It has been sad, and rightly so, that the first auto race occurred when two
cars pulled up to a stop together, the driver’s eyes met, and the race was on.
Who was fastest, quickest, and who would get there first, wherever there
happened to be. How many times have you watched American Graffiti, knowing how
the race will end, but still excited. It is the short races, the drag races,
that start in a millisecond and are over seconds later that we remember, where
fastest doesn’t mean quickest, and the hole shot is everything. I have a friend
Richard who used to drag race Kawasakis back in the seventies, and has an AMA
plaque showing his 0.0 reaction time. No over reaction, right on schedule,
perfect. How many times have you come up to a light and the guy next to you
revs his engine, trying to impress or intimidate you? And what do you do with
the challenge....losers always have excuses. Now I am no drag racer, and my
reaction times can be measured in days not tenths of a second, but sometimes you
just need to protect yourself, your ego, and your image. And some races are
over before they begin....
I had just picked up a Rocket 3 that Mickey had put a Carpenter head on,
producing 220 rear wheel horsepower on the dyno. The redline going from 6500 to
9000, big and scary fast. Loud like a NASCAR racer on the street, and just as
menacing. I had driven less than a mile, when Mr. Loud Pipes Save Lives pulled
up next to me at the light. Revving his engine, proving his testosterone to be
more than any mortal man, he looked me over, “let’s race!” Until I revved up
the Rocket, and the race was over. It was loud, scary loud, and anything that
made a noise like that had to be fast. And as the light turned green, he putt
putted away, race over, I had shut him down before I even left the line. Later
riding down the 22 I wondered why everyone was driving so slow in light traffic,
and looked down and saw 120 on the speedo. Later I would cruise at 125@8000 rpm, in third gear, this was stupid fast as
someone would later hang a sign on. I later found out its sister bike went 8.99@155 mph in the quarter. And for the week I had
it, I knew that anything that challenged me I could beat. Bring on the
challengers, let’s race. If only in my mind...and for one brief shining moment
I was fast, and a champion, never having to prove it.
Blame it all on Jungle Jim Liberman, and his Funny Car at Raceway Park. In
the early seventies Wednesday night meant drag racing there, and the funny cars
were new and exciting. And Jungle Jim was the man to beat. Against such foes
as Dyno Don Nicholson, Fearless Fred Goeske, Don”the Snake” Prudhomme, and
Connie Kalitta, he was the fastest. And everyone loved him. And his pit crew,
Jungle Pam, she of hot pants, halter tops, and tall boots. It was a show, and
at show time Jungle Jim delivered. Sitting at Row E, the starting line, we went
home deaf from the noise, and smelling of rubber and bleach from the burnouts.
The Pinto we drove in was our race car on the way home, and every light a chance
to prove how fast we weren’t, I was no Jungle Jim, and the Pinto was no funny
car, although it was the butt of jokes. And over the years I have had friends
with fast cars, Jay and his 1969 SS396, Por Favor had a red one, Vinny with his
1969 Boss 302, O’Grady with a 1967 Chevelle four door sedan,with a hot engine in
it, stolen from a professional race team, it always idled funny, and no one ever
wanted a return race with it. And at the local Mickey D’s,where they all hung
out, they ruled, until we pulled in with our motorcycles, and suddenly they were
fast, but not the fastest. Never a race to prove it, but the fact was well
known among guys who like to go fast. It seemed we all worshipped at the altar
of speed, just in different cars and motorcycles, but speed, going fast quickly
was still our god, and many gave their life in it. Never knowing the true God,
the one who created and loved them.
Today we have divided into many denominations, each choosing to worship God
their way, thinking it the best. They have established rules and classes, and
how to worship God. But often fall short, forgetting about the person, and
emphasizing on the denomination. But like in drag racing, you are on your own,
and the relationship between you and God comes down to you and God. But when
led by the spirit you can escape the rules, still live within them, but in
freedom. We forget sometimes that it is all about Jesus, not our church, the
programs, the pastor, his books, or the TV show. We have become desensitized,
and fall into a rut, thinking this is all there is. And then we find we can go
deeper, faster and quicker in Christ than we ever thought, and soon we leave the
pack behind. Jesus has made it personal, and our reaction times change. We see
things his way, and soon find ourselves closer to him, and exhibiting the things
of Christ. We see his character in us via his fruits, the love and joy, along
with peace and patience. We don’t have to be the first or fastest, and when we
follow the spirit have wisdom we never knew was there. We see things clearly,
clearer than before, for now we see things through God’s eyes, who see
everything. And when the competition comes via temptation or a trial, we know
we have all the power we need, and in meekness can apply it. No burnouts, but
power fully under control, burnouts look cool, but when your wheels are spinning
the power is not getting to the ground. But when that perfect power gains
contact, we then go forward, in control. That is meekness, and just like a
wheelie looks cool, you need both wheels on the ground to handle correctly.
Don’t let your show be more than your go.
That morning at the light, Mr. Loud Pipes kept revving his motor, real
racers don’t, they know a launch rpm and maintain it. What happens if while
revving your engine you back off and the flag drops? You stall. That morning I
opened it up full and held it there. Only a few seconds, but the message was
sent. And the response appropriate...
How we respond to the power of God will show in the power of our love he
gives to us. When his love agape shows through us, that love that puts all
above us, who makes their concerns more important than ours, when we can act
with the other persons best interest in mind, then we see that kind of love in
action. But it must be and can only be spirit based, as we can never love that
way on our own. We may rev our engines louder, louder than anyone else, but
when the flag drops and we need to show that love, we need Jesus. And that
supernatural love is available from God, it is not difficult, all you need to do
is become aware of it, and call on him. Trust him. Follow him. And when you
begin to see how much he loves you, you will begin to love others as he has
loved and forgiven you.
Meekness is nothing more than power under control, not losing traction,
knowing the friction zone, and employing it. It works in racing, and it works
in love too. Your actions may be important, but never as important as your
reactions. React in love, never lose traction in the spirit, and live in
meekness. No substitute for cubic inches other than love, no replacement for
displacement other than Jesus. We run the race to win, to gain the prize, but
first you must finish, what is your reaction to that? Better yet, who?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com