springtime at the swim club

The tall fence around the swim club, in the woods at the end of Algonquin Drive was a great deterrent to us almost teen age kids.  From a hill above we could see over it, with its shiny and deep pools, diving boards, and lifeguards chairs.  But for most of us that was the only view we would ever get, as only the rich belonged to the swim club, the rest of us didn’t.  But during the winter months when it was empty, we would risk going down by the entrance, a chain link fence with barbed wire on top of it, giving a different, close up look, but very limited.  We got to know when the security guard did his rounds, and it became a game to dodge him, before we got chased, being told “you kids don’t being here,” as if he did based on his pay.  But as it is when hanging around the older guys, or those with older brothers, the tales were told of the big guys in high school would climb the fence, and take a swim.  These daring guys were our heroes, and even when one would say hi instead of making fun of you, you felt like a big deal.  But one late spring afternoon before the pool was officially open, we were hanging around as usual, when a group pulled up in cars and got out, and climbed over the fence and began to swim.  With one of them asking “you guys want to join us?”  Do we ever, so we watched as they climbed over the barbed wire carefully, dropped down, and stripped to their underwear.  Amazing how pasty white a body turns over a New Jersey winter, and soon we were swimming in the cold water with the big guys.  Until the lookout yelled “COPS!” and they all grabbed their clothes and quickly went out over the fence in the back, where the access was easier, with no explanation of why they didn’t enter that way in the first place.  But we just did make it, freezing cold running in the cold air, and thinking up the lies to tell our parents.  But really thinking up the cooler versions of climbing the fence and swimming with the big guys.  Something we never did again......

Looking back we never saw how the high school guys in their cars got past the cops.  We only ran like they were hot on our trail.  But every time we would go by there and play, it took on a different view.  We had seen the other side of the fence, we had been inside, and found the fence had two purposes.  One to keep those not allowed out, but once in, it had become a prison of sorts for us, as we couldn’t get out.  This haven for the rich and their families to swim had been violated, and on one Memorial Day a few years later, using BH’s parents pass, we went in through the front gate.  Which made me feel as if they were going to pull me aside and question me, “weren’t you with the big kids that day who jumped the fence?”  And no amount of denial would convince them otherwise.  Busted!  Led out in cuffs, and dropped on the outside of the gate, “don’t even try to come back, we know who you are.”  And suddenly all the coolness of breaking in vanished.....But I made it, but somehow the thrill was not the same, nor the pool the same when filled with members.  And I wasn’t one.  If only his parents ever found out.....

Depending on our audience, we tell the stories of Jesus in our life different.  Among other Christians we want to impress, it is “ all glory to God, praise the Lord,” and he gets all the credit.  Mostly.  Too many times we have to brag on our part, as if God had counseled with us first, “and of course God...” and the story continues.  But when in a group on non-believers, when among those who can criticize and make fun of you, the story is different.  The doctor, the mechanic, even you are the hero, and God goes missing.  And then remorse sets in, and if we are smart we repent until the next time.  We also try to hide our sin the same way.  Denying we were even there, but many times missing the chance to share Jesus to someone God had put in our way.  Consider how the church has bagged on Peter for denying Jesus in the garden, after being told he would.  “Not me Jesus,” and off he went.  Weeping bitterly after lying to a teen age girl.  But just suppose this girl wanted to hear about Jesus, she knew he had been with him, and wanted to be saved, to hear the gospel?  Sound like too many of us when approached, a big shot in church, a scared rabbit outside.  Forgetting God has ordered things, he will give the words needed, and never leave you.  As you quickly tailor your testimony and alter him out.  Too many times when I felt threatened, I found strength in letting God’s words flow from me.  And we both were blessed.  Remember, someone shared Jesus with you, and it probably wasn’t in church.  Peter was in the garden, Jesus was close by as were his disciples.  He had plenty of strength if needed, yet he fled.  But what a different Peter only weeks later when addressing the 3000, when the spirit gave him the words.

