worth the price of no admission

In our area car shows are on the decline.  It seems to me that why should a collector pay to show off his pride and joy, no matter how the proceeds benefit someone, when they could just as easily write the check?  So cruise nights and drive in for coffee or whatever are abounding everywhere.  Where the owners and followers of their particular brand can meet and bench race for the price of a latte.  Hmmm...maybe it might be cheaper to pay the entry fee.  But while up at Monterey Car Week a few years back, I found myself within earshot and eye sight of many incredible cars, only to be far enough away to not see them properly.  I guess if I had a highly prized collectible, I’d keep me away too, but I found a new source of cars on display, with no entry fee, and where I could browse and look as much as I wanted.  Parked along the streets of Carmel, and in the parking lots, were so many collector and cool cars parked, why pay the fee to see trailer queens?  I saw cool cars being used as designed, being driven, some not perfect, some needing a bath, but driven, just like the cars we park in our garages or in the driveways.  Seen in real life just as we know them, not behind a barrier where only the elite can enjoy them.  So I now I cruise the parking lots, walk the streets beyond the shows, and see many interesting cars not invited, or not up to a standard to be displayed.  A free car show, where they can be seen in the harsh environment they and us are forced to live and drive in.  And many times, see more of life, and many memories resurrected when viewing them.

You don’t need to be high end like at Monterey either.  Or even at a car gathering event.  I have seen Ferrari’s driven by housewives in shopping center lots, trying to fit her purchases into the front seat.  Porsches with parking lot permits on the windows, or high school clubs.  How many Mercedes Benz did we have to clean out after service, or remove all the coffee cups or burger wrappers when doing interior work?  Range Rovers filled with hockey gear, and sports equipment, needing some tlc, not neglected, just used as designed.  Sometimes being able to see the cars in their real life environment makes them more real, and attainable.  Never been a fan of trailer queens, bikes are for riding, cars for driving.  Collectors withstanding.  There is a show out there worth the price of no admission.....

Years ago while working at a Mercedes Benz dealer in La Jolla, I parked my Bonneville on the street.  I was amazed at how many would just drop in and look me up, just to share a memory of the one they had.  From doctors to their wives, even with grandkids in tow, they all had a story to share, maybe that is why my street shows are so appealing, they take me back, and I marvel at the things remembered.  If only I had a dollar for all the times I heard, “it never ran right, leaked oil, couldn’t be driven at night, and would leave me stranded.  But I loved that bike, I wish I had never sold it.”  Sometimes the price of admission is paid in more than a wallet can hold.

Fame and fortune have a price many times too much to pay.  I had a friend who was a millionaire, and when we went out to eat lunch, he was always being hit on with great investments for him.  Everyone knew my Dad in Scotch Plains, and it was rare if we went out and someone didn’t come over and talk to him.  Flattering, but sometimes we just want to eat our burgers alone.  In peace.  I once ministered with a man who was always upset with me because I wasn’t a regular church goer, at least not enough in his eyes.  I write five times a week, teach and pastor on Tuesday, and whatever else comes long during the week.  I spent more time with just me and Jesus then he did, his life was all about the church and Jesus.  Mine Jesus, safe and content knowing we are the church.  So many times we feel we must get on a prayer chain, a group feed, or attend a Bible study and express our needs so they can be prayed for.  Neglecting Jesus, forgetting he is right with us.  Setting the example himself, that when tired, and overwhelmed by the needs of others, didn’t go into the sanctuary, but got away one on one with his Father.  Some seek a momentary respite from the pain of life, Jesus went to his father and dealt with the source of the problem.  I am not saying do not go to church, but that Jesus is always available, and the one on one times are the best.  No TV, no i-interrruptions, no one to gossip to or with, no faux face to put on.  Just you and Jesus.  Private and personal.  Yet we approach God many times as if he were that collector car and is off limits, perfect and unblemished, yet in Jesus we see where he bore the bruises, the beatings, and the pain for us.  Some only have a Christian education, what they need is a Christian experience.  They need Jesus, not religion, a specialist not a GP.  Yet so many surround themselves with the barrier tape of religion, never letting Jesus in, going down to the altar, but leaving unaltered.  Not God’s plan for redemption...resurrection, or restoration.

