Monday, May 15, 2017

rebels back then and now


















Looking back, I guess those of us who rode to high school were rebels.  The Viet Nam War was still going, it was still 5 years from Saigon becoming Ho Chi Min City, mini skirts were in, so were maxis, Chevy vs. Ford still ruled the sales race, and Honda was in its third year of its CB 750.  Harley was a leisure activity of AMF, and BSA was gone, no mega dealers yet, and if you rode, you still were looked down on.  At least by your parents, but to the girls....a different story.  A few of us rode, maybe 6-7 every day in the spring, we even started parking our bikes in a space just for us, and from Sportster to Yamaha 100, we had the fever.  We were sticking our faces in the wind every chance we got, some would protest the war, some got high, the stylish group went to the Island to drink as the law there was 18, but for the rest of us it was motorcycles.  Some had fast girls and cars, we had faster girls and faster motorcycles....while the Grateful Dead reminded us “of what a long strange trip it has been...” and ours was only beginning. 
But even with almost every bike on the road a Honda, read old Honda ads, they never referred to them as motorcycles, thanks to the Harley image from The Wild One, and so we rode Hondas.  At least to the uninitiated, but within those of us who rode, there was a pecking order.  With the engine size the main criteria, but the electric leg coming in second.  Real men kick started their bikes, on Triumphs it was a love song you hoped ended in making love, as you tickled the carbs, kicked through to release the clutch and find TDC, then jumped down to make it go.  Usually on the first or second try, and to those watching the when the bike rumbled to life, that was manhood.  But on the 1000cc Sporty, that took real men, men so tough they only wore leather, who smoked Chesterfields hidden in their short sleeve t-shirts, and smelled of grease and oil.  A big bike, a size we all dreamt of riding one day, suddenly our 350 cc’s of Honda were kid’s bike, our push button electric leg a sign of childhood, until the light turned green.  And away we went....
While the old bikes vibrated and leaked oil, ours ran smooth, were very quick and quiet.  They couldn’t shake us, the Triumph lost some of us in the curves, the Harley after 80 ate our lunch, but up till then, we ran neck to neck with them.  Leaving behind the parking lot status of cool, when the light changed, so did the attitude.  When the contest for cool changed, when the criteria was speed rather than being seen, when the audience at 80 was much different than the one parked, a new rebel was born.  A division in our ranks, cruising vs. racing, and the two would  never meet again.  One group of rebels becoming two, bad boys vs. fast boys, finally defined by the girls who rode with us, or dreamed of it.  You might have met the nicest people on a Honda, one ride changed all that.  Such were the rebels of my high school back then.....
We were “one nation under God,” but the dividing line became what you rode.  Sadly a lesson learned from religion.  Our town was broken down as Catholic, Protestant, or Jewish, with each a different belief system, yet honoring the same God.  Just different means to that, some historical, some hysterical, and some not even worship at all.  We watched as the Catholic kids didn’t eat meat on Fridays, not even served in our cafeteria, the Lutherans and Baptists celebrated Lent, and the Jewish kids skipped out on Christmas.  All met in separate buildings, like our bike dealers did, and as a kid I never understood all the rules that made the difference.  Like those of us who rode, we all liked to ride, we just did it differently.  But when it came to religion, no one escaped unscathed, as each rule made one denomination better than the other, more religious, but less loving.  And even then, we were all about love, even if it was all about sex.  We knew there was more to life and love, but we didn’t find it in church.  Some did, but the rest of us wanted more....
With many of us turning to Jesus, which was real rebellion.  But really following a tone set 2000 years ago, when Jesus challenged the religious systems of the day.  The old time religion that was good enough for previous generations didn’t make it now.  We sought truth, the truth, and the spirit pointed us to Jesus, who reunited us with his father in heaven.  Some of the people he reunited were not the nicest people you met on Hondas, Harley types, scooter types came too.  Hippies, red necks, and even nerdy kids were being called, and becoming rebels.  Suddenly groups that would never have anything to do with each other were meeting, sharing Jesus, loving each other.  To our own amazement, and the amazement of others.  This Jesus was real, freed us from religion, united us in the spirit.  Ramblers and Sportsters were found parked next to each other, previous loose girls were finding respect, we got high on Jesus instead, and our worlds, the world was changing.  The same spirit that changed Nicodemus, that brought the 12 disciples together was uniting us.  We had been so busy being rebellious we never considered rebelling against sin.  Or turning to God.  Jesus changed all that, 2000 years ago, 45 years ago, and is still changing hearts and lives today.  Rebels then, rebels now. 
Think you are a rebel because you ride a black V-twin?  Wear leather and denim?  Sorry.  Talk tough and think Christians are weak.  Sorry.  Brag on conquests yet left unsatisfied.  Sorry.  It is only when you come to Christ you are really a rebel, you go against sin in all forms, from religion to society.  When you learn to love as Jesus loves you, then do you truly become a rebel.  Some still hide in pews and pulpits, some still attend church thinking that will purify them, but inside still are not at peace.  Take a break from religion, follow the original rebel, and find love without bounds, peace without description, joy beyond feelings.  Rebel from religion and cling to Jesus, and get ready to get a bad rap.  A small group of us who rode in high school were considered rebels and misunderstood.  Long before the motorcycle crowd espoused “let those who ride decide,” Jesus was sending the same message.  It is your decision, how much of a rebel are you?  Rebellious enough to turn to Jesus?  Tough enough to become a Christian?  Bright enough to see the light?  Or still seeking while others have found?  The spirit is willing, the flesh is weak.  
Real rebels, saved rebels make it to heaven.  Jesus separates the good from the bad. Once defined by what we rode, we now are defined by who we serve.  Jesus Christ was a rebel to the end, to his death on the cross, something no religious person would do for anyone.  Jesus died so we could live, religion lives on only because there are rebels yet called but not changed.  Jesus lets you choose, religion tells you what to do.  Now what kind of an honorable rebel would be told what to do? Rebels then, rebels now, and forever...
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com