EXTRA! EXTRA! RIDE ALL ABOUT IT!

A man I have known for years loves motorcycles.  He is a wealth of knowledge about them via all the articles he reads about them.  He can tell you why an R1 handles better than a GSXR 1000.  Why Ninjas seem to run hot, and the best kind of oil for your adventure bike.  He can recite why an Arai fits different than a Shoei, why Dunlops turn in faster than Michelins, and why Harley Davidson sells more bikes than anyone else over 750cc.  He knows by color what year bike is going by, what magazine got the best 1/4 mile times, and best 60-80.  He knows the way to The Dragon, and can even sit in on a bench racing session and listen.  What he cannot do, is comment, because has never participated.  He rides, but to work.  His longest ride is 200 miles of freeway.  He has been over 100, but petrified afterwards, has ridden with guys who go fast, but has never gone fast. He knows of curvy roads and scraping pegs from those of us who do it.  His bulk of his motorcycling experience has come from the pages of Cycle World or Rider, or viewed on the 3x5 screen of an i-pod.  And yet, he considers himself a biker....

When I talk of the mist rising over the valley when on Skyline Drive, he may have read an article about it.  When told about a ride in 30 degree weather following the snow plow, he has seen pictures.  He has never ridden a 1000 mile day except in his imagination, never fell asleep and woke up the next day in another time zone, miles away.  When road food is mentioned, his is all local, BBQ being from So Cal, which in no way can compete with Memphis, KC, or Birmingham.  He knows the shortest distance between two points, but not the best way to get there.  His bike may his name on the title, but his seat time is a far distant second place to what he has read about riding.  He may know more than me about riding, but I ride.  His testimony is from others, mine is from me.  He has yet to discover the freedom, the individuality in riding.  He thinks he has, but it is only an educational exercise.  Safe and secure lest any driver cut him off, the temp drop, or the rain ruin his day.  He reads rather than rides, and although he has leathers and a motorcycle, he still hasn’t got what it takes.  That something is available, but somehow out of bounds for him.  When I reflect on roads, he reflects on articles.  While I accumulate miles, he accumulates knowledge.  You cannot teach experience, at least he has a working knowledge of riding.  Or so he thinks...

When we read about Peter denying the Lord three times in the garden, and find him leaving, writhing in pain and sorrow, he literally fell to the ground in agony, his heart pounding and drenched in tears, we fix our gaze on him.  Think about it, a little teen age girl confronted big, old Peter and sent him running, denying Jesus.  Sadly just like we do.  You see Peter took a defensive position about the little girl, he felt she was endangering him.  But maybe we miss the point here, sure the guards were about to arrest Jesus, it was a scary night.  But assume for the minute, this little girl was scared.  She didn’t know what was going on, but kept hearing the name Jesus.  And how he helped those in need.  And when she approached Peter, she was seeking help, “you were with him, can you help me?”  “You sound like him, do you really know this man from Galilee?”  Maybe the holy spirit had drawn her to Peter, and she wanted to meet Jesus, to be saved.  The conditions and the situation didn’t matter, she wanted to meet Jesus.  So Peter fled, denying him, and turning his back on her.  Just like we do when we fell threatened, when people ask us about Jesus.  We get scared, but miss the opportunity to share the gospel. 

There is an undependability in the flesh, just like there is in only reading about riding but never doing it.  You can be safe and secure behind a magazine, but do you feel the same way behind the handlebars?  How many pastors hide behind a pulpit, safe and secure, telling us how to witness, yet have never been called to do it one on one to a hard core biker?  A hooker?  They may know the scripture, they can quote it, but can they live it?  How many times do the priests in your life confront you, pinning you down by their superior knowledge of the scriptures, only to fail miserably and visibly in practice?  At least Peter ran away and wept, the priests so hard of heart stayed behind.  I wonder if they had any concern for the little girl?  Was their hatred of Jesus so strong they missed the message of the book they quoted?  Peter repented, and his one endearing quality was after all his mistakes, he kept going on.  After repenting.  He didn’t look back, he moved forward.  Without the priests, or the little girl knowing he was experiencing what would be recorded in the New Testament that night. 

