The sense of touch was in full effect last night as I was acutely aware of how he responded to, and was in desperate need of, someone to touch him.

"If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' lend to 'sinners,' expecting to be repaid in full. But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful." (Luke 6:34-36)

Last night we experienced a moment in time we will not soon forget. A time when the words of Jesus truly developed faith and at the same time became real.

As many pool nights go, we had been working out difficulties for some kids, while attempting to meet the new kids--all at the same time. On this night, a young friend had returned after some absence and looked bad.

I love cinematography. Artistically speaking, films are always filled with so many obscurities and complexities. Many which serve to provide meaning, frame the story, and give the viewer an opportunity to experience the impact. I especially love foreign, independent, and documentary films. I’ve heard it said somewhere that "for people of faith, films are opportunities to engage with modern day parables.” Really?

For some time now I’ve wanted to do movie reviews. I’ve chosen "movie quotes" as my way to venture into this. I’ve noticed many profound quotes in so many films that are extremely powerful and thought-provoking. This is true both in and out of context.

I’ll be presenting these film reviews in two parts. First, I’ll share a quote, review it, and ask you to comment. Second, I’ll review the film. If you recognize the film from the quote, please comment without revealing the film. I'd like to keep the film a surprise until the review. The image with the first part will be a snippet from the actual film cover, so feel free to try to figure out the film.

I am no Siskel & Roeper, but if you know anything about me from this site, you know we’ll surely have some fun with this.

The Quote:
"What is more difficult? Being a woman or being a man? It’s hard being a man, and it’s difficult being a woman. But the most difficult thing is trying not to forget who you really want to be?"

For me, this quote gets at the core of what is challenging for all us humans when we unavoidably measure each other’s gender differences. The difficulties for women and men are certainly different. Yet the heart of the matter for me is focusing on who it is as a person I am trying to become. Even more so, transcending gender altogether, who am I "wanting" to be in Christ?

What are your thoughts on this quote?

The kids were all working on a dinner of mashed potatoes and fried chicken. Everyone was laughing and joking (you can do amazing things with mashed potatoes!) I was eating next to Kane and somewhere in between carrots and cheesecake he began to talk.

"Do you have a dad?"

"What?" I asked.

"Do you have a dad?"

"Yeah, I do Kane." I nodded.

"I don't have a dad." His voice was determined and broken all at the same time. To me the whole world was standing still as this little boy talked.

More Five Senses reflections, following up on my previous post...

Yesterday a song was sung during church where in beautiful harmony the chorus repeated, “God is love. Love one another. God is love. Love one another.” I normally make it a point to not pay attention during singing in church, and this post is a good example why. Perhaps the main reason is that while I enjoy the singing, I contemplate too deeply on the lyrics of songs, and process too heavily on the hurting world around me.

Yesterday was no different.

A friend asks some Rich Young Ruler questions on his blog, which I referenced on this one. The term Rich Young Ruler, of course, comes from an encounter Jesus had with a man who asked him, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Luke 18)

As a rich ruler (by global standards) who’s not getting any younger (by any standards), let me pass along some things I’ve tried:

Step 1: Give away your wealth and power
Step 2: Get to know and love people who don’t have wealth or power
Step 3: Repeat

One way I think of this is as a diet, and a wacko one at that—a desperation measure taken by somebody several hundred pounds overweight from the American Dream. Try it before it’s too late!

More Five Senses reflections, following up on my previous post...

Parenting is a challenge no matter where you find yourself on the economic scale. For parents on the lower end of the scale, it is options, or lack thereof, that ensure the severity of the challenge.

Last week I was in court and heard the following: 1. Despair in the voice of a father 2. A condensending tone in the voice of the magistrate 3. Apathy in the voice of a youth and 4. Commiserating sighs and whispers from others awaiting the judge’s attention, myself included. The sense of hearing was in full effect as I could tell that the sounds in that courtroom were wrought with pain, suffering, and chronic hopelessness. The Five Senses website says,

“Your ears pick up and send information about sounds to your brain in the form of nerve impulses…the brain [then] receives [these] impulses from the auditory nerve and [attempts to] give meaning to these sound impulses.”

