I get these invitations to go to Bible studies, where it states to join
with men who are “like minded.” I still don’t get that one, does it leave any
room for individuality? Does it mean we all drive Chevies, and make Hondas park
out back? Or like in some churches I have been a guest at, does it mean “don’t
park your motorcycle here.” Which to me means I am not welcome. But then again
I wrestle with the fact that some of the smartest people I know agree with me.
So I am faced with prejudice every where I go, even when I’m alone. But in all
groups, there is a group that rises above, who isn’t in it for the life style.
Like when I walk into Biggs Harley Davidson. The old guys know me, and what I
ride. Spud tells me we have the same disease, motorcycles. And I look at the
shiny new bikes, and I even have an invite to ride any one I want, they know I
am not a customer. But they want me to know why they ride what they
do...because we both ride. But sadly some look at my Street Triple with
disdain, and call it a rice burner. It is made in England, dummy, too bad we
both don’t speak English. And I used to be offended, until one day a friend who
rides Harleys, and loves to ride explained to me that those guys could never
ride a bike with power and handling capabilities. And they really were jealous,
because I can and do. And yet it seems like the seasoned riders, those who
remember the 60’s are the ones who come up and start the conversation, telling
how they once had a Triumph back then. While the others listen as if they are
talking blasphemy. Against the Bar and Shield. And it just isn’t lifestyle
bikers, either. Ride a non-BMW, other in their tight knit society, and you feel
like the only reason your jokes are funny is because your fly is open. But I
have owned five of them, and can admire the new GS1200. And Phil at the local
BMW-Guzzi store always likes when I stop by, telling me how nice the new Tigers
are, and how they should do well. He rides, he knows. Unlike the manager at
another BMW cult shop who asked me to park that “piece of @#$%^^!” elsewhere,
not in front of his store. How did he know I wasn’t there to trade? Stupid is
just another word for prejudice, another word for feeling insecure. And when
they meet, they are like minded.
Now I still have this childlike idea that because we ride, we like
motorcycles. Yet everyday I am reminded of how I am wrong. I fell like a babe
in the woods, right, but wrong. Instead of motorcycles making us common, we
wear our specific brand t-shirts, to let the others know what we ride, when we
are off our bikes. When I first started riding, if it wasn’t a Honda, you felt
second rate. Names like Suzuki, Kawasaki, and Yamaha were funny sounding, yet I
met some of nicest people on them. Sorry Honda. We rode, and BH’s CB750, The
Wild Man’s H1 Kawi, and my R90S were all different, but we rode, and rode
together. Our commoness was motorcycles, and so was the road we were on. And
we stuck together, and even when Bouke on his custom Z-1 rode with us, we still
felt the commoness of riding, which today still is the heart of the
brotherhood. Even talking with Sonny Barger, who knows motorcycles, he rides a
Victory, is impressed by Triumph, and hates Harleys. But we ride, and that is
our common denominator. So maybe there is something to this commonality we call
motorcycling.
In the first century church, the first church, the one Jesus first left us,
we see a spirit of commonality among believers. They came from many
backgrounds, and soon many Gentiles and Samaritans would be joining their
ranks. It was a spirit of heart and mind, the heart being the very spirit that
drove them, and the mind being how it was exercised. They were in the spirit,
enabling them to be like minded. And when a rich man sold a property, and gave
the money to the church, it was to help the needs that arose. Not to bring him
glory. and not communism, but commonism, they all knew what they had rally
belonged to God, and felt the need to meet other’s needs with it. A far cry
from Communism of today, which always fails. Jesus taught individual
responsibility, and choice, not the state and dictated morals and provisions.
It comes from God, not he government. And so we see the freedom to do with what
we have exhibited here, some under the spirit, some still under their own self.
Acts 5 tells of Ananias and Sapphira, who were part of the church. Seeing what
went on, they pledged the proceeds from a land sale to the church, but then
decided to keep some for themselves. And both ended up being confronted with
the truth, and dropping dead. It was their money to keep or give away, but
being in one accord, not a Honda or the spirit, they lied to God, and people,
trying to make a name for themselves. But God sees, just like we see those who
ride, and those that buy a motorcycle. Posers are nothing new, in the biker
world or church.
And even today some minister in their name, instead of the Holy Spirit,
looking to gain acceptance and praise for themselves. The spirit of Ananias and
Sapphira still at work, and others see it. And don’t wish to have them around.
Today I still encounter them, carrying Bibles, shouting on corners, and passing
out tracts. “Look what we are doing for God,” they say. “Why aren’t you more
like us?” as they quote scripture and wave their Bibles. Yet Jesus in the end,
reminds them “to be gone, I never knew you.” They were only interested in photo
ops, getting their name in the paper, being recognized in church, and being held
in high esteem. And we all go through it, but I find I get more done just
sitting in the back, and letting God call the shots. When He gets the glory, I
get the blessings. So to you Ananias types, don’t waste your time waving your
Bible, or quoting scripture, show me the love Jesus did, and does. Feed me when
I’m hungry, sorry my shirt isn’t clean. When I’m thirsty give me drink, I might
spill a bit, my manners aren’t the best. Visit me in jail, you might see a
better class of people, and when sick, cards and flowers are nice, save them for
my funeral. Your face is what I rather see-so visit. And when you don’t me,
because my leathers aren’t clean, my bike isn’t new, and my jeans stained,
introduce yourself. Just like Jesus, for we were all strangers once, and He
welcomed us. And He was one strange dude, loving those who hated Him, and dying
for them on the cross.
Be yourself in Christ, the easiest and the hardest thing you will ever do.
But only in Him will you be able to be yourself. To be like minded in His
spirit, not by your clothes, income, brand of bike, or denomination. A
commoness that only comes from within via the spirit of a living God. And for
those of us who do, true freedom that others only talk about. The freedom to
ride with those who can’t keep up with us, but wait for them at the end. To
show them new roads, engage in new conversation, and introduce them to Jesus.
All without stepping into a church building, but taking the church, you and me
to them. When we agree with Jesus we have everything, when we don’t we lose
what we think we have. People are not as stupid as you think, but still we get
fooled. Aren’t you glad you serve a loving God, who is never fooled? And loves
you when you are a fool? One in the spirit, one heart and one mind. It only
works when Jesus is the heart of it-all others are living on borrowed time.
When Jesus gets the glory, we get the blessings. Don’t settle for anything
less. Lest you be carried out like Ananias and Sapphira. Years later Three Dog
Night reminded us “one is the loneliest number,” unless that one is Jesus. The
first church is still alive, are you in it?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com