Nothing is ever known about the little girl, she is nameless like so many Jesus encountered.  Like the woman who gave two mites, she might have been able to provide shelter for Peter if he wasn’t afraid.  When someone asks you about Jesus how do you react?  Are you a Peter?  Is your testimony just words on a page?  Do you quote scripture or live it?  Do you read about it or ride about it?  At  least Peter had left the security of his own environment, he had followed Jesus.  He only didn’t realize, that he was the same Jesus who was with him in the boat.  So next time you hear a teaching on picking on Peter, at least he was there. He hadn’t stayed at home where it was safe.  He was out with Jesus, not just in a study or teaching.  Pray for those who only live for Jesus inside the four walls of a church.  Who never encounter little girls who have questions about salvation.  Who know it all but don’t know Jesus.  On our own we are destined to fail, Peter proves that.  But when the spirit guides us, we can feel secure that Jesus is with us.  By the way, where were the other disciples that night?  Hiding?  At least Peter was out there with Jesus.  Hide behind the Bible, and never know the thrill of victory.  Get out and live the Bible, and come close to defeat, knowing the victory we have in Jesus.  Peter walked in faith, he ran in fear.  Read about life or ride about it.  A picture may be worth a thousand words, but 1000 words will never replace 1000 miles.  Where would you have been that night?  How would you have answered?  Some read, some ride.  Some run from, so run to.  Some ask, some answer.  Some fear, some stand firm.  Iron butt or iron heart?  Some time you will be confronted.....and how will you respond?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the weekend is willing, the spirit is weak

After being escorted out of Florida by their State Police, it was back to Jersey, and find work.  Which landed me a job as Traffic Manager for London Records @$150/week, good money in 1974.  Where I would learn about life not taught in any class, and get to use my Spanish learned from Miss Ludi’s Spanish class.  Sort of.  She didn’t teach us to cuss or swear, but I picked that up easily the first week, and learned Castillian Spanish is different than that from Puerto Rico and Cuba, which is different from Spanglish in San Diego.  But I was young, and learned fast.  And suddenly this white boy from an upper middle class town was thrust into International intrigue.

My boss was a big Italian man, Amos Romeo, who drove a 1967 GTO, and always wanted to race against my R90S, just to see how fast I really was.  But my immediate bosses, Mario and Julio were both of Puerto Rican descent and great guys.  Julio was quiet and got things done, Mario outgoing and very helpful, translating for me when I needed it-constantly.  But his English had a heavy accent, and many time he had to write what he was saying so I, we could understand.  But he always had a smile, and provided me with a Columbian secretary named Alba Mary.  Very pretty with heavy red lipstick, her English consisted of “OK Mike,” and a smile.  She did the filing, fortunately the numbers are bilingual, and always had a smile.  Now my job was to route freight, and the gifts, incentives from trucking companies ran from tickets to ball games to your favorite bottle.  Always being reminded of a local guy from Brooklyn with his own truck, who stayed until closing.  He would take all not picked up, and many times Mario would tell me, “send more freight Al’s way, his kid needs braces,” or “he’s having a rough month.”

But within this huge warehouse, many sub-companies existed.  One consisted of two guys, Tony and Carlos, who both talked so fast you never could understand them, and when you said “what,” talked louder, until finally throwing their hand in their air, and commenting on your heritage.  Ironically these two worked in a cage, I think for our protection more than theirs.  The packers consisted mostly of Puerto Ricans, with one Maria, built like a refrigerator, would always pinch me when I walked by.  Her co-worker Benito, loved the Yankees, and most of our conversations were either “Yankees, si” pointing to his ever present Yankee cap, or telling Maria a dirty joke and making her pinch me.  But we all somehow got along....except for the Cubans.

We had to keep the Puerto Ricans and Cubans separate, some places with a floor to ceiling fence.  They hated each other.  The Cubans were refugees, and not Americans, the Puerto Ricans real Americans, and hated because they were.  Go figure.  But the head Cuban was a dignified man, who before his exile had been a high government official, very respected and classy, called Sargento.  Who ran his area like the military.  But his counterpart from Puerto Rico was El Tigre, who looked like an old Tony Montana.  A cigarette with ashes about to drop were always between his lips, and El Tigre enforced the law.  He was often seen during working hours holding court with his men, no one interfered.  I think he tolerated me, I always went to Julio for help with him.  Add in the fork lift driver from Haiti, St. Cyprian La Prince, the Jewish guys in the office who ran London Records, Freddy, the black chauffeur of the owner of the place, known as the “Old Man,” and we were truly a diverse, if not interesting work place.  But somehow we all got along, and I think Alba Mary would agree, “OK, Mike.”

