It must have been a big step for my Dad, a Rambler man, to buy a second
car. A succession of a 1962 Rambler American station wagon, that non-descript
green, a 1964 American sedan, the same green, and finally a Classic 770, a
pretty neat car by Rambler standards filled the garage. Raising a family on a
teacher’s salary, he was always conservative in his spending, so it amazed us
when he came home with a second car one day, a used 1963 VW Beetle. It was
blue, surprise, and had a sunroof, so it was not the base models he was used to
buying. That was high end for VW. It was in very good shape, with the tires
and floor mats painted with the rubber covering used cars were detailed with
before Armor all. His commute was three miles each way, and it sometimes would
take longer to warm up on cold New Jersey mornings than the ride to school.
Today’s climate control systems, aka heaters and a/c are a far cry from the
engine heater run through pipes under the floor. A knob on the floor opened
them up, and to defrost the windshield you closed the floor vents. No fans, it
took forever to heat or defrost, fortunately he had a short commute. At the
time he played golf, and since it had no trunk to speak of, he removed the rear
seat back so his clubs would fit. Which made it interesting when he would pick
my friends and I up at the movies. Kids today would have a fit with no seat
belts, or seat back, to my Dad it was just part of a basic car being used as
necessary.
But a big day was when he would actually open the sunroof. Fresh air, old
VW’s smelled like old VW’s even when new, the jute padding used in the seats was
a German trademark, sit in any Mercedes Benz from the seventies? That’s the
smell. Lovely after years of humidity. Smelled like a wet dog. And with the
radio permanently set at 910 AM, WOR, talk radio before talk radio became an
epidemic, I had hours of listening to John Gambling in 10 minute bursts. And
when picked up after 10 PM from parties, could get enough Jean Shepherd to want
more. He of “A Christmas Story” fame, we all had heard him long before the
movie became a Christmas staple. But the high light, or low light, came one day
as we were riding to school. A typical Jersey winter day with more snow than
road, which made people speed up rather than slow down. We were creeping along,
slow even for my Dad, when we got hit from behind by a young girl. The VW
damaged, the bumper really did bump and did little body damage, and all was
well. Information exchanged, no police called, long before cellphones dotted
the highways, and we went to school. With a story to tell of why I was late,
and what had happened. Which later would be contradicted by the girl who hit
us. She claimed I was driving, and that was why she hit us. One it is hard tor
drive from the passenger seat, even harder when you are 13 and cannot drive a
clutch. Our insurance company finally settled it, she was at blame, the car was
fixed, and its life of never going over 40 mph continued. All repairs under
$100 I was told, and fixed in a day. Simple and quick, just like my Dad
wanted.
Like I had mentioned, my Dad was a fiscal conservative, as kids we called
him cheap. Sunoco at the time had come out with a 190 grade, a step below its
200 regular, and a far cry from Sunoco 260, racing gas at the pump. The VW was
a regular customer, no pun intended, and for $1.50 the tank was filled, the
attendant lifting the hood, or was it trunk, anyway it was in front of the car,
and filing it. One day when I was with him, across from us was a new 1968
Corvette, the new Mako Shark looking ones. And I couldn’t help myself, but to
get out and look at it. It was beautiful, and it was getting filled with Sunoco
260 at 32 cents a gallon! Which my Father saw rather than the car it was
filling, and telling me “how can anyone afford to fill their car at 32 cents a
gallon?” Sunoco 190 was 23.9 at the time. One ride would have convinced me it
was worth it, a value, or lack of value my father would never see. Cars were a
tool, and later he would trade his VW against a new 1969 BMW 1600, the car that
put BMW on the map in the US of A. A great sports sedan, that he never would
use as adviced, a friend had shown him an article in Road & Track,it was one
of the 10 Best Cars in the World, and he thought it would last him forever.
Which is another story....
But suffice it to say, my Dad was never a car guy. And his buying habits
were proof of it. He would joke that “his cars weren’t cars, they were
Ramblers,” and I would wince. But that was my Dad, and he took very good care
of us, despite his poor taste in cars. Basic and to the point, he was like my
relationship with God. The gospel of Jesus Christ is good news. We have
forgiveness in him, and he is the way to his Father in heaven. Our Father. The
beauty of the gospel is that it is truth, and simple. So guys like me can get
it. We study to be approved, not saved. And it is available to anyone and
everybody, no matter which Sunoco you put into your car. For it is free, so we
all can afford it, a gift that you cannot earn, lest you should boast. It is
all about Jesus, and without Jesus, Christianity is insanity. Every promise of
God is fulfilled in him, and all are welcomed. No other religion offers
forgiveness, and for free. Only Jesus does. He paid the price, so we don’t,
because we never could. Mosaic law only showed our weaknesses, and our half
hearted sacrifices showed our true hearts. Only in Jesus will you find all you
ever need. Sort of like my Dad’s VW. Everything you need, nothing you don’t.
Unobtrusive, not demanding its own way, and easy to own. Yet many try to
customize their God, making him appear better,when really trying to make
themselves look better. “Look what I did for God,” they rant and rave. Jesus
addressing the church once told them “do not rejoice because you have dominion
over devils, rejoice because your name is written in the Book of Life.” And he
tells them “I never knew you.” WOW! It really is all about Jesus! And if you
still want to argue, let’s find a cross, and nail you too it. Three nine inch
nails, through your hands and feet. Your beard pulled out, a crown of thorns
pushed into your head. After being beat 39 times, and hanging there for 6
hours. While the world passes you by, mocking you, naked and ashamed. Suddenly
simple is the best way, and Jesus is the way....
So maybe my Dad’s VW told us a lot about him. The bikes we ride and cars
we drive tell those around us a lot about us. But how we live will also tell
them a lot about Jesus in our lives. Whether at the gas pump, on the way to
school, or going about our business, someone is noticing, like the Corvette was
being watched that day. And someone will comment on our actions, and wonder
“how can he afford to be a Christian?” How can you afford to not be? The truth
will set you free, just like it did when the girl tried to lie about the
accident. The fact of Jesus will win out. And why buy a used God, when you can
have a fresh and exciting one? Who meets all your needs, at the pump and
everywhere else? Or an economy God, who doesn’t have the octane of our God?
Only Jesus saves, and it has been said that at today’s prices, that’s a
bargain. And who can pass up a bargain? My Dad never could, and he finally was
saved later in life. He asked me once “why did I wait so long?” Why are you?
My Father operated on a limited budget. No budgets in heaven, get from God
all the blessings he wants to give, become a child of God today. Every time I
hear the Allman Brothers sing “Lord I was born a Ramblin’ man,” I think of my
Dad, a Rambler man. And the VW that rescued him. And of a loving God who
rescues us. “When it comes to leavin’, I hope you’ll understand....” I do. Do
you?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com