Tuesday, June 5, 2018

that disease called motorcycling




















I met Sam at a Cycle World motorcycle show years ago.  He was standing by himself, studying the new Honda chopper style bike.  It was when the Metric guys were trying to catch on and each one had a Harley style cruiser, Honda going the next step, as only Honda used to be able to do.  He was wearing his Hessian colors, and nodded at me when I stopped to look.  “You know, if you had one of those you could be a real biker too,” I replied, and he laughed.  He had seen more miles than most groups of new Harley riders, his limp when walking away a dead give away, but as we talked about motorcycles and how they had changed, we both came to the same conclusion, we had the same disease, and it was called motorcycles.  He loved his Harley, was interested in Triumph as he had ridden them before, but never caught onto the “you meet the nicest people on a Honda,” line, but still had friends who rode them.  We both kept studying the Honda while we talked, and when he had seen enough, shook my hand, said it was good talking with me, wished me a good day and to ride safe.  As I watched him limp away, I knew we both suffered from the same disease, terminal but not life threatening, and even though motorcycles had changed, and are still changing, motorcycling had changed us too.  In ways we never imagined...
My friend Glen was a newcomer to motorcycles, the poster boy for the new lifestyle riders.  He thought there were only two brands of motorcycles, Harley and Davidson, and made fun of my sport bikes, as if we didn’t have the talent to drive an old tractor.  One day in the garage, he asked if he could ride my Sprint RS, wanted to see if it was as powerful as his Harley.  So we went up the freeway, me chasing him on his Harley, when we saw a bike stopped on the shoulder.  Pulling up, the guy wearing Vago colors waved Glen on, but when I pulled up, he talked with me, told me he was waiting for a truck to come fetch him, and thanked me for stopping.  If only he knew how I made fun of Harleys, and the guy he waved on was riding my bike and I was riding his.  I think Sam would have laughed at that one. 
Stopping by the local Harley store that now sells Indians, I noticed Spud was gone.  Funny how every time I pulled up on a Triumph, all the old guys would come over and tell of the one they used to have, and Spud was one of them.  Really one of us, as even if I had a Daytona, or Speed Triple, he was interested.  He would ask questions, as he had read about them, and would tell me if younger, would like to ride one.  But he was always glad to see me and talk motorcycles, again that common disease called motorcycling.  The new GM there told me any bike I want to test ride just let him know.  He knows my Triumphs and likes the new Bonnevilles.  Even though he sells Harleys and Indians. But took me back in the shop, past the no customers allowed sign to show me his Yamaha FZ09, and a BMW 1600 tourer he just bought.   Telling me intimate details about riding both of them.  He rides...and sells.  A terminal case if I ever saw one....
After being told by a major motorcycle ministry I wasn’t wanted any more, I had chosen God over their rules and regulations, almost cultic, I found I could do more ministering when not advertising myself as a Christian and acting like one.   Just like the guy who wears his Jesus shirt and cannot figure out why he always sits alone on the bus, I have this terminal case of Christianity based on Jesus Christ.  But I choose not to advertise, but to live my ride with him.  The root word for religion means binding, and whether worshipping God or motorcycles, if you live by the rules imposed, you lose you freedom.  Jesus understood this, the Pharisees never did, and although they bragged on themselves, I wonder how lonely they really were.  How unhappy, insecure, and miserable they were, having to constantly obey all the laws, for if they broke one they had broken them all, and who knew who was watching and was there to remind them.  So I feel sorry for them, but keep in mind it was their choice.  No one forced them, and in the law they were terminally ill spiritually.  No wonder they hated Jesus, he represented freedom, something not in their vocabulary,  They were so close to him, yet so far away. 
Which is why I tend to avoid many Christians, who want to save me.  My long hair and beard, my motorcycle and lifestyle may not portray their religion, but my freedom in Christ portrays who he is.  I can go and ride anywhere and any brand I want.  I can sit with Pentecostals, Catholics, Jews, and even fundamental Christians, and be free.  But within the context of their religion, my freedom scares them.  For what if they were truly free in Christ, and had to make a decision based on Jesus as opposed to denominational boundaries?  What if they became unpopular, a lot of what ifs.  But true freedom is found in the spirit, and in the spirit, these prideful worries don’t exist.  I have placed my confidence is Christ Jesus, and found his crowd of one to be superior.  Jesus never followed the crowd, if you notice the crowd followed him.  Jesus was never brand specific, all sinners were welcome.  No matter the offense.
Today may be the day you break free from religion and find victory in Jesus.  Where you find the truth truly sets you free, and you can have a  more abundant life in him.  Where you are, whoever you are, he offers his forgiveness from sin, and welcomes you as family.  Calls you friend, and loves you as you are, but doesn’t want to leave you that way.  Abundant life is one prayer away....
Or you could be like the loud pipes save lives biker who pulled up next to me.  I was less than a mile from the shop on a Rocket 3, with a Carpenter head, dynoing at 220 hp, and 189 lb. ft of torque.  He revved his engine wanting to show his superiority, so I did answered back.  With the sound of a NASCAR motor coming from the Rocket.  He just stared ahead, avoiding any eye contact, and putt putted away when the light turned green.  You see if you cannot be fast, you can always be loud.  But you cannot always be free.  I’m sure his version is different....so choose freedom today.  From motorcycles to food to where and how you worship him, Jesus lets you decide.  You make the choice, does your church or denomination offer you that?  Does your dealer?  Just think, if you had Jesus Christ in your life, you could be a real Christian too......
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com