Jesus spent most of his ministry on the road.  Read your Bible, don’t study it, read about Jesus.  His life was on the road, from birth to death.  Where the miracles occurred, where the people were.  A building can only hold so many, and only a few can pay the price of admission.  So Jesus went out to them.  Am I making my point, or rather should I ask, which one?  Jesus is priceless, but he paid the price for us.

So after my Monterey parking lot experience, I left with many memories of the cars not on display, but that really were.  Heading down SR 25 south of Hollister, a great riding road and sports car road, between the sweeping curves, I saw one, then two, then counted seven Bugatti Veyrons, each one worth well over a million dollars and guaranteed to go over 250 mph.  And it hit me, these guys got it. They drove their cars, they experienced their cars, and enjoyed their cars.  As designed.  Maybe a little better off financially than most of us, but with the same attitude.  Ride them don’t hide them.  Making memories instead of listening to others.  Is your life in Christ so fulfilling, are you out living him, or a 90 minute a week commitment to go to church? 

We are the church, we are to be out among the world but not of it.  Jesus spent most of his ministry on the road, driven by the love of others.  What drives you is more important than what you drive.  Our lives are always on display.  What does yours say about Jesus?  Church attendance and that of car shows may be falling, but small groups, one on one with Jesus is growing.  The real church, us.  The real head of it, Jesus.  With no collection plate passed.  Where he is available to all 24/7.  Where we can show his love to others and minister in his name.  Maybe it should come as no surprise why my bikes have so many miles on them, they didn’t get them parked in a lot.  A lesson learned one afternoon in Monterey....Veyrons optional.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the Roach

My career at Coca Cola started as a helper on a fountain delivery truck.  The plan was for me to be taught the job and open another route for me, as the company was growing.  I met all the requirements sooner than they expected, which didn’t leave them any time to finish restoring the truck I would drive.  It was an old delivery van, Chevy in nature, from the sixties, that had carried too many heavy syrup tanks in its day, which left the springs compressed, the engine worn and without power, doors that wouldn’t or couldn’t lock, and 0-60 by the watch in minutes.  Yet it was supposed to help me carry out my duty, which it did, barely.  So old parts were no longer available for it, when the throttle cable broke, they just removed the engine cover in the cab, ran some bailing wire from the throttle linkage to the pedal, and it was good for a week.  Needless to say going up or down the hills in the Rockies made for an exciting ride.  Also the exhaust fumes entering the wide open cabin now made me nauseous.  I also filled Coke machines on the route, and it was the only vehicle not equipped with a lock box, the 15-20 bags of money just hidden in plain view between the seats.  Cornering with a full load of 60 figals, syrup tanks made for scary cornering, but never a crash.  But somehow it all worked, and I didn’t really mind, at least at first, it represented a paycheck, in Durango where jobs were scarce, and paying ones even rarer.  Number 56, and she needed a name, so I called her the Roach, affectionately of course, and soon that was how she known, and as I will always remember her.  The Roach, RIP, somewhere out there a junk yard has a spot set aside just for you.

But being the low man on the totem pole, still not sure what that means, I got the hardest route, the most demanding customers, and the worst truck.  We all need to start somewhere, maybe not the top, but at least a work truck that locks and keeps out the snow and rain.  Where you put the pedal to the metal, not the wire to the fire.  Where bags of money are safe and locked up, not a good thing on the Navajo Reservation.  We have all been the low man when we start, no matter the position, new means less than the others, and we need to earn their respect and our way.  The guys who drove the semis were looked up to, the bottle truck drivers having more respect, and then there was me and the Roach.  I knew someday I would drive a more respectful and bigger rig, I did, and it was hard not being proud when I did.  Seems the view from the top is much different than the view from the bottom.  Or the Roach.

