Posts Tagged ‘Carlos’

by Carlos Rios

“When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.’” Luke 23:33-34

As we continue through our Lenten journey, we have finally entered the “home stretch” of Holy Week. Our destination is no longer as far away as we remembered and we are filled with hope of the new life that awaits us in Easter. As I’m writing this, it is Monday of Holy Week and the joy of Palm Sunday—the hosannas, the palm fronds, the music, the excitement—is still fresh in my heart. But the story doesn’t end there, of course. Jesus rode into town and received a hero’s welcome, only to face ridicule and death on Good Friday.

As the week progressed, Jesus faced a betrayal, a sham trial, and execution amongst thieves. What a shocking turn of events over the course of a week! Yet in the midst of all of this, while Jesus was hanging on the cross, he utters the phrase above to forgive those who were ridiculing, condemning, and murdering him. I can only imagine the pain and difficulty that came along with that “breath prayer” that Jesus made on the cross: not just physical pain, but the emotional pain of betrayal, mockery, rejection, and abandonment. Yet in the midst of all of this, Christ forgives and asks God to forgive the crowds.

Forgiveness is a difficult process because it always involves someone being wronged. In forgiving you have to identify hurt, deal with hurt, release the hurt, and restore your relationship with the person that has caused you to hurt. Often we think it’s easier to just remain hurt or angry, but this allows bitterness to take root within our souls and chokes our hearts. It constricts our capacity to love.

It is through prayer that our hearts and minds become open to God’s restorative work within us. Jesus asked God to forgive the crowds in the midst of unspeakable hurt. Although our highs and lows are admittedly not as severe, in following Christ’s example we should also forgive one another.

This week I did a lot of praying and practiced a lot of forgiveness. For those who didn’t know, my car was stolen last Monday. Over the course of the week I prayed that my car would turn up in at least decent condition. I prayed for the people who stole my car, too. I simply couldn’t fathom how someone could be so bold as to even do something like that.

I prayed that God would forgive whoever was responsible for the theft of my vehicle. I asked that God would help ME to forgive and to not allow the situation to impact my ability to trust and to love. I found myself echoing Jesus’ sentiment that that God would forgive them, for they know not what they do.

Thankfully, Jesus’ story and my story both have happy endings. My car was recovered late Thursday night. On Friday I was able to retrieve my car and have new keys made and was blessed every step along the way: from our very own Jeff Rossen who gave me a ride from place to place, to the gracious people at the impound lot, to the patient people at the Honda dealer, I had miracles occur all the while. I can only attribute these blessings to God’s grace, the incredible thoughts and prayers of my friends and family, and my intentional prayer practice.

We may have reached the end of this journey, but that certainly doesn’t mean it’s over. When Jesus rose from the tomb it was the beginning of something brand new. I can and will continue to focus on prayer and reflect on what I’ve learned in the wilderness. Let us all go forward together stronger from our journey and ready for the newness that only Christ can bring.

Amen.

by Carlos Rios

“Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, ‘Sit here while I go over there and pray. He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and agitated. Then he said to them, ‘I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me.’ And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed, ‘My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.’” Matthew 26:36-39

In life we all find ourselves going through trials that test our faith and our resolve. Trials stretch us, grow us, take us outside of what is comfortable, challenge us to make decisions, and provide a path to change. Jesus himself was tested both while he was in the wilderness (which is what our Lenten journey symbolizes) and finally by sacrificing himself for us. Jesus, knowing exactly what kind of trial is about to come his way, makes a final, heartfelt plea to God in the form of prayer: “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.” (39)

This prayer that Jesus makes in the Garden of Gethsemane has been analyzed and debated for years. Was it Jesus expressing reluctance? Was he seeking an alternative? Was he resigned to his fate? I wish I had the answers, but I feel that perhaps we may never know definitively what was going on there. Part of me can’t help but find a beautiful sort of frustration in all of that.