Years ago at a Hollister Rally, we went by the Boozefighter’s booth wanting get their new book.  Just two guys and Theresa and I.  When JQ, a head taller than me put me in a headlock and asked “oh good, a Christian, I have a question for you.”  And my theological juices were flowing, wow, sharing Jesus with a 1%er.  But his question, “can God make a rock so big he cannot lift it?” surprised me as much as did my answer.  “You don’t ask God stupid things like that,” and he loved the answer.  Even gave me his email to keep in touch.  The words the spirit had given me at that moment were the right ones, not what I had planned.  But a lesson learned, when asked “are you in the word?” can you honestly say the word is in you?  Scripture tells us the spirit is with us who believe, so is the word in you?  Your words may tell us different.   We all need the spirit just like Peter did.

Sin will put a wall between us and God, only Jesus can break it down.  Some try to escape looking for a way out and over, Jesus takes us through.  On the day I enter heaven it will be through the front gate, not over a fence.  And the heavenly gates will protect me, but remain open for others to enter, and those inside will not wish to leave. But as for the lost, the gate they are found behind is locked.  For they will want to escape, but cannot.  Knowing forever they denied the truth that could have set them free. 

To be honest, the water was freezing that day, and we were scared to death of being caught.  But the thought of jumping the fence, of being with the bigger guys was too much.  Don’t take your chances with heaven, be sure you can walk right in the front gate, and be welcomed by Jesus himself.  And avoid telling your parents how you really got wet!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

track day on the PCH

At age 21 I threw a leg over my R90S and headed west, never looking back.  Ever since I read the article “Highway 1 you Ultimate One” in one of the first Rider magazines, subscriber since 1974, The PCH was a goal of mine to ride.  The romance of the ocean and hills and cliffs was too enticing, and I have ridden it many times, in fact I will admit to being PCHed out.  Both ways I have ridden it, and each time it is different, from freezing rain to windy, clear blue skies, each ride takes on its own sense of beauty, and every time I ride it, I find I am not PCHed out, but have so many more roads to travel.  For years it was the Malibu Canyon roads, living in Durango the Million Dollar Highway Loop has been done many times.  Rocky Mountain National Park, three times now.  The Mogollon Rim over a dozen, three times last year in fact.  When reading about the best motorcycle roads, I often have ridden them, and even better ones just off the main routes they brag about, with less traffic.  Ever ridden the Road to Escalante, Highway 12 in Utah?  How about Highway 49, the Golden Chain in California?  Route 32 winding along the Delaware in Pennsylvania?  I could spend a week in Southern Ohio and never see the same roads twice.  Blue Ridge Parkway, Natchez Trace, and US 1 to Key West?  The Chesapeake  Bay Bridge?  Any road in Northern Arkansas.  Vermont routes 100 and 7?  The Berkshires in Massachusetts?  Each a different ride, each one with a memory of its own.  With two criteria to consider on each ride, the bike and who you do it with.

The last ride I ever had with Rex, he died a few days after we split off in Prescott, was the PCH.  A landslide had closed the road about 25 miles north of Cambria, so finding a motel was easy, no traffic.  But the next morning, we had a 25 mile stretch of the PCH all to ourselves with no traffic.  So we rode it half a dozen times, up and back.  Going faster each time, as we got to know the road better.  Think of it as a track day on the PCH, sadly Rex is gone and I am the only one who has the memory now, but my KZ750 screamed like never before trying to keep up with Rex on his older Yamaha 750 three.  It was 1983, over 36 years ago, but the memories of the last ride with a good friend linger today, even naming my second son after Rex.  So every time someone mentions the PCH,  and what a great ride it is, my take is just a little different.  If you don’t ride, if you haven’t lost a good friend and riding partner, you may not get it.  The road is only a small part of the riding equation, and so is the bike you ride.  It is the people you do it with that make it all come together.  So while some brag they ride it like they stole it, I tend to ride like it may be the last ride I take with my friends, and I want to make it special.  How you see the ride makes all the difference.  I hope you all have a PCH track day in your riding memory.