Our natural instincts make us want to look down at others, sometimes to make ourselves look better or blame them when we don’t.  ‘Look at what he did,” the big brother cries out, after being busted.  We all like to be in control, to be better than the next guy, to be able to call the shots and make the decisions.  Put another way, to do as we please.  Jesus sees things differently, fortunately.  And as we grow in the Lord we should too.  He tells us we should not esteem ourselves as being better than others, he himself taking the low position of a servant, and dying on the cross.  I have been in trouble too many times for parking my motorcycle in the pastor’s spot, one time having it threatened with being towed.  That’s love, isn’t it.  Or I have seen pastors or staff given favorable spots at lunch, being passed through security in hospitals,  and also to me.  Which felt good not having to wait in line, but leaving a stain on me, for I was no better or deserving, maybe less than parents waiting to see their child, or to see the doctor.  How often do we use our position, title, seniority, or place in society to get what we want at the expense of others?  Again, Jesus never hurried, and he was never late. As we look at our watch while in line, or tell the guy ahead of us to hurry, all the SOS is almost gone.  But it is when we place all others ahead of ourselves, and treat them as they are superior even if lower in rank, we elevate ourselves.  We serve, and a servant cannot tell who, what , when, where, or how he will serve.  We are told we are all ministers of the gospel of Jesus Christ, but yet step over the poor Lazarus like the rich man did.  Ministry is not what religion has made it out to be, it is simply seeing a need and filling it.  Just like Jesus told the church in Matthew 25.  Who didn’t get, and bragged on all the things that brought attention to them, but no glory to God.  No love was found in it, either for him or man created in his image.  And so I was stuck with the Roach, maybe the best lesson in humiliation I would ever have, and there have been many.  I rather be humbled than humiliated.

But Jesus does take care of his kids, and Biblical principles are not just for Christians.  Coming back from Canada we saw a sign at Circus Circus in Reno, “$19 ROOMS!”  Sounded  like us, so we joined in  the line, over 200 people and we were out the door, having to lean just to see in the room.  When a woman stood up on the counter and announced “no more $19 rooms,” and the stampede out the door began.  Only lasting a few seconds, with us just standing there.  With only a few people between us and her.  “But we do have suites for $29!” and our corner suite that night even had a hot tub.  Patience is a virtue, and a lesson learned that night, of also how the last shall be first.  So while others complained about not getting a $19 room, we brag on our $29 suite, and a great God who got it for us.

We are also told in scripture that the words from our mouth reflect who we are.  I can hear the silence now.  But if we look at each other as Jesus does, we see greatness in them.  Love and compassion, and many times the only one who will help when the important people ones are too busy for you.  I started a career in the Roach, it was retired after I was, and no one ever saw it again.  I imagine that somewhere out on a Colorado prairie it sits, red paint fading in the sun, and the gentle sound of rusting away not heard.  But in the day of restoration, maybe someone will find her and bring her back to life.  Imagine yourself at a car show, and seeing the Roach restored to its original beauty.  Now imagine that that is how Jesus sees us when we repent.  Maybe it wasn’t the worst way to start when I look back, but certainly not the way I want to end up.  The world may be out of $19 rooms, heaven has plenty of $29 suites just for us.  It is not where you start but where you end up that counts.  Hope to see you there!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

one afternoon on the 405

At an early age I was impressed with a Ken Purdy story, of driving down the highway and passing a Ferrari parked along the side.  He was cruising at 70 mph, and within a minute, the Ferrari appears in his rear view mirror.  In a flash it blows by him, and in a few seconds is gone completely.  His response, “gentlemen, that is speed.”  As much as I have been impressed by fast cars and bikes, I always wanted to be the guy in the Ferrari, just blowing by a sports car, for no other reason than I could.  Speed is a relative thing, brought down to reality by numbers on the speedometer or a cop writing you a ticket, but no matter the speed, no matter who is part of the bench racing, someone is always faster.  And as we get older, some get faster, and the lies bigger.  Like the 150 mph Sportster, or the Chevelle doing 130 and the shifting into fourth gear, we know they aren’t true.  But speed has always captivated us, how many of us were once the kid pumping gas and looking at a 150 mph speedo on a motorcycle and asking “wow, will it go that fast?” and the owner knowing it won’t but not wanting to burst our bubble, smiles and nods “been there myself.”  As we take it all in, and pass the story along as the days go by.  Attaining a certain celebrity status at every retelling, as if we were along for the ride.

