Friday, March 3, 2017

service for eight















Many years ago, when the USGP returned to the US of A, where it belongs, four of us decided to ride up and see it.  Two groups of friends, where I was the common denominator, and four different bikes with four different riding styles.  From my FJ1100, a Ninja 750, an Interceptor, and an old, first year 1975 Gold Wing, we had a fun ride.  I was able to take them over back roads, we each rode our own ride, at least all that male egos will allow, and no one got lost, hurt, had their feelings hurt, or ran out of gas or road.  We had a fun ride, with the talk all the way from Joe on his Gold Wing about the best Chinese food he ever ate in Monterrey, and that was all he would talk about.  And soon we were thinking Chinese food, to be specific Chinese seafood, and we let him do the ordering.  Joe knew the place and the menu, and as we sipped our soup, and ate our egg rolls, we were anxiously anticipating the main course, which he ordered by its menu name, not translated into English.  We all got what he ordered, but not what we thought we were getting....
He had ordered an octopus, all of it, and just the sight of it made two of us detour for more egg rolls.  But his excitement had us at least try it, and I can tell you, the tentacles are tough, and I never want to get close to eating an octopus again.  Ever.  And all of us but Joe agreed, and his feelings were hurt that we didn’t like it as much as he did.  He thought that because he loved it we all should, I should have seen it coming when his love for Hondas, cars and bikes, referred to all others as others.  We look back now and laugh, but his feelings were hurt, he meant well, wanted us to enjoy it as much as he did, but left out our freedom of choice in our taste for Chinese food, and anything with more arms than our bikes had cylinders.  If I remember correctly, two of us headed for a Big Mac remedy, but just thinking of the tentacles makes me lose my appetite.  Tough, chewy, no flavor, and one down, seven to go, by the way, the race was great....
So dinner in Monterrey was memorable, what a nice word.  And at the race at Laguna Seca, we watched them race at the Corkscrew, where you enter a turn, then turn again, at high speeds, off camber, going downhill, where you cannot see the next turn until you are in it.  A famous turn, with the legend that it was created by a bulldozer operator when building the track in 1958.  It was lunch time, the others were heading down to the lunch wagon, and he was told “get there the shortest way,” so he created the Corkscrew, I only hope his lunch was as memorable.  Two meals with memorable outcomes, somehow when I think of one I remember the other, or is it the other way around?
Many times we get caught up in the excitement of an anticipated event.  I have friends who spend so much time in church they think anyone who doesn’t isn’t save.  And ones who if you don’t worship this way may have a questionable salvation.  Or if you aren’t a missionary, you don’t love, or if you don’t give to missions you are selfish.  They base their theology on themselves, what they like, how they were saved, and how and what their church believes.  No room for outsiders, their way or the highway.  But what if your way is the highway?  And so often I have to feign interest when they tell of a new book they read and how it changed their lives.  How they know more, are better equipped, but still unchanged.  Their knowledge only puffs them up more, and we can see them coming.  They think dressed in a Christian t-shirt and inviting someone to church is evangelism, and their theology has a me based core.  Encountering such a man yesterday, with a John 3:16 shirt, I joked, “that will get you a seat alone on the bus won’t it?”  And he didn’t get it.  Until I mentioned when most see that shirt or message coming, they move elsewhere.  Then his defense response was “I don’t wear it for them, I wear it for other Christians.”  “I know...”  and so do others.  For just like our eight legged, or is it armed dinner date, looking back there was one arm for each of ours, we trusted our dinner leader, only to be let down.  Just a thought, but would Jesus wear a shirt that ran off others?  Wouldn’t he get up and offer his seat to you?  Do we try to win people to our way of thinking, or just to win an argument?  Do we care about them, or just a point we are making?  Stop and consider the following,
Years ago at a Bible study a wife asked us to pray for her husband to stop smoking.  I asked him if he wanted to, he said no, and I told her my prayer wasn’t going to change him, or his heart.  When he cared more about his family and his witness, he would stop.  Unless the holy spirit guides you, our words are fruitless.  Unless we communicate better what is for dinner, we get octopus, or the daily special.  And unless we are told the way, we make our own, and end up with a corkscrew.  But Jesus is the way, and to each heart his message is the same, but personalized.  Just like our choice to eat or what we ride, we each become an individual in Christ, and he changes us.  Yet many lose sight of Jesus in their day to day living, so concerned with being in the word, that the word doesn’t reside in them.  They mean well, but are really just an expensive meal, a fancy race course, or a t-shirt advertising how great Jesus is, or really how great they have become.  Think about it....
Don’t be afraid to ask questions of those who are saved.  And if asked, answer in love, and if you don’t know, find out.  In each case, no one asked us what we liked, how to get to lunch, or if we needed to be ministered to.  It was all about the message, with the audience left out.  If only love had been present.  But in all the examples of life we see how much we need Jesus, and how we cannot do it on our own.  Yet we try....
A girlfriend once sent me a postcard, it read “don’t brag about what a great  lover you are, show me.”  A message for the church, and all of us who ride.  Consider others as Jesus did, putting them first.   I may know John 3:16, but what about 1 John 3:16?  Look it up and see what I mean.  Service for eight.  Pass the eggrolls please....
love with compassion, but not for octopus,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com