Over the years I have ridden with many different people. Some I never knew
their name, but can remember what they were riding, and the road we were on that
day, others I can see their face, but cannot remember anything else about them.
It’s funny how when I meet someone, and we look familiar to each other, I ask
them either “where do you go to church, or what do you ride?” It is never if
you go, or if you ride, it is where and what. Cruising over to see Tyson, my
friend the GM at the local Triumph store, I met up with a young guy at a light,
who loved the Bonneville I was on. I cannot remember his name, because we never
got that far, or his face inside his helmet, but I remember his Honda 919, that
he said he loved. Just another encounter, how many have you had that seem
meaningless at the time, but you cannot forget? Another young guy, Nate who
sells at a multi line store, reminded me of me when we met. He is young, and
wants to ride with me, if he can keep up, he said. He has more years ahead of
him than me, but I have more miles, somewhere in between we’ll meet. It also
allows me to look back to when I started riding, and how it was all new and
exciting. Still is. But the men I met then seemed so much older, tougher, and
hardened by the rides. Until the electric kick starter came along, these men
had to kick everything, and some walked with a limp, from not finding TDC and
the bike kicking them back. I can still remember bruises from my encounters...I
can remember how we would meet Friday nights in Bouke’s garage, and tune our
bikes for the next day. They didn’t need it, but when not riding, we could
bench race while spending time with our bikes. How many do that today? But we
did....and again faces fade, but I can remember the bikes. No last names when
introduced, just Mike or Bill, Slow Eddie, Gino, Biker Tony, BH, The Wild Man,
or well, you get it. Just by being there you were friends, and with bikes in
common, you always had something to talk about. Into the wee hours of the
morning, and even though we got very little sleep, we rarely waited the next
morning, no one was late more than once. Being left behind and missing out on
the stories of the ride next Friday night was just too much to bear.
We never called them group rides, sometimes 3 or 4, sometimes as many as
10. No rules, no pre-ride meeting, we rode. We knew and respected each other,
even if we rode different brands. Or had different lifestyles. It was expected
you knew how to ride, and no one complained of someone going to fast, but you
would hear about those going too slow in the corners. Leaders changed
positions, we all fueled up before we met, and when someone needed gas, he went
ahead, pointed to his tank, and we knew to stop. Very few destinations were
planned, suggestions came from guys who had just taken a new road, or found a
new place to eat with pretty waitresses. We would stop at Harley stores, Honda
shops, Kawasaki shops in old garages, and peel off as we each had a different
schedule later. We would just wave, no long good byes, and meet again next
Friday. No phone calls or invites, no one needed to be reminded, and we all
looked forward to it. And after a long week of work, bosses, rules and
regulations, we rode in total freedom. Our Friday night bench racing sessions
and Saturday rides were more than a ride, but less than a race. They were
special...and the words to fully describe them escape me.
I don’t do group rides any more, I call them crowd rides. Road captains,
pre-ride meetings, always someone who forgot to get gas, or slept in to wait
for. Too many times only riding as fast as some newbie, or following someone so
righteous they never speed, but find joy in having traffic back up behind them.
No bench racing, as many do nothing more than put gas in their bikes, and email
or Instagram their news during the week. No fiddling with setting the idle,
checking tire pressures, or checking the oil. They ride, but have no
relationship with what they ride, and barely have one with who they ride with.
Maybe that is why I don’t do them, but ride alone. Or with a certain few, who
ride like I, Or we used too. And still do. No reminders of the time or place,
or to get fuel, a mutual respect is their, never spoken, but shown to whoever
cares to look. Or who doesn’t. A brotherhood, that today is missing,
substituted by clubs, colors, rules, meetings, and crowd rides. Maybe I am
showing my age, but also my brotherhood.
Being a Christian is more than ride, and less than a race. It is personal,
and too many don’t want it to be. I find my private time with God to be
valuable, I can listen better without a crowd, or someone telling me how to live
or worship. I find the freedom in riding a great precursor for a relationship
in the spirit, with a lot less explanations. Today so many have the education,
Bible study note taking junkies, and their social schedule revolving around
church events. But very few get out and apply what they know. We bench race on
Friday nights, then got out and live it the next morning. Today so many lack
the application of their education, and seek more of God by more reading. More
teachings. More church. More prayer. Not bad things, but it like sitting on
the new bike in the show room, if you never ride it, you’ll never know what it
can do. Works with God too, if you never get out of the four walls of the
church, you will never see all that Jesus can do in your life. You will never
get to meet fellow brothers who go to a different church, and get their
insight. You become religious by just listening to your pastor, your way of
worship, your way to pray. You miss encounters like I have, meeting fellow
riders in parking lots, stop lights, or in showrooms. You miss the fellowship
you think you have by not getting out. Your walk has become less than a ride,
and little more than walk, maybe even a crawl. I know too many men who are
strong at church, but weak outside it. They neglect to walk with the spirit,
having to meet in groups. They don’t share, they only invite others to church,
where the pastor will tell them about Jesus. Their walk never gets out of the
box.
I try to be the same person in church as I am everywhere else. If I need
to apologize, maybe it is you that has the problem. I have met and made many
friends that I may never see again by being out in the world, just not of it.
Just like Jesus tells us, the great commission, as you go, share the gospel.
Jesus never invited anyone to church, he took the gospel to them. He spent his
life on the road. Is it possible my pre-Christian riding was a great influence
for taking Jesus out to the world?
Next Sunday you will meet in church, and sit in the same spot, with the
same people. With a service following the same procedures, you always know what
is next, and a quick check of your watch tells you when it will end. Please
explain the freedom in that? Where is the holy spirit? The spontaneity of
seeing God at work, instead of choreographed? Are you among the first to leave
so you can get to the store, and wait impatiently in line there? Is that all
you get out of church, getting out? May I suggest a different way. Listen to
the spirit. And let him guide you. Be bold enough to sit in a different area,
meet new people. Pray for them, maybe invite them to coffee after. They may be
waiting for an invite and you may be it. Bench race about Jesus after church,
and find it will become part of you outside of church. The spirit is always
with us, you are never alone. But sharing Jesus makes it special. More special
outside of the church. Are you listening?
So if you ask me to go for a ride, be warned, I have only one rule, ride
your own ride. And the same applies to Jesus. Ride your own ride, get to know
him, and quit being so religious. You will find that the application of what
you learned in church is more fun than hearing about it. You can live it, and
see others live it too. Meeting together with a group of believers is fun, but
living the life one on one with Jesus is where it is at. Many times I have been
able to share Jesus in non-Christian groups, without preaching. They get to
know God through me, not a church experience. A sign hanging in my house simply
reads, “live life in such a way that those who don’t know God, will come to know
God because they know you.” May I add riding, too. Over the years we have gone
to church with many people...how many do you remember?
love with compassion,
Mike matthew25biker.blogspot.com