George Carlin, comedienne and philosopher, once remarked, “anyone going slower than you is a moron, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac.”  Seems he has broken down the society of drivers into two categories, and we each fall into one.  Or the other.  One afternoon riding down the 405 at 70, a miracle in itself, one lane was noticeably backed up, while the others were moving at 70.  Thinking it may be an accident ahead, or a moron who didn’t know how to drive or shouldn’t be, as I passed on the left I looked to see who it was.  To my surprise it was my father in law, who when he saw me smiled and waved.  I took off not wanting to be embarrassed....maybe finding out more than I needed or wanted to know about the family I married into.  He was a moron to me, I was a maniac to him.  Which raised more questions than it provided answers.  Proving speed is a relative thing in more ways than one.

But one thing I have noticed over the years is that everyone in every condition, no matter the road or its posted speed drives a speed they feel comfortable at.  Each moron in his own little world, just as each maniac is.  Until the two meet....and something happens.  Being a sucker for happy endings, sometimes I am suckered more than a sucker.  In a time when there was no king of Israel, we are told every man did was right in his own eyes.  Sounds like some drivers I know, but it also tells us that as we judge by what we see from the outer man, God looks at the heart and makes judgment. Many times I have passed a big dollar sports car driven by a woman out of control on her cell phone, thinking “what a waste of car,” unable to hear her conversation.  “This maniac just sped by me on his motorcycle, what’s the matter with people like that?”  Only to end up sitting in the same row with her at church.  Both of us convinced we are right and the other wrong....scary to think how God sees our hearts.  We forget there is a consequence when we make up our own gospel as we go along, maybe we are all morons and don’t want to admit it.  Or don’t until reminded by someone else.  But God reminds us there is a penalty for sin, or for going your own way and straying from the truth.  But because he loves us he sent Jesus to be the way back, so we can have a relationship with him, and enter heaven, rather than being cast into hell. 

Throughout scripture we see the law of retribution revealed, there is a penalty for each wrongdoing.  We live in a universe guided by God’s rules, not ours, and even the atheist who denies God’s existence will come before him someday.  Life is based on Jesus Christ, the way, and the life, the truth on our rules.  You may never see an electric current, but touch it wrong and you know of its existence.  God has given us physical laws to live by, deny them and it could be death.  Deny his spiritual laws and it means death.  No do overs like in kickball, either you are in or out.  No instant replay.....you enter eternity either a moron or a maniac.  Maybe better described by the Greek as idiotes, those who believed whatever came along, and perfectly describing religion today.  What ever makes the crowd happy and comfortable, don’t want to upset them about sin and its consequences, mention Jesus and suddenly we are talking religion.  Forgetting Jesus came to rescue us from religion and its bondage.  Yet many are too slow and passed by regarded as morons, or fly by too quickly regarded as maniacs.  Only when using Jesus as the common denominator do we see our sin and that we all fall short.  Even on the 405....

The problem with speed, power, money, or looks is that there is always someone faster and quicker, more powerful, richer, or better looking.  Only Jesus breaks it down to love, and that because he loved us first, we can love him now.  When we go beyond moron and stop just short of maniac, we can see Jesus as he really is.  How he is implanted in every area of our lives, but doesn’t interfere, but waits for an invitation to come in.  Napoleon when asked who would win the war, replied “God is on the side of the one who has the heaviest artillery.”  But later in defeat, despite the heavier artillery, claimed “ man proposes, God disposes.”  So God has instilled in us the basic for knowing him, our sin, but also the way to know him personally.  Jesus.  The elemental beginning of life begins when we learn to fear and respect God.  When we find out who really is in control, and it ain’t us.  Turn to him today, or as I lane split in stop and go traffic, I pass the Ferrari stuck next to the Hyundai or the SUV, all idling at zero miles per hour.  The great equalizer.  Moron or maniac, you decide.  Maybe the blind man given his sight by Jesus said it best, “I don’t know if he is good or bad, all I know is that I was blind and now I see.”  Gentlemen, that is power.  That is Jesus.  That is love.  Proved again and again like one afternoon on the 405.  Hang on for the ride of your life!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