We all might agree, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is for the weekend.  And for 40+ hours a week, I was willing, weekends not included.  I was not saved yet, and my two worlds were converging, work in a West Side Story atmosphere, and home life, party central.  And the two were taking a toll on each other.  Something had to give, and when BH offered me a junior executive job, I took it.  Seems the flesh is weak, the dollar stronger.  And when influenced by ego and pride, along with a title, “hasta luego London Records, hola Polychrome.”  But as Christians we fight the same battles, and I soon found the spirit was willing, at least in church on Sunday mornings, and the flesh week once I left.  Sometimes I felt the words of Jesus asking me like he did Peter, “could you not watch for me one more hour?”  I was physically awake, but spiritually asleep.  And not sleeping very well.  And I found in the diversity that I had left behind more secure than in the new world with Jesus I was in now.  Pressure from the church, well meaning brothers, and others who knew what was best for me.  Soon I found the human sense of independence growing, as the freedom I knew in Christ had turned to rules, regulations, and all the things I didn’t want to have to do with religion.  I would brag “I am a Christian,”  to other Christians, yet never have to explain who I was to my secular friends.  They accepted me pretty much as I was, and didn’t put restrictions on me.  The one place I thought I could find acceptance, the church wasn’t it.  I had confused a walk in Christ with the church.  And the two are not the same at all.  I soon knew how Peter felt, where was that extra hour when I needed it?

And it was found in prayer.  Seeking God, going beyond church doctrine and pleasing them.  Keeping up an appearance of happiness, while bummed inside.  It was when I started to trust the spirit, that my life changed.  I had the knowledge, knew the songs, carried a Bible.  But in my submission to Jesus, I found that extra hour Jesus spoke of, to do what he asked, and only what he asked.  I had been impressed by so-called strong Christians who were always doing things in the church, but found in my weakness, like Paul did, God’s strength was made perfect.  And soon the joy of the Lord became my strength.  My understanding limited at best, I learned to trust.  No negotiations, trust Jesus not for something, just worship him for who he is.  He is God incarnate, savior, and when he became Lord of my life, the I knew of the freedom he promised.  In the spirit, not of man, should I boast.  It was OK to be scared, but to find strength in Christ.  To be honest, and not a facade.  When a friend and I talked about death, we agreed it was scary, although we knew heaven waited.  We had never done death before....but Jesus has.  And in him, we will too be resurrected.  With no ethnic barriers, no fences between denominations, no arguing over King James vs. NIV.  It will be all about Jesus.  So what are you waiting for? 

When you are sure in your weakness, you will get strength from God.  If you are having problems today, go to Jesus, just as you are.  He knows, your friends probably do too, the church may ignore it.  Only Jesus loves you as you are, and doesn’t want you to stay that way.  He promises life abundantly, overflowing in joy.  The spirit is willing, deny the weekend flesh, even of church, and trust God.  To which even Alba Mary would agree, “Jesus, OK Mike.”  In any language, at any job, on any weekend, he is Lord.  Jesus is Lord.  Jesus Christo es el senor.  There, see how easy it is.  Bet you didn’t know the language of love was bi-lingual too.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

"he lived at Monticello and..."

The TV show Jeopardy has been around for years, and been a daily staple of education for America.  Things trivial and also formally taught, it is amazing all the facts and figures that are out there.  Once only available from Jeopardy via the encyclopedia, who reads those things anyway, we now have the internet to how our trivial fixation fulfilled.  But Jeopardy is as much a game of knowledge as it is of skill, speed must accompany the correct answer.  Too slow, you lose, too fast, you lose also.  But one time in Mr. Koch’s history class, my Jeopardy recall made me a hero in our knowledge bowl.  Always trying to outfox us ninth graders, his final question of the contest was “who was Schuyler Colfax?”  And I knew!  And I had learned it on Jeopardy!  It seems no one else on the panel that day did either, but I remembered Art Fleming revealing the answer, “he was Andrew Johnson’s vice president.”  A fact I never forgot.  And for that moment in time I was the genius, until I revealed my source.  Quit while you are ahead.

But too often contestants ring in too soon, not reading the whole answer.  For example, “ he lived at Monticello and...” someone rings in.  “Thomas Jefferson.”  Wrong.  The next guy reads the whole question, “he lived at Monticello and was Jefferson’s favorite horse.”  And gives the right answer, wins the game.  Patience in Jeopardy too can be a virtue.  And no, I have no idea who the horse was.  I was the guy who rang in too early.  Or the horse Schuyler Colfax rode either.  And the horse you rode in on....

I ask pastors “what is the most important quality of a pastor?”  The answers range from “knowing the word,” to “being a good speaker,” and all in between.  Not one has ever given the right answer, “a good listener.”  A fact I learned from Jeopardy.  Yet so many point me directly to a scripture before hearing the question, and then have to back track.  A position that should have wisdom, sometimes only falls short by having knowledge.  How can you answer a question if you don’t listen and hear the entire question?  Yet in this world of sound bites, we have become just that.  Call it selective hearing, I call it lousy ministering.  You decide.