Jesus, being both fully human and fully divine, knew what his purpose was on this earth. The part of him that was divine knew the sacrifice he was going to become, but I think that the human in him was probably overwhelmed. I mean, how often are we overwhelmed with even smaller circumstances or sacrifices we are called to make? Jesus’ cup was a bitter one to swallow. I like to think that maybe Christ was wrestling with just how tough this trial was going to be. Yet ultimately Jesus expresses his yielding to God’s will over his own: “…not what I want but what you want.”

Our Lenten journey is one that ultimately takes us to the joy and newness of life that is Easter Sunday. Of course, we wouldn’t be able to get to Easter Sunday without experiencing the pain that is the cross on Good Friday. No more poignant metaphor for life is possible.

When we pray during times of trial we acknowledge how we feel and become spiritually aware of our situation. Prayer allows us to allow God’s will to take precedence over our own agendas. We ask that God would help us and we have faith that God will provide us the strength to make it through. We know that newness of life is around the corner.

Amen.

by Carlos Rios

I’m walking home from another long day at work. It’s dreary out; the sky is a cool shade of gray that offers very little hope. The wind whips against my face and light rain begins to brush on my cheeks. The scene is, at best, desolate. I’m exhausted and anxious about my finances. After a quick check of my bank balance I cringe. What am I going to do? I feel helpless, powerless, and scared. I stop to take a moment and breathe deeply. I begin to pray: “(breathe in) The Lord is my Shepherd, (breathe out) I shall not want.” I repeat this mantra over and over as I walk to the local grocer and purchase an ingredient for tonight’s dinner. I feel it seep into my body. My situation has not changed, but my outlook has. On the way home I receive two e-mails, each one offering hope for a better day.

*****

I run frantically in the direction of the bus stop. I thought I had two minutes left, according to the bus tracker. Apparently two minutes really means about 30 seconds. After a mad dash I am fortunate enough to catch the bus: I exhale. After paying my fare I walk towards the same section of the bus that I always sit at, but find myself stopping just short. An old friend is sitting on the bus with a grin from ear to ear. I sit with him and we catch up, share stories both bad and good, and promise to call each other soon. I pray and thank God that this person was such a blessing in my morning and in my life. I ask that God would bless him. I continue my morning with an unanticipated amount of joy.

*****

A friend and I are seated at a bar, well-earned martinis in hand. He looks tired, stressed, and anxious. I ask him if he’s okay. He responds that work has been practically unbearable these last few days—he hasn’t slept in about two days. My face makes a visual groan (I’ve never been good at hiding the emotion in my face). I ask if everything else is okay with him. He tells me that due to no fault of his own, his visa may not be renewed in time. Without it he will be unable to continue working and worries about how he is going to pay his rent and bills without the ability to work. He worries about facing possible deportation. He is angry about a system that is slow and faulty. I hurt with him. I send up a flash prayer at that moment: “God, make what seems impossible become possible for my friend.” I hope and I continue to pray that his situation is resolved quickly. I pray against and lament over a system that is broken.

*****

I sit and stare at my computer screen with what feels like little to write about. The week has been tough. For the first time in a long time I feel like I am in the wilderness. And then I get it. I am indeed in the wilderness. This is a journey and sometimes the road gets rocky, the conditions aren’t always favorable, and often we are beyond the signal of a cell phone or a GPS. It’s scary, but I know I am not alone. I keep walking, I keep breathing, and I keep praying. I know that I will reach my destination if I keep along this path—I must learn to keep hope and faith alive. I know that if I keep my focus on God, I will make it out of the woods. Until then, I will look at portraits from my journey to ground me, inspire me, humble me, and keep me moving.

Amen.

by Carlos Rios

Change.

It’s a word that is often bandied about in various contexts. Change was the overall theme of the 2008 Presidential Election, no matter which side of the political aisle you sat on. The Great Recession of 2009 ushered in changes many of us had never experienced in our lifetimes. And as we begin the new year we all hope that we experience positive change in ourselves and in our country. Politicians talk about change, businesspeople talk about change, pundits talk about change, therapists talk about change, even Pastor Kate’s powerful sermon last weekend talked about change. But how do we change? Can we change ourselves? Can we change others?