We sometimes get the impression that Jesus healed everyone he met.  But we find in one village, due to lack of faith, he could only do a few miracles.  It might have been the limited views that led to a limited life.  One of it’s the same everywhere, so why go.  Nobody knows the problems I have.  Have you become so deadened to life that your sense of smell, your taste, and your feeling have been altered?  Do all sermons sound the same, is it the same old Jesus over and over, and you don’t want to hear about him anymore?  Have you condemned yourself falsely blaming him for your poor choices and negative results?  Have you become hardened to certain roads because you have travelled them so much, but fail to  see how new they are to someone else?  Is your spiritual life limited because of your limited view of Jesus?  Some will declare him a carpenter’s son, some even a great teacher, some go as far as a prophet.  But do you see him as the son of God, God incarnate, the deity who became a man to save us from our sins?  Too much church and not enough Jesus?  Know all the verses but never applied them?  Know all the songs but never let them fill your heart with joy?  Has your small mind let you become a small Christian?

Do you know more about him than actually knowing him?  Knowledge puffs up, but wisdom opens our eyes to all the spirit has for us.  A chance to see scripture as God inspired it, making it personal.  Nazareth blew it with Jesus, even going as far as to say “can anything good come out of Nazareth?”  It’s time to let go of old teachings and prejudices that limit Jesus, that hinder the spirit.  To really experience God’s forgiveness, to really see his grace.  I watch as my grandson learns by doing, and he cannot read yet at 18 months.  Yet knows to twist a throttle to make the motor go!  Is all the Jesus you know based on teaching, or have you ever ridden with him in life?  When we truly do not limit God’s grace, his forgiveness, his love and power, we grow in grace and lie is beautiful.  It doesn’t mean it won’t rain, or the bike will always start.  It just means that you are never alone in any situation.  For he has left you his spirit until he calls us home.  So maybe the one you ride with does make all the difference....

Add Jesus to your ride today and let him enrich your life beyond your wildest dreams.  You see at first we were bummed when we found the PCH blocked, but later were overjoyed as God had made it a special day and ride just for us.  Your ride may not be long or seem special today, but when Jesus is along it is special to him.  He wants to spend time with you, not just hunched over a book studying, but out living.  Jesus spent his life on the road, he was where the action is.  And for one special day on the PCH, we had our track day.  May all your rides be as memorable, for the best is yet to come.  You just need to get out and do it! 

Highway 10 south out of Albuquerque, US 76 across northern Georgia, MacKenzie Pass in Oregon, and the Columbia River Gorge are all great rides.  Don’t neglect the fun to be had while getting there!  for some the ride is over before it’s begun, for the rest of us it is only beginning. 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

war of the worlds

I loved the original movie “War of the Worlds,” where Gene Barry as a handsome Cal Tech professor seeks to find the solution to stopping the invaders.  A movie, like many of the other good ones that each time I see it, I see something new.  But with special effects that are believable, a pretty heroine, and the townsfolk who come face to face with them, it is all believable.  Just like it was on the radio with Orson Wells a few years earlier.  So I enjoy it, and will again.  But one part that always has us laughing is the weaponry used on the invaders.  Guns, dynamite, bombs, and other heavy duty artillery have no effect on them, yet when invading a farmhouse, a broom is taken against them and they flee, damaged and confused.  Maybe we need to arm our police and Armed Forces with brooms!  But in the end, it seems the invaders could not live here on Earth, as our atmosphere has little germs in it, that were deadly to them.  And the moral at the end was about the least of God’s creation winning the battle.  A great movie, a far cry from the Tom Cruise remake....talk about the least of God’s creatures....

I learned years ago that too many people who are admitted into hospitals and die there, don’t die from what they were admitted for.  Infection is a deadly device, and having almost succumbed to it, I can tell you I never want to go through that again, nor my family.  Like in WotW, it was and is the little things that can be most deadly.  And so many can be prevented, if we only pay attention.  Over the years I have ministered to many who didn’t take care of their body, who abused it with drugs or alcohol.  So many times the talk of death comes up, and I reassure that there are consequences more deadly than death.  I know too many who have had feet amputated from diabetes brought on by alcoholism. Who cannot get out, and must be attended to 24 hours in some cases.  I know others on breathing machines, who cannot go to the bathroom without help.  Those who have gone blind, lost teeth, or even gone mad, reduced to a childlike state.  Left on the street to die.  And so often I hear from those who are warned, that they will be different, they will know when to stop.  They are different, not stupid like the others.  When it is only a matter of time....