But we are given situations every day to listen and respond, and when we respond outside of the holy spirit, we fall short.  I know of a group who gives out apples to the poor, who cannot eat them because of no teeth.  Or those who give out microwave meals to the homeless.  Duh?  And while the church says “well done,” it wasn’t.  Did they ever think of the homeless, or just of themselves?  We feel good doing the various walks to cure this and that, toy runs to give toys to the poor, but how about daily living?  Do we listen to what the spirit is saying, or just what we want to hear?  Do we hear Jesus’ complete words, or cut him off mid-sentence?  He would have listened, do you?

So when some well meaning person goes with us to minister for the first time, they ask what should I do?  My answer may seem harsh, but direct, “shut up and listen.”  How do you know how to answer if you haven’t?  And one night, when this well meaning, but “I came to preach the word” girl came with us, she found out why.  An old lady, who could barely walk, was coming up the stairs, I met her and helped her.  I asked her name, told her mine, and was listening, when Ms. Preacher interrupted, “do you know Jesus?  You’re a sinner, he can save you.”  And this frail old homeless woman proved my point.  While the girl started to quote scripture, this woman countered her with it.  Totally putting her in her place, lovingly, but reminding her, “I may be homeless, but I know Jesus.  And you are doing a lousy job of evangelizing.”  You see,she had to go to the bathroom, that was her need for the moment.  Seems even Christians can’t hold it forever....I was meeting a need, ministering to her, treating her with respect, the girl was never invited back.  Her church training had let her down.  I wonder how she would do on Jeopardy?

Maybe a quick reminder of Mary annointing the feet of Jesus is in order here.  Good enough to be in the Bible, good enough to make us stop and listen.  And repeat.  There are times to meet physical needs, time for meeting spiritual needs.  Mary had insight as to his death, and was annointing him with oil, a celebration of what was to come.  She didn’t know if she would have the chance later, so did it now.  Spending a year’s wages on the feet of our Lord.  While Martha complained.  Mary listened to the spirit and responded, Martha only saw a meal and the effort to prepare it.  Both saw Jesus, and had a chance to worship him, only one responded giving him the glory.  One answered the cry of her heart, the other rang in too soon.  And when Martha interfered, Jesus told her “leave her alone.  She has done a beautiful thing to me.” 

That night on the stairs, I was celebrating Jesus by showing this woman love, meeting her need, walking her up the stairs.  I heard what the spirit said. Think a minute, how long can you hold it?  How long had she been holding it?  How long had Mary been looking for a chance to worship Jesus, and when she saw the opportunity, took it.  Regardless of cost, or what her sister would say.  Do we celebrate Jesus by completing his words, “whoever gives to the least of them, does it unto me.”  How would Jesus have greeted the woman on the stairs, how would you?  Do you ring in too soon with knowledge, and miss the whole statement?  Are you missing a chance to relate to Jesus and worship him?  Jesus told us “he who has an ear let him hear,” he didn’t say “he who has a mouth let him speak.”  Funny how you can control your mouth, but not your ears.  Mary’s worship of Jesus is recorded and retaught every day.  Do we take the message of Jesus in love and worship to others, or are we to busy cooking to forget who we are serving?  Two women, only one had the sensitivity of heart.  How would you have greeted the woman on the steps, what if she was you?  How would you like to be treated?

The things we do are timely, and feasible.  Some needs greater, some lesser, but needs none the less. Listen to what the spirit says, and then obey.  Trust what Jesus wants you to do, and never mess an opportunity to worship him in your actions.  Mary saw the poor would always be around, she seized the chance to worship Jesus.  We see it the opposite, we see Jesus in church, and fail to see poor all around.  Don’t ring in too soon, you may have the right answer, but the wrong question.  The man who thinks he knows all the answers hasn’t heard all the questions.  And by the way, Jefferson’s horse was named Caractus....who one time threw him and broke TJ’s arm...but that’s another story.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

  