A moment of transparency with you all, my family in Christ: I struggle with an addiction. But unlike an alcoholic or a drug addict my addiction is to something free, readily available, and completely legal—I am addicted to people. Not in the sense of loneliness, but in the co-dependent meaning of the word that strives for validation, recognition, and control. I didn’t realize I was a co-dependent until I ended up in an Overcoming Obstacles therapy group at my Southern Baptist college (proof that the Lord still works in mysterious ways). In extremely simple and short terms, all of my interpersonal relationships were colored with an unhealthy craving for acceptance because I had rejected myself and felt rejected by others. It wasn’t until I had made these realizations about myself that I was able to change my ways of thinking and my behaviors.

In fact, while in that class I was able to learn a lot about the nature of change. Change requires a lot of effort. In order to change we have to take an inventory of where we are at and see what we can improve to make things better. Most change requires the breaking of old habits. Many changes lead us into new, unfamiliar, uncomfortable places. It’s a sad truth that we often resist change because it is “easier” than what we are doing now. My change in the way I relate to people is one that I need to regularly review and reinforce. One of the best things I learned while in class was called the “Bombshell Theory:”

“I cannot change others by direct action.
I can only change myself, by God’s grace.
Others will have a tendency to change
in reaction to my change.”

Astute readers will have noticed one thing about this post so far—how does my Lenten focus on prayer relate to change? The answer, of course, is everything. For you see, to pray is to change. Prayer changes our vantage point from seeing things through our understanding and by putting on the mind of Christ. Once you begin seeing things the way that God sees them, there’s no way you can look at what is going on in your life or in your world the same way. I have found that as I’ve focused more on prayer that even the way that I pray has changed. Too often I have found myself using God as a Divine Vending Machine where you would receive a reward after the correct set of inputs. Prayer now is about thinking God’s thoughts.

Prayer allows us to open ourselves to God and to allow God to change us and fix what is broken. It is not easy. It is not always fast. It is not always pretty. It is, however, always beautiful. It is important to remember that this process is personal—it begins within ourselves. Changing others through direct action, as Bombshell Theory states, is impossible. It’s not our job to be in control of others, but to pray that God would help us all see what needs changing in our lives. And when we are all praying, all seeing each other through the eyes of God, I believe a change is going to come. Are you ready for it?

Amen.

by Carlos Rios

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

In taking on prayer as a spiritual discipline this Lent, I’ve really begun to delve deep into what it means to pray, and what we are told about prayer through the Bible. Thankfully, the Scriptures are chock full of examples of prayers, commands about prayer, and uses of prayer.

The apostle Paul (whom I have a tenuous relationship with) urges the church at Thessalonica, and us, to “pray without ceasing.” But is that really possible? I’m going to go out on a limb and say that, for me, it is nothing short of an impossibility. I mean, I have a life I need to lead—I couldn’t possibly spend all day in constant prayer. So how does one accomplish this task of praying without ceasing?

This questioning led me to a prayer practice that we discussed in my small group: “flash” prayer. To practice flash prayer, just simply go about your day and pray for the people that you encounter along the way. Your eyes don’t have to be closed; you don’t have to say anything out loud—just remain in an attitude of prayer and pray for the situations and individuals that you come across. After learning more about flash prayer, I thought I would give it a try this week.

The interesting thing about prayer is that it is truly transformative. People and situations that I routinely encounter in my life take on new meanings. In praying for the homeless man who asks me for change on the way to the train, I ask that God would not only meet his physical needs but his spiritual ones. In passing the methadone clinic I ask that God would deliver those people from the chains of addiction. I bless and pray for the safety of the schoolchildren who play outside the Boys and Girls club on my street. I pray for my friends, ask God to bless them, and thank God for the blessings they are in my life. When I can’t find the words to pray, I know that the Holy Spirit prays on my behalf with “sighs too deep for words.” (Romans 8:26)

I find that in response to this focus on prayer, I have started to change as well. As I continue to learn to pray I find that my perspective on people and situations changes. Short-term rewards are tempered with long-term vision: the eternal is emphasized over the ephemeral. I am more open to opportunities to pray for people, to bless people, and to be blessed. I wonder what it would be like if we all walked around praying for each other. Could we change the world by performing prayer on the run? I believe that we can.