Jesus warns us there is no little sin, and that sin, like leaven, will soon go through the whole loaf.  Whether we like it or not, it is uncontrollable from a certain point.  But yet they espouse excuses, lying to themselves more than to their audience, as even junkies know from first hand experience.  It seems misery loves company, no one wants to get high alone, so they need an accomplice, so often found in a so called friend.  An old friend Frank used to buy us hard liquor to get drunk with him, as he mainlined vodka into his stomach.  A scene I can never forget.  The little sin became a big one, an appetite that could not be suppressed, and soon he was without friends, wife, job, and soon disappearing from sight.  If only we had had a broom to beat some sense into him with.

An article I read this morning tells how with the decriminalization of marijuana, that it has adversely effected Mexico, so they have gone to smuggling women, children, and heroine.  Seems some 70% of the women attempting to cross the border illegally have been sexually abused, some many times. Something to consider with the next toke you take, or needle you inject in your arm.  There is no isolated sin, collateral damage is frequent, nobody was ever a nobody and became a somebody by doing drugs.  That little sin, the little white lie spreads like wildflower, there is no isolated sin anymore.

But in Jesus Christ we have an advocate, one who deals with the infinite, both large and small.  Who provides for the the birds of the air, but cares for you more.  We once had some nasty birds who used to swoop down at out dog and us, so one day I took a hose to their nest, totally destroying it.  Hoping they would leave.  Only to find them playing in the puddles I had made.  And so the battles continue, a war of two worlds, good and evil, but with a promise from God, wherever sin abounds, grace does even more.  And in Christ we can be assured of two things, one this too shall pass, and when Jesus is in it, your boat will not sink.  In our darkest moments, when we are at our weakest, God’s strength is made perfect.  My nurses told me that I was strong and it helped me survive, but I know different.  Comatose is no way to do battle, and can be worse than death for a believer.  People fear because they have no faith, what are you afraid of?

Fear is normal, how we handle it tells a lot about who Jesus is in our life.  I was quite content to die, I know where I am going, but God has his timetable set differently.  There are only two things in your life you have no control over, the day you were born, and the day you die.  But in between you have a lot of say....don’t waste it fighting God when you can be on his side and winning.  Like War of the Worlds reminds us, “the things seen are temporal, the things not seen eternal.”  Unless you are an invader....life is for the living, even Gene Barry has to admit that! Sin was the original invasion entering through the first man Adam, it was overcome and destroyed by the last Adam, Jesus Christ.  Like the movie poster says, “at this moment ships from beyond are on their way to destroy our planet.”  Aren’t you glad you know Jesus?  For only he saves...and he has everything under control.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the first supper

Back in the days when San Diego had a stadium and a team to play in it, I was new to the area and trying to make my mark in it, read survive with my family.  I was involved in a Bible study at ORW with Howard Hughes the owner, and a few other businessmen.  It was just after Christmas, and the topic of the Super Bowl playing at Jack Murphy Stadium was discussed.  With the leader, Don, thoroughly disgusted with the local treatment of it, at least to the poor.  To make America’s Finest City appear as such, the homeless were pawns, moved and hidden from public view, and those he worked with were suffering even more while the rich got richer.  Because he was known within downtown circles as a mover and shaker, really a truth talking troublemaker, he was invited to the Mayor’s Super Bowl breakfast.  Big money, and big risks at stake, as the Super Bowl brings in big bucks to the sponsoring city.  And San Diego was ready, or so they thought.  They hadn’t dealt with Don.....

It upset him so that he used his political connections to lease for a nominal sum, a major hall in Balboa Park to show the Super Bowl on TV.  For free to the homeless and downtrodden, and those moved by A’sFC for political purposes.  Setting up 28 foot screens, he invited everyone, and fed over 3000 people a spaghetti dinner made from scratch.  Which my family and I attended, meeting many who were on the street, some new in town and lonely, and some just trying to get by.  A room of hookers, bikes, junkies, homeless, vagrants, pushers, and all colors, red and yellow black and white.  All precious in God’s sight, and we had a blast!  My young sons playing with homeless kids, and eating with a guy from Texas living in his car, unable to find work.  I guess a license plate number is not an address.  Somehow Don had pulled it off, and somehow no one was arrested, no police presence, and all had a good time.  It seems homeless people like football too, they like spaghetti, they like a safe environment, and they like to be loved.  Not my first Super Bowl dinner, but the one I remember best.  A Super Bowl Sunday I know Jesus would have attended......

