I met Sam at a Cycle World motorcycle show years ago.  He was standing by 
himself, studying the new Honda chopper style bike.  It was when the Metric guys 
were trying to catch on and each one had a Harley style cruiser, Honda going the 
next step, as only Honda used to be able to do.  He was wearing his Hessian 
colors, and nodded at me when I stopped to look.  “You know, if you had one of 
those you could be a real biker too,” I replied, and he laughed.  He had seen 
more miles than most groups of new Harley riders, his limp when walking away a 
dead give away, but as we talked about motorcycles and how they had changed, we 
both came to the same conclusion, we had the same disease, and it was called 
motorcycles.  He loved his Harley, was interested in Triumph as he had ridden 
them before, but never caught onto the “you meet the nicest people on a Honda,” 
line, but still had friends who rode them.  We both kept studying the Honda 
while we talked, and when he had seen enough, shook my hand, said it was good 
talking with me, wished me a good day and to ride safe.  As I watched him limp 
away, I knew we both suffered from the same disease, terminal but not life 
threatening, and even though motorcycles had changed, and are still changing, 
motorcycling had changed us too.  In ways we never imagined...
My friend Glen was a newcomer to motorcycles, the poster boy for the new 
lifestyle riders.  He thought there were only two brands of motorcycles, Harley 
and Davidson, and made fun of my sport bikes, as if we didn’t have the talent to 
drive an old tractor.  One day in the garage, he asked if he could ride my 
Sprint RS, wanted to see if it was as powerful as his Harley.  So we went up the 
freeway, me chasing him on his Harley, when we saw a bike stopped on the 
shoulder.  Pulling up, the guy wearing Vago colors waved Glen on, but when I 
pulled up, he talked with me, told me he was waiting for a truck to come fetch 
him, and thanked me for stopping.  If only he knew how I made fun of Harleys, 
and the guy he waved on was riding my bike and I was riding his.  I think Sam 
would have laughed at that one.  
Stopping by the local Harley store that now sells Indians, I noticed Spud 
was gone.  Funny how every time I pulled up on a Triumph, all the old guys would 
come over and tell of the one they used to have, and Spud was one of them.  
Really one of us, as even if I had a Daytona, or Speed Triple, he was 
interested.  He would ask questions, as he had read about them, and would tell 
me if younger, would like to ride one.  But he was always glad to see me and 
talk motorcycles, again that common disease called motorcycling.  The new GM 
there told me any bike I want to test ride just let him know.  He knows my 
Triumphs and likes the new Bonnevilles.  Even though he sells Harleys and 
Indians. But took me back in the shop, past the no customers allowed sign to 
show me his Yamaha FZ09, and a BMW 1600 tourer he just bought.   Telling me 
intimate details about riding both of them.  He rides...and sells.  A terminal 
case if I ever saw one....
After being told by a major motorcycle ministry I wasn’t wanted any more, I 
had chosen God over their rules and regulations, almost cultic, I found I could 
do more ministering when not advertising myself as a Christian and acting like 
one.   Just like the guy who wears his Jesus shirt and cannot figure out why he 
always sits alone on the bus, I have this terminal case of Christianity based on 
Jesus Christ.  But I choose not to advertise, but to live my ride with him.  The 
root word for religion means binding, and whether worshipping God or 
motorcycles, if you live by the rules imposed, you lose you freedom.  Jesus 
understood this, the Pharisees never did, and although they bragged on 
themselves, I wonder how lonely they really were.  How unhappy, insecure, and 
miserable they were, having to constantly obey all the laws, for if they broke 
one they had broken them all, and who knew who was watching and was there to 
remind them.  So I feel sorry for them, but keep in mind it was their choice.  
No one forced them, and in the law they were terminally ill spiritually.  No 
wonder they hated Jesus, he represented freedom, something not in their 
vocabulary,  They were so close to him, yet so far away.  
Which is why I tend to avoid many Christians, who want to save me.  My long 
hair and beard, my motorcycle and lifestyle may not portray their religion, but 
my freedom in Christ portrays who he is.  I can go and ride anywhere and any 
brand I want.  I can sit with Pentecostals, Catholics, Jews, and even 
fundamental Christians, and be free.  But within the context of their religion, 
my freedom scares them.  For what if they were truly free in Christ, and had to 
make a decision based on Jesus as opposed to denominational boundaries?  What if 
they became unpopular, a lot of what ifs.  But true freedom is found in the 
spirit, and in the spirit, these prideful worries don’t exist.  I have placed my 
confidence is Christ Jesus, and found his crowd of one to be superior.  Jesus 
never followed the crowd, if you notice the crowd followed him.  Jesus was never 
brand specific, all sinners were welcome.  No matter the offense.
Today may be the day you break free from religion and find victory in 
Jesus.  Where you find the truth truly sets you free, and you can have a  more 
abundant life in him.  Where you are, whoever you are, he offers his forgiveness 
from sin, and welcomes you as family.  Calls you friend, and loves you as you 
are, but doesn’t want to leave you that way.  Abundant life is one prayer 
away....
Or you could be like the loud pipes save lives biker who pulled up next to 
me.  I was less than a mile from the shop on a Rocket 3, with a Carpenter head, 
dynoing at 220 hp, and 189 lb. ft of torque.  He revved his engine wanting to 
show his superiority, so I did answered back.  With the sound of a NASCAR motor 
coming from the Rocket.  He just stared ahead, avoiding any eye contact, and 
putt putted away when the light turned green.  You see if you cannot be fast, 
you can always be loud.  But you cannot always be free.  I’m sure his version is 
different....so choose freedom today.  From motorcycles to food to where and how 
you worship him, Jesus lets you decide.  You make the choice, does your church 
or denomination offer you that?  Does your dealer?  Just think, if you had Jesus 
Christ in your life, you could be a real Christian too......
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com

