I put my head down and listened, letting my brain attempt to give meaning to these particular sound impulses hovering over the chaos.

I called a friend today.

I apologized.

He forgave me. That was a relief.

I still feel ashamed.

This wasn’t a small deal. This is my best friend—a friend of 23 years. We haven’t spoken in a year and a half.

OK, so where am I at with the women’s group? Well I am not really sure at times, but things are happening. Not on my own of course; God is still pushing it along. Which means I'm supposed to keep pushing along too? In my first entry I said I was going to be starting a group at Joshua Station for women to come and share their stuff (whatever that looks like) and feel good about it and accepted! But there has been a lot going on since then. WOW, where to begin...

More Five Senses reflections, following up on my previous post...

The other night my wife and I tried something. We tried talking to our kids. Our three older girls mostly, ages seven, eight, and nine. We have a total of five kids with one on the way. This post is about a challenge facing the people we serve, a challenge that is intimately lived among the people we lovingly call our family.

All the senses were all in full effect for this one and I trust they will continue to help shape our attitude towards our kids, and our attitude towards others.

My wife and I have been exploring ways to share a version of faith with our kids that brings God closer to home, rather than make Him feel more distant. This isn’t easy, and we’re not very good at it, but we're trying. We know we’re not good at it, because it forces us to go somewhere we’d prefer to avoid. A place in their lives that is a source of great pain, a source we’ve largely contributed to.

I had the wonderful opportunity to attend a premiere screening of the HBO film Walkout. As a Chicana, it was a wonderful experience to see my, our, history being told before my eyes.

The film was but a glimpse into what the Chicano Movement was about. I must say, I had an overwhelming sense of pride come over me as the lights dimmed and the movie began, especially since my daughter now is able to see a part of her history on the big screen. Now she knows even more that her future opportunities in life are in part due to the efforts and struggles of many people. I also had an opportunity to meet Monctesuma Esparza, the producer of this film, who happens to be the ONLY Chicano producer in Hollywood.

I want to invite all of you to watch this movie that premires this Saturday on HBO, and ask that you share it's vision with others.

More Five Senses reflections, following up on my previous post...

When I began to reflect on how my five senses contributed to my attitude, I had no idea just how influential they really were. As I further delve into awareness of my senses, the more I realize that they not only shape my attitude towards others, but also my attitude and respones to many of my own life issues.

A while ago I posted Lepers of Our Day, a story about my life-long friend whose brother has AIDS. I dared to ask if he would consider writing a personal reflection on this issue. He emailed me the other day saying,

"The simple fact is that every time the phrase "My brother has AIDS" comes out of my mouth, I am faced with unimaginable pain and horror. So, it's true, I am avoiding looking this thing head-on...I was just a mess when I tried to put my thoughts down and am still not doing too well when I have to really think about this...so, give me some time to put some real thoughts down, the kind that will really help others in the same situation."

Amazingly, he followed through, and I am going to share with you his thoughts in full. All of the five senses are extremely present here in this post. Since his reflections are long I am going to suggest you read this in its entirety when you have a moment to give it some attention. That being said, his thoughts are truly serving to shape my attitude in Christ. Personal experience has much to say about how God shows us to love unconditionally, just as He loves us unconditionally.

I can think of no single event that has impacted my life, my home life, my work life, my Christian life more than the news that my younger brother has AIDS.

Every spring brings at least one vanload of college students streaming in to Denver. Each student brings enthusiasm and energy that always gives our staff a boost. We let all this energy helps us do some needed spring-cleaning, and of course love on the kids’ downtown. The beginning of the week was washday. Three girls and I loaded up about 30 blankets and headed off to the laundry mat. We waited and talked about the rest of the week as the blankets tumbled.

As we talked an older woman asked us about the work we did.

Ok, so my story continues as last Thursday night I went to meet with the women of Joshua Station. I presented to them the group I am going to start. I was extremely nervous at first. Specifically because I wasn't sure how they would take to the idea of it. I know that some of them, just from past conversations, were already a little skeptical, and for good reason. They've been hurt so many times before in groups just as I have, so I think that's where most of my nervousness came from.

Tony came into the kitchen during Street Church and pulled me aside.

