Mena, food, love and other four letter words

I first met Fr. Al's sister Mena on 9-11-2006. It was my first time to the Chapel, but not the first to Shanksville. God had put some special things on my heart, but in His own way, only let me know some of them. Like in Scrabble, He gave me the letters, the words would come. But He had also prepared me long before we went.

It was the 2006 Torches Across America ride, and we were planning on being in Shanksville for 9-11 this year. Fr. Al and I had been corresponding by e-mail about the day's events, when God put on my heart to ask about food. Shanksville has no places to eat, the Chapel is even farther from Somerset, and the Impact Site another 4 miles. They had some basic food available at the chapel for donation, but not what they wanted. So God placed on my heart to send money, and with help from a few other CMA chapters, we sent him a check-not big to us, but overwhelming when you have nothing. And so food would be available. Two loaves and five fish in today's terms. On to Shanksville.

Per custom, it rained, and after I spoke, and we had the bell ringing ceremony, I went down to the tents where the food was. There were hot dogs, donuts, hulaska, and sausage, onions, and pepper sandwiches-Mena's. As I stood in line, I heard the women talking about some Christian bikers who had provided money for food-they were blown away how someone they had never met, over 3000 miles away would do this, but of course this was another miracle of the Chapel. As I stood there, I didn't want to call attention to myself, this was God's plan, I just obeyed Him, but I wanted them to have a face for what was done, so I identified myself. And the tears started to flow. They were so glad to meet me, and soon I had introduced others to them. One of them Shirley, would be very special to Theresa.

It took hours until the families from Flight 93 arrived from the impact site, along with them the employees of UAL from Newark-friends of the heroes. And they were starved, and were able to eat! Mena's sausage and peppers! Over 500 ate that day based on the simple gift God told us to give. With some left over, sound like a Bible story? Soon the word spread because the servers shared about our gift, and we were able to show them love among the hugs and kisses. Some stewardesses even were in tears that anyone would care about them, our cheeks were wet with the tears of joy. One man, Leroy Homer's brother in law came up, Nattily attired, he looked like Neon Deion, he embraced us in tears, the love had touched him too. Maybe there was more to the loaves and fishes that day with Jesus, just like there was for us. Such appreciation, for such a simple gift of love via obedience. Leave it to God to bless many with very little. And to me, the sausage and peppers would always remind me of that special time.

Remember Shirley, the lady special to Theresa? Seems her son had been killed in a car accident, and was buried across from the chapel. As she and Theresa talked, Shirley said he had died on August 20th, my son's birthday. And she took her over to the grave, and got to minister with her, I will never forget the sight of them praying together at his headstone. And I was so glad I introduced myself when in line getting food. All credit and glory be to God.

Two weeks ago Mena made her last trip to the Chapel. Her body full of cancer and in pain, she wanted one last trip to the chapel to make her sausage and peppers. Her last act of love for the heroes, on the tenth anniversary of their heroism. Her two sons did most of the cooking, and when they were done, she wanted to go home. She knew God had kept her alive for this one last trip, and now He was calling her home. His house. Heaven was closer the day she died than her home on earth, and God told her "come, let's go to mine. No more cancer, no more pain. Your job is complete here. It's time to rest." And she knew, and that was why she wanted to go home, God was calling. Mena then knew her job was done. She was at Shanksville as a surprise to her brother, and against the doctor's advice. But not God's calling. And the next week she passed into eternity-home at last!

I was the last e-mail Fr. Al sent before he took off for Downingtown to have her funeral. He said Mena was appreciative of all the love, support, and prayers. So thanks to all who prayed. You will see her in heaven.

So after a short period of grief, I wanted to do something to support my friend and to honor her. I went out and had a sausage and pepper sandwich. Not as good as hers, and it took longer to eat through the tears. It seems it had a salty taste to it. Strange, I thought. But then I realized it was laced with tears. Mine. Tears of sadness for my friend. And how hers was laced with love. That was the difference. As in life, as in cooking, Jesus' love still makes a difference. The one ingredient only He can add to any food, occasion, or relationship. Love.

"Just another sandwich," you ask. And I suppose your God is just another God. Make sure it is a special relationship based on Jesus. For just like Mena's sandwiches, He fills them with love. And just like life, He makes it worth the living-just because He lives!

Another Chapel miracle, and another reason to visit there-soon. I can smell the peppers already. Tell Fr. Al "Mena's friend Mike sent ya."

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

manna-what is it?

I like to eat. One glance will confirm that. But I have specific tastes, and will eat just about anything if it tastes good. So I like the idea of man sized portions. On platters. Food that fills the platter. I actually get embarrassed for these so-called gourmet restaurants that serve you a bite sized morsel, with some stringy veggies, some dressing sprinkled around it, and a flower. And over charge you like they are doing you a favor. How unmanly? What kind of real man would actually sit down and eat a half a sissy meal like this? One time-we all make mistakes, aren't you glad God forgives? I've had appetizers that were more filling-and then the main event. Portions count-as in big. Food should taste like food. Lumps OK in mashies. Butter on those green beans. Extra gravy on the side. Sizzle that steak. Enough to get filled, so much that you skip desert. Ride a few miles, then hit the Coldstones. So here are a few places where portions count, the food is good, service good, and the meal is an event.

For breakfast you can't beat the Original Pantry. Downtown LA on 9th and Figueroa, free parking for motorcycles. Sounds good already. My standard there is bacon-6 crispy, thick pieces, eggs, and buckwheat pancakes. With potatoes. Which takes three plates to serve you. BIG pancakes, three 11" manhole covers, not those sissy sized ones at IHOP, and real potatoes from the grill, there again not the frozen ones like chains serve. All in an atmosphere where when you can sit at the counter, maybe next to a bum, a lawyer, or a businessman-who are all harder to tell apart these days. CASH only, but they do have an ATM. And you may have to stand in line, and they are open 24 hours-they have never closed since 1924, the legend is there are no keys to the door. Breakfast all the time! Bring your appetite, you are gonna love those buckwheats!

For a good sandwich you must leave California. And go back east. The left coasters just don't get it-you must put stuff between the bread. Lots of it. And for me, it is Primonti Bros. in Pittsburgh. Now a chain, for the real experience you must go downtown to the original in the Strip District. Following the directions on their web page, they actually take you down an alley-follow them if you want to park. In an old neighborhood, where at first you wonder how safe you are, going inside all is forgiven. And although the list of sandwiches is long, I favor the cheese steak, there all-time #2 best seller-no indication of what #1 is. And they are all served the same. Thick cut, hand sliced Italian bread. Then the meat. Then a handful of hand cut French fries, then finally a handful of Italian slaw-the kind with vinegar instead of mayo. Cut in half, open wide and let the games begin. After Primonti Bros., anything is just a meal. Here it is an event! No sissy designer food here. Just mention them to anyone in the Pittsburg area, and they'll agree. Hint-for your own safety do not mention the Chargers. There are the Steelers, and the rest are others. Just like any other sandwich you will ever have.

For dinner, let's go to El Cholo. Since 1923 serving the best Mexican food in So Cal. New Mexican food is its own category. Great service, large portions, and a festive atmosphere, you will wonder how do they get all that flavor from the food? Fajitas as they should be, although lately I have been gorging on the chicken chimichangas. If you think Alberto's is Mexican food, stay away. Mexican Alpo. You won't get it. This is the way the old Mamacitas cooked it, and still do. Only an hour to Irvine from home, we also eat at the one in Pasadena. And recently found the one on Figueroa just down the street from the Pantry. Great way to get in a ride and a good meal, along with friends. WARNING-do not attempt to