007's balancing act-you didn't think we were watching

Although American Graffiti is about the last night of friends before summer ends, for me it is all about the cars.  So keeping an eye on them, during one street scene a 1972ish Chevy sedan is seen cruising, obviously the editor isn’t a car guy.  Where was he in ‘62?  Same with Diamonds are Forever, where James accompanied by Jill St. John goes into a one way alley, and goes up on two wheels leaning to one side, and comes out leaning on the opposite side.  Maybe we are supposed to be concentrating on Miss St. John, I was, but noticed it after about the 20th time I saw it.  And films have no claim to exclusivity in mistakes, how many have seen a villian in a new Lincoln sedan, and an older Chevy goes over the cliff, and a thirties car is on fire at the bottom?  Happens all the time, but just not to criminals either.  Adam 12 in the later years drove an AMC Matador, but scenes showing the dash and speedo are definitely late sixties Plymouth.  And in how many chase scenes does it sound like they are shifting that Torque Flite endlessly?  How many gears does that old three speed have in it?  Remember Starsky and Hutch, supposedly Starsky hated the car and ran into things on purpose, I can remember some scenes the front end toed out, yet when leaving on the next scene all is well.  But my favorite was they were chasing a bad guy in a 1963 white Chevy, that turned into a green 1964 Chevy just before going over the cliff.  Lots of cliffs out there.  And then later the same green 1964 is seen being driven by the crooks.  Maybe not filmed in continutity....but we noticed it anyway.

But maybe the car that took the most lickings and still kept ticking was Jim Rockford’s Firebird.  Gold with white walls, 853 OKG, which started out as a 1974, and ended up a 1979, seems Garner didn’t like the new 1980’s front ends, I didn’t either.  But in one scene, in an early show, he has raised white tires on a Formula, later the same car is different, now an Esprit, with the signature white walls.  How many times was that car wrecked or chased beyond repair, only to show up a few scenes later the same day in one piece?  Yeah, I know there were multiple cars, but this was real life TV, wasn’t it?  And we have come to identify cars by their film or TV roles, some being more famous than the actors.  Ask Pontiac how many Trans Ams they sold after Smokey and the Bandit?  The black not available until after the movie came out.  No telling how many cars were wrecked in it.  But from red Fords being chased by John and Ponch and rolling over as a blue Torino, from interiors not matching the brands interior, to multi-geared transmissions, to Miss St. John leaning one way then the next, keep a watchful eye out.  Someone is always looking....

As Christians we are always on display, seems everyone knows how we should behave, except the watcher who exhibits his life differently.  But Jesus advises us to watch, for the master will return and we don’t know when.  Be alert, don’t go to sleep, don’t wander off.  Don’t quit living like a Christian, for temptations and trials will prevail if we do.  Just a little slumber, and a seed is planted, and soon we develop other habits.  Thinking, well the master hasn’t come yet, I’m OK.  But just because you don’t see him doesn’t mean he doesn’t see you!  But while we are watching for his physical return, we miss the fact that his spirit never left us, and that we can be deceived easily.  We are leaning one way today, the other way tomorrow.  Hoping no one realizes how we have changed...but we know, even if we don’t admit it.  I have encountered too many Christians over the years, who have fallen away.  Name an excuse, jobs, family, drugs, illness-they have seen it all.  But Jesus.  They were busy living a church life based on who saw the way they lived, but outside of church became another.  Double minded, and soon one mind took over the other.  Slowly but surely.  And soon the white car life they lived turned to green, and no one noticed, for they had dropped out of sight.  Gone over the cliff, and still believe in God, they just don’t act like.  If he hasn’t come back yet, he isn’t coming.  Yet Jesus only tells them “watch!”

It is tough being a Christian if it is all about the external, but when spirit driven, we change from the inside out.  Funny how sin changes us the same way, and in both cases we only concern ourselves with the external.  When we start looking and listening to others, we fall short of hearing God’s voice.  It is still and small, doesn’t scream and is familiar.  And unlike cars in the movies, he never changes.  Once a Firebird, always a Firebird.  He is also aware of all the cars in the scene, and the actors too.  Us, who sometimes worship things more than the creator, or the men and women he created. 

So don’t let anything derail you from Jesus.  If we are as spiritually alert as we are for spotting car bloopers, maybe we would see a different side of Jesus.  We would be looking forward to his return, anxiously waiting to go to heaven.  But for now we have to settle for his promise of on earth as it is in heaven.  For the spirit to guide and encourage us, to forgive others as he forgave us, and show his love as he loved us.  That ought to keep us busy enough.  Funny it took me several times to notice the red Mustang change directions when 007 drove it, don’t take as long with Jesus.  He is right in front of us right now.  Our actions will reflect what is on our heart, and what we really believe.  The most effective witness is our actions.  That is why we walk in faith, and work out our salvation every day.  For like cars in film, things are every changing.  Aren’t you glad Jesus isn’t?  Some live life waiting for Jesus to return, his spirit never left.  Don’t live like 007’s balancing act....stay straight and true...10-4 good buddy.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com