when pickups used to be trucks

 My earliest recollection of vehicles wasn’t cars but trucks.  I can remember blue and white 1959 Ford F100’s used by the local mason, and grey and white ones used by the carpenters, thinking this was how to identify them.  And my first audible of the Ford Y-block, later brought to life in my 1949 F-3, with its trans planted T-Bird motor.  And its clever venting of oil directly under it.  Big Dodges carrying oil to customers, Mr. Howarth’s Dodge, then Chevy dump trucks plowing the streets.  Trucks meant men and we all wanted to grow up to be a man.  How many highways and subdivisions were built by us using Tonka trucks, we used to flood our gutter and build dams hauling dirt and rock in them.  Just like the big guys did.  When it came time to dig sewers, the back hoes were hauled by one ton flat beds, followed by more dump trucks.  Trucks that hauled dirt, gravel, asphalt,and then plowed the snow.  My world was all about trucks...and still is today.

Remember the first time you saw Duel, where the Peterbilt tank truck chased the Plymouth across the desert?  I actually saw the truck at a truck show years ago, better than Disneyland.  And no lines.  A guy I knew had a B Model Mack dump truck, what trucks should look like, with a five and a four shifter.  What a joy as I watched him going through the gears, all 20 of them.  Watching logging trucks going faster than sanity allowed, and passing us on curves-on our motorcycles.  The open canopy truck with the butchers bell telling us he was in the neighborhood.  Good Humor trucks, not cars.  Route 22 filled with semis on their way to New York City, creeping down Jugtown Mountain, we didn’t understand why they went so slow....I remember taking my commercial drivers license test after delivering to Mesa Verde.  In the snow, the instructor telling me if I could do that, that was test enough, and passed me.  And today, the trucks all bikers must have when their rides need to go to the hospital, aka shop.  We all have one now, and Ford bragging on how 75% of its sales are trucks, is fazing out all cars except the Mustang.  At one time it was cool to drive a truck, now any soccer mom under the influence of cell phones and kids can drive one.  Maybe a signal of just how far society has really fallen...

But as cool as trucks used to be, there was also a certain stigma attached to the owners.  Farmers, construction workers, and other blue collar types drove them, they were work trucks, a step down to the flashy car crowd.  No one ever wanted to go the prom in a pickup truck, but offer a limo...and the deal was sealed.  Trucks were rough riding, they worked, sometimes until almost dead, than thrown away and resurrected again by its next user.  Our first truck, a 1949 Ford F-3, a one ton, was used to carry firewood in Colorado.  Big 21 leaf springs on each side.  Then a work truck, now a collectible, as cars have gotten out of reach of the working class, motorcycles still too strange for some to collect, so trucks it is.  With 1948-1955 Chevy trucks going for over $50,000.  Resurrected so the original owner would never know them, too pretty to work, too rough to drive.  So they sit in heated garages, with girly men telling about how tough they and their trucks are.  Just don’t lean against one or you might scratch it...we have come a long way for when pickups used to be trucks, and all us kids played with them, in our dreams wanting to drive one someday.  While some dreamt of being president, some of us dreamt of building roads and highways.  Houses and cities.  Real men in real trucks...with the kidneys to prove it.

We are told in scripture that unless God builds the church we labor in vain.  Ever heard that one when they are begging for money for their building project?  Yet so much time, so many meetings, and so much energy is spent deciding how to grow the church.  I know, I have sat through the meetings, and while some plan, they expect others to do their dirty work.  To get out and do the real work, while they sit back, and watch.  And if the plan fails, it is never their fault.  It has been said “Man plans and God laughs,” you all have your own examples.  But I have found that when God plans, we get to laugh, with joy.  His idea of building a church is different, requires no funding, and has no walls, denominational or other.  Raised in a generation where evangelism is inviting someone to church, we don’t want to mix with the lesser ones, an invite to church will make some faint, and even asking makes them think they are evangelists.  But I have this strange philosophy, based on the word of God, if we just do what the spirit asks of us, that is all we need to do.  And the church will grow, and instead of meetings, planning boards, mortgages, and complaining, we get to see God in action, and be part of it.  But like too many today that think manhood is found in an F150, just looking the part, not being the part is what counts.  What your friends at church think of you more important than your standing with God.  Talking about God, never mentioning Jesus.  Don’t want to upset anyone with the gospel.....

Years ago I was active in a national motorcycle ministry, until I read their bylaws.  Which said I had to tithe to them.  Wrong, that’s not giving.  But what opened my eyes was they advised to not have communion, lest you offend someone.  So much for the do this in remembrance of me crowd, and I chose God over them.  You see when man plans God does laugh, but he cries also.  When Jesus wept it wasn’t because Lazarus had died, it was much deeper than that, they had missed the gospel message of resurrection.  Without resurrection you may as well be a cultist.  Only Jesus backed up his words by raising from the dead!  So be careful of how you evangelize, or the club you join.  There was a time when trucks and cars were different and we could tell the difference, today many Christian reactions are no different than those of an atheist.  Is your Jesus sticker the only way we know you are a Christian?  There was a time when we could tell without being told.

So I keep my religion as simple as my truck, six cylinder, rubber floor mats, and roll up windows.  OK, and auto with air.  But I keep my religion simple and all about Jesus.  No substitutes, no pastor or teachers to follow, living by the spirit and living life to the fullest.  Led by the spirit.  Living a life in remembrance of him, and doing it openly.  Using words when needed, for the actions of Christ are remembered long after your memorization of verses fails.  It is not how much you know, but who you know.  Can you say you know Jesus as Lord? 

Maybe it is ironic that the closer the Bible gets to the last book, Revelation, the more it warns of false or fake teachers.  Lazy and safe Christians, an attitude of the Pharisees, and how many will fall away.  Having tasted but never dined on the spirit.  With one suggestion about trucks.  I still love cars and motorcycles, but when broken down, who do I call?  Who answers and hauls me to the dealer?  Jesus and trucks, they should never change, but we should.  In remembrance of him.  What do you remember?  And we should have seen it coming....

love with compassion,

Mike

mattehw25biker.blogspot.com