sometimes you do meet the nicest people on a Harley

While our riding partner Bruce went off in search of museums, Christopher and I decided to get our fix at the motorcycle shops in Vancouver, BC.  It was at the Yamaha shop we found out about Trev Deeley, the long time Harley Davidson importer, who just happened to have once imported Triumph and Yamahas to Canada.  They told us of a museum he has with bikes over 85 years old, Harley was still a young 86 at the time.  So off in the rain, how British, we went in search of his building, in a non-descript, older part of the warehouse area.  Funny how the combination of a foreign land, they do speak English there, and an unknown area when mixed with rain causes confusion, but after few passes, we took a chance, and it was right where we were told, now so were we.  An old brick two story warehouse, taller than it was wide, we went in and were greeted by the receptionist, who offered us hot drinks, which we accepted.  She asked if we minded waiting, seems Cycle World was doing an article on the museum upstairs, and would we mind waiting in the office of the president.  He didn’t seem to mind, and after 15 minutes of great talk, she motioned CW was gone, actually they were still upstairs, but we could go up.  As she pointed to the narrow stairs, a man in a wheelchair with two friends came in, also wanting to see the museum.  But she told them they had no elevator, and his wheelchair was even wider than the steps.  When a burly warehouseman appeared over her shoulder, “ever ride on a forklift?” His answer a bewildered stare.  “If you don’t mind, we have access through an upstairs outer door we use to unload motorcycles, it will hold a wheelchair with you, interested?”  Being brave he was, and we all went out and watched as the forklift operator carefully lifted him two stories, in the rain, and placed him in the door.  It looked like it was way up there, from the wheelchair it must have looked like a thousand feet!  But he made it safe, the Cycle World guys took pictures and added him to the story, and an incredible morning was had by all.  You see, sometimes you do meet the nicest people on a Harley......

Rock music tells us we have a stairway to heaven, but a high way to hell.  Quite a contrast.  But it takes thinking outside our terminally small minds to see God in it all.  Under Jesus, God gives us a New Covenant, one with no dates mentioned in it, everlasting, and it is available to all, Jew and Gentile alike.  Bikers, too.  He tells us he will put his law, which is love, in our minds, and write his word in our hearts, who is Jesus.  Under the Old Covenant it was all about external. and based on our performance.  The new one under Jesus, is all about what he did for us on the cross, and is all about the internal change God provides in and to us.  And by his spirit we will have all the power we need, no longer do we have to go it alone, no longer under Mosaic laws, but Jesus brings it down to one, love God first with all you have, and then love man the same way.  He supplies, we act and benefit.  Only a loving God be so gracious and forgiving.  No longer when Christians meet will we be strangers, but friends we haven’t met yet, but with the commonality of Jesus, his spirit will unite us.  We share Jesus, so we can share the new life in him.  Based on being forgiven, another great equalizer, before we were all united by our sin, now we are united by his forgiveness.  We no longer have to go it alone, but we have Jesus, who sustains us, supplies us, forgives and encourages us, and all we need to do is believe.  The focus is on who he is and what he has done, not who we are and what we have done.  A covenant like no other, because there is no other like Jesus.

But yet some chase the highway to hell, thinking they have to or must go it alone.  A true blow to the ego when told they cannot, but still race on.  But just like Jacob saw a ladder to heaven, life is taken in many small steps, until you meet a simple obstacle like no elevator and are grounded.  Yet like the warehouseman who offered the wheelchair bound man a lift, God offers us that same lift.  Seems he is not bound by highways, steps, or no elevators.  His plan for you includes him, and in him we can do and go places mere mortals cannot.  We all clapped and rejoiced standing in the rain as the man was lifted, imagine the fanfare in heaven when one lifts his hands and heart in forgiveness and comes to Christ.  Loud pipes may save lives, but they couldn’t meet the man’s need that day. So many Harleys, but only one forklift.  Not even a v-twin.  When we ride with Jesus, marvelous things happen, we are part of the family, under the New Covenant, forgiven and saved.  Later in our conversation with Bruce, he wondered, “how do you always find such neat places?”  We know a neat God, who is cool. 

You may be one highway away from hell, or one stairway away from heaven.  That morning all it took was a forklift to answer a prayer.  Miracles occur everyday, in everyway.  You might meet the nicest people on a Honda, that day it was all about Harleys and a forklift.  Just like Jesus, one offered, the other accepted, and his whole world changed by what he could see.  Blind from below, a new vision when lifted up.  With no animals harmed or loud pipes heard....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com