“A.B.” his face was intent and showed a concern beyond his 12 years, “Why does God make all these bad things happen to us if He’s supposed to be good and strong?”

I was truly speechless. For one – what a question, and two – I had no idea that Tony was putting together such complex information. He’s a really smart kid.

And I'll be honest with you, I stumbled with what to say. Sure I could rail on about how we caused all this trouble or emphasize that God wants our love to be sincere so He gave us freedom and choice – but it just seemed so top shelf of the library rather than the urban streets we live on. These kids live out the things that wake us up in nightmares. They know darkness in a gripping tangible way.

The short answer to this question is that the kids end up on the streets for a million different reasons.

I would like to tell just one of their stories. Tally has lived in Colorado her whole life. Her dad was never part of her life and her mom has always struggled with a drug habit. Tally was passed around among relatives for as long as she can remember. When she wasn’t living with her mom, she was living with her grandparents or aunts and uncles. She never felt welcome.

In fact, when she was only 10 years old, she remembers her uncle asking her when she was going to run away. No one wanted her, so when Tally was 11 years old, she ran to the streets.

Last Saturday I had the pleasure to meet with some of the women from Joshua Station one on one. I’ve made it a point to do this with them for a few reasons, all of which revolve around sharing our stories with one another. Meeting with them gives me an opportunity to get to know them a little better, and for them to know me a bit more intimately. Through this exchange of rapport I began to ask them for some of their ideas of what this group should look like. I wanted to find out what it was that they desired to get out of coming to this sort of thing.

Women like us throughout our lives have constantly been involved with groups. Some have been voluntary, most have been mandatory. None of which we’ve had a shared sense of ownership. In meeting with them I wanted them to know…I wanted them to believe that this was different. They needed to trust that this was not Tiera’s group, but our group. The best way I can think to do this is by the followin: 1. Inviting them to share in the vision 2. Helping them feel like they have a vested interest 3. Transfering some of leadership ideas to them by letting them shape this group.

None of these are easily done.

It’s all about the Bible.

Seems like the longer I live, worship and serve in close proximity with people who suffer, the more complex many of life’s questions get. For some reason, I thought it would be the other way around. “Ministry on the margins” raises all sorts of issues – political, philosophical, cultural. As a follower of Christ, each drives me back to the Bible, hoping to discern God’s wisdom. The trouble is, a lot of my friends are digging into that same Bible with equal (or greater) intensity and integrity – and drawing different conclusions than me about important matters.

So I’ve been doing some reflecting on “how” we read the Bible. Sam has “asked” (i.e. forced) me to post some of those reflections over time, mostly because he likes seeing me in the middle of controversy.

Last week I learned a lesson in love that this week I have to put in practice. We traveled last weekend to a college to interview interns for the summer. These trips give us a time share the story of God’s work and see the working of the Holy Spirit in their lives. During our visit, I stayed with some dear friends. Their family is full of love and faithfulness and I am uplifted whenever I get to be with them. One member of this family teaches me more about Jesus every time I am with her. Her name is Katy. Katy contains in her the most powerful gift of love I have ever seen. I realized this time it was more than just love.

To: The Man
From: A social activist-writer
Re: Letter of resignation

Dear me,

I’ve been in the throes of a personal crisis, that’s why I’ve stopped working and put off writing for several weeks now. It all started when I realized that the people who are supposed to read my writing aren’t the ones I’m trained to address, and those I feel inspired to help may not need it.

You see, I always imagined it was my “calling” to write and serve for the betterment of society. My reviews have noted the good work and creative writing I did for “betterment,” which included informing, encouraging and empowering through education. We also presupposed that the better educated I was, the better I would be able to change the world. This was confirmed at my previous job when my supervisor noted, “you’re in the wrong job, you’re a better writer.”

Writing and serving wouldn’t be difficult if my audience was only people like myself – analytical gadflies, members of the helping professions, experts - people determined to make the world a better place. Yet we’ve also assumed the society to be addressed and bettered through our program includes the working poor, teen mothers, incarcerated fathers, drug dealers, gang bangers, crack-whores, wanna-be’s, wetbacks and welfare moms.