When Matthew met Jesus he was hiding in a tree.  Being a tax collector he was among the most hated in society, yet Jesus sees him, and calls him down, and into ministry.  No seminary, no license to preach, no denominational backing, just get down here and start a new life.  So he did, and Jesus even attended the farewell party for him.  Imagine all the other tax collectors, all their peer group, other social outcasts, sinners, homeless, all right in front of God and everybody.  Wine and beer flowing freely, and there the Pharisees found Jesus.  We are never told if they were invited or were just curious, or even wondering how they missed being invited, but they used the opportunity to chastise Jesus.  This man who represents God creating scandal, and from all indications it was obvious he was their friend.  So being the caring men they are, they approach the disciples, avoiding Jesus.  “Doesn’t he know who these people are?  Doesn’t he know what he is doing?  Doesn’t he care what people might think?”

So ever the truth teller, and master negotiator, Jesus agrees with them.  These are the lowest in society, the scum of the earth.  They are leading immoral lives, and are filled with evil.  The are mentally, physically, and spiritually sick.  But where else would you put a doctor except for where people are sick?  Reminding them he came to call the sinners, not the righteous.  He had called out the self righteous Pharisees, ministered to the sick and hurting, and no preaching, no collection plate passed, and all were welcome.  For all suffer from the disease of sin....he reminded them that people are more important than prejudice, how the sick need a physician, and how foolish a righteous attitude can be, when revealed to God and his standards.  The sick knew they were sick, they had no illusions about themselves.  Do you?  Whose table would you be found at?  And would you be welcomed, or even welcoming?

It took God years later to remind me, on a trip to Ogden, Utah, deep in LDS country on my way to a Christian rally to see his point.  With not a cloud in sight, nor an exit, it started to pour, and I got mad.  “God what are you thinking putting a Christian rally in the heart of LDS land?  What’s going on?”  And his answer, was the same as Jesus to the Pharisees, “can you think of a better place to build a hospital than where people are sick and dying?”  You see, we all have a bit of the Pharisees in us, at the first dinner spoke of that Jesus attended, he made it clear why he was here.  Would Jesus be found at your dinner table, would he even be welcomed?  What if he asked to bring a friend?  What if you were that friend?  At the Last Supper Jesus asked “to do this in remembrance of me.”  I wonder how many remembered that night with Matthew and his friends?  Better yet, what do you remember?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

sheep, goats, Harleys, and selfies

Normally I wouldn’t have gone, but it was my friend Nick’s first time.  After doing crowd rides and biker based charities for years, I have seen how they have evolved into an “all about me” ride for too many, and this final ride confirmed it.  The flyers boasted a projected attendance of over 500, real count out of the driveway at Bigg’s was 197.  Still a lot of noise, but not even close.  Oh, and the ride I am talking of is the Bigg’s Toy Invasion ride, done yearly in December to get toys for kids in Rady’s Children’s Hospital, done thoughtfully, allowing the kids to pick their own gift.  While mixing with the bikes and bikers, making for a good time for all.  Sadly Nick’s comment to me when we arrived said it all, “now I know why you ride alone.”  He had hit it.

I had warned him to keep distance between you and others, back, front, and side, and as the lesser poser types revved their motors, weaved in and out of traffic, generally breaking rank, it can be scary.  Three women riders ahead of me kept me praying, anticipating the crash as one kept stalling, her apes taller than her, another missing shifts and almost running up the back of those ahead of her.  Sadly to many in the HOG groups and others, who cannot ride alone, this is normal.  This is not why I ride!  But this year was the year of the selfie, as we were held up many times while well wishers had to take their own picture, so proud of the cause they were riding for.  Sadly one turned on me when I told her about the stickers on the kids saying no photos.  And no she didn’t offer to take a selfie with me.  But the one thing that made this my last crowd ride was at the hospital, where in the past the kids were all around the bikes in the drive.  This year they had us all park in the street, some 200 feet of driveway between us and the kids.  With only the last selfie of the organizers taken on the driveway.....

So an event that used to take over two hours was done in less than 45 minutes, with many leaving early.  After mingling with some kids and their families, we took off, with Richard another veteran of many Rady’s rides with us for lunch.  Shaking our heads as to what happened......he had seen the same as we did, the HOG Group standing by themselves, CMA dusting off a guy who had been invited, he ended up talking to me, wrong guy, no make that right guy to ask about them.  Confirming what he saw.  The women riders stayed in a group, and it seemed all the groups left together.  With us stragglers left to our own schedule.  Keeping in mind the free lunch back at Bigg’s some 45 minutes away.  For some 45 minutes was too long, too much to ask of them, for a worthy cause.  I’m sure their take is different than mine......

It is no secret that Jesus drew a crowd.  From over 10,000 the day he fed the 5000, forcing him to preach from a boat, to the many lined up receiving him on Palm Sunday, he drew a crowd, and many lives were changed.  By him, not the crowd, or its organizers.  I wonder if a poll taken at the Rady’s ride would have told us more of why those who showed up did, but I have found actions are long remembered after the words fade.  Nothing new, as Jesus confronted the crowd in Matthew 25, the church, asking them why were they there.  He talks of separating the sheep and the goats, believers vs. non, or posers.  They brag how they cast out demons, and brought glory to themselves, all for him, but somehow circumnavigating Jesus.  So he tells them the story, and they don’t know they are the goats, the poor, who really need a savior.  The ask “when did we see you naked, thirsty, hungry, or cold?”  They too were the selfie crowd, the scions of the church who looked holy, but were rotting inside.  Eaten up by their own form of Christianity, Jesus was not part of it, and like the Pharisees ended up calling to “crucify him.”  But his answer is telling, and one we need to consider about us.  He says whenever you see someone hungry, thirsty, naked, in jail or sick, and minister to them, you are doing it unto me.  And ministry is more than a ride pin, more than showing up for the cameras, it goes on daily, mostly unseen by the world.  But God sees all....which ought to make a few of us sick to our stomachs.  Revving your engine says nothing about Jesus, nor does taking selfies.  No vest of run pins matter to God, for he sees the heart underneath.  His key words to the crowd, you didn’t help me.  Them.  And find themselves condemning themselves to hell forever.  They have made themselves their God of choice, stepping over the needy for a selfie shot, then heading off for a free lunch.  Feeling good about themselves.....never knowing what the rest of us see.  Or what God sees, that really matters.....

So I went, saw some old friends, introduced Nick around.  But it was on the way to lunch we saw Jeff, one of my flock, and took him to lunch.  Living on less than $800/month, this Christmas lunch would have been impossible, but God brought us together.  You see Jeff is medicated for a mental condition, but still sought God’s love and was saved.  He understands what Jesus meant to the crowd that day, as he needs ministering too.  And of all those I saw and visited with that day, it took him, to remind me.  Us.  And no selfies were taken, although we will remember this tender moment for a long time.  Ministry, seeing a need then meeting it.  No preaching, no tracts to hand out, no club to join or dues to pay.  No colors to wear telling the world you are a Christian, they are deceived by themselves, not knowing what God and others see in them.  With a harsh reality, the goats go to hell.  The sheep to heaven, God not impressed by their actions on behalf of themselves.  No follow up meeting telling themselves “oh what a good boy am I.”  If only a selfie of their hearts cold be seen.....

Crowds don’t get saved, but crowds of people do.  Individually, one on one with the spirit.  On the way to your next crowd ride, ask yourself how any Lazaruses you step over, gotta get there before it starts.  I am done with crowd rides, I got more blessings at lunch and with Jeff.  Ask yourself, “when do you see Jesus?’  Knowing he sees you.  Just might change the way you ride....forever.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthw25biker.blogspot.com