Going to car shows, you often hear the word classic referred to anything on display that is older than you. And there is truth that some of us/you are classics, but the term is way overused. We have Classic Coke, I learned history from Classics Illustrated, and my dad had a Rambler Classic 770. All classic, by name, but maybe not by definition. When referring to Classic cars, note the capital C, the Classic Car club of America has noted certain cars built from 1925 to 1948 as Classics. You won't find the old Maverick you drove in high school, or the 57 Chevy that everyone seemed to own at one time. Popular cars, that evoke a certain charisma, and allow us to relive precious memories, but they are not Classics. Cars such as Hispano Suiza, Horch, Stutz, and Pierce Arrow head the list. The three P's-Packard, Peerless, and Pierce Arrow have many models-not all-listed among them, as cars are judged on an individual basis, by body, chassis builder and even ownership. When cruising these shows many cars may make us misty eyed, or bring a smile to our faces while looking at them, but the Classics are the royalty here.
And although they have their place, royalty among a group of commoners, it is the classics-small c-the ones that rekindle memories are the real classics to me. Learning to drive in my parents 1966 Rambler Classic 770-a four door sedan with a six cylinder-not the car of my dreams, but the car of my memories as it was the first car I ever drove legally on the street. Traded for a new Pinto-at least it had the 2.0 motor, with an automatic, it has memories, that let's just will remain buried, which is where they belong. My first car I owned, a used 1969 BMW 1600, bought from my dad when he bought a new one. The first Rabbit in 1975, which ran so bad VW had it more than I did. From MG's-two of them, to Chevies, to Fords, each one is filed in my memory, and is used as a bookmark to fill in the time period. For instance, we owned our 1984 T-Bird when we lived in Farmington. The 87 Escort, bought when we had no money-a price leader with no options, that survived being stolen, abused, driven hard, and finally traded with 115,000 miles on it for our first Ranger. Used to take us to Baja, when we were involved with professional Off Road Racing, SCORE. Each vehicle, a classic in our memory, that when used up either got sold, traded, or given to someone else to begin their memory lane with. Cars that when the memories of our lives are rerun, are bigger and better than they ever were in real life. A testimony to just being there, at a time when they were needed.
There was a group of religious men, Pharisees, at the time of Jesus, who were Jewish, and were charged with keeping the laws-all 613 of them. Try that someday for joy, all of you who don't live in the spirit. From ceremonial washing, to not letting their robes hit the ground, to not touching one who wasn't holy, they lived a life they deemed superior to all others. But sadly, their position, and their egos, were their own self prescribed prison. Trying to keep all the laws, and if you broke one God said you broke them all, is impossible. I've tried,and have gone as long as 10-15 minutes before slipping up. You see just as there are Classics, there are people today with an attitude of a Pharisee. They are superior to us-having titles as Most Excellent, or my favorite, reverend. Try that one on Pastor Chuck sometime and see the response. And it is sad because, these titled men never see the joy of being in the body like Jesus did. Their position keeps them from standing in line to eat at a pot luck. Or visiting men in the hospital without any fanfare. And their audience showering them with faint praise, respecting the title more than the person. Like a Classic, on display, ceremonious clean, and never used as designed. Both car and person missing out on the joy of holding a baby, or riding to a drive in and hanging with our friends. Menial tasks we take for granted, but events that are the basis for precious memories.
Yesterday I had one of those memories. Our senior Bible study has a lunch date each month to celebrate birthdays. Sitting with a couple, there was a divider between us and a lady, who I later found out was listening to us talk about Jesus. When I got up to leave, I said "please keep me in prayer." As I walked past her, she stopped me, and said she had heard my request for prayer, and did, and would. She also gave me a Christian newspaper, telling me to read it, as God has something for me. I thanked her, and told her how she was a Lazarus that hadn't stepped over me that day, and introduced myself. She smiled as she said her name was Emily Lazarian-and she was a Lazarus. Her last name meant from the family of Lazarus. A classic moment, just two people who love Jesus, in a coffee shop, but with a true Classic in common-Jesus Christ. Try scripting that one Hollywood.
Today you may only be a used Mazda in your own eyes, but to Jesus you are a Classic, a one of a kind, built for a purpose. So start acting like one-but do it among us non-classics. The mission field is where the action is, and where the memories are made. So get out and drive often-driven by a spirit of love that has you listed as a true classic too, the book of life. Here's to all you four door sedans in my life, who if you were a red convertible never would have made such an impact. We call you Classics, Jesus calls you friends.
love with compassion,
Mike
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