Amen.

by Carlos Rios

“[T]hen [God] said ‘Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.’” (Exodus 3:5)

What is sacred? According to Merriam-Webster, sacred is an adjective which can mean (among other things): (1) dedicated or set apart for the service or worship of a deity; (2) worthy of religious veneration, holy; (3) of or relating to religion. As you can see, key themes such as religion, holiness, worship, and deity all repeat themselves.

What is a space? It’s easy to think of space as a three-dimensional area in a room, but think about terms like public space, private space, personal space, social space, and finally, sacred space, to understand how the word “space” can really be loaded with meaning in our lives. All it takes is one little change, one slightly different way of looking at the word, to make all the difference.

A sacred space is a location where we can commune with the Divine. Moses encountered a sacred space in an unlikely place: a burning bush that was aflame yet not consumed by the fire. It is this passage in Exodus above that opened and inspired this entry. It was in this sacred space where Moses first encountered God and received his calling. Interestingly enough, Moses’ time with God focused more on listening (and, much to my delight, doubting) than speaking.

During our small group meeting last week, we discussed the idea of creating an altar in our homes for a sacred space, followed by a guided meditation. During the meditation, we were asked to consider the spaces that we live in and see if there was anywhere that we could place a sacred space. As I mentally rifled through my home I finally came upon a place where I too could commune with the Divine.

In my tiny glorified studio of an apartment, my sacred space is across from my bed, in an area that has been pretty under-furnished for the last six months. Coming soon is a little table with some items that help me feel closer to God: candles, a picture of my mother, certain notes of encouragement, etc. Although my spiritual practice is inward, this outward demonstration of it may require an uncomfortable conversation or two to explain to others. It is in this mixture of dedicated private, public, and sacred space that I am able to not just talk to God, but listen for the voice of God.

One thing I have learned, however, in creating this sacred space is that it isn’t just a physical location. Sacred space is indeed a condition of the heart. Creating a space in my being is part of the equation as well. With a sacred space that I can carry around wherever I go, I can have “sacred space” in some of the most unlikely places: stuck in traffic on the Kennedy, sitting on the bus or the train, running down the lakefront path, or whittling away on the keyboard at my desk. No place feels too off-limits to have conversations with God.

Amen.

by Carlos Rios

Since I started coming back to church about 3 years ago, I have always given something up for Lent. Last year, I gave up meat, and the year before that alcohol (a mistake I will never again make!). For Lent this year I have chosen to take something on, instead of giving something up, and focus on the spiritual discipline of prayer.

Growing up I was always taught about the “power of prayer.” Having been raised in the Southern Baptist tradition, I was accustomed to people emotionally praying out loud, hearing prayers that sounded more like sermons than prayers, and of course, gossip in the form of a prayer request. These experiences didn’t do a great job of communicating the importance of prayer in my spiritual life.

Even now, as I have begun reclaiming my faith for myself, I find that I don’t really pray as much as I should. Sure, I pray (like many people do) before something stressful like a test, or during church, or when I can’t find my keys, but prayer is something I have rarely been intentional about. This is how I knew it is what I needed to focus on this Lent.

In reading through Richard Foster’s book A Celebration of Discipline, I came across a chapter on prayer. The giants of our faith—Luther, Wesley, Kierkegaard, et al.—all placed heavy emphasis on prayer. Prayer wasn’t something they did to prepare to do God’s work: prayer was God’s work. I am truly moved and inspired by those men and women who have laid the foundation of our faith, and I hope to capture even a fraction of that.

Of course, selecting a discipline and actually carrying it out are two independent processes, and that’s why I am so very blessed to be blogging about it. I know that this will keep me accountable for what I have promised to do. Like any new practice or habit, I know that some days it will be tough. I also can’t expect to feel like I have “mastered” praying right away. Instead, I want to take an attitude of humility and ask God to teach me what it really means to pray, how to pray, and what or whom to pray for.

I am grateful that together, we’ll take this journey through Lent. The path may be rocky, the weather may not always cooperate, and sometimes we might feel like we’re walking around in circles, but I know that we will get to where we need to be. And all the while we get to pray for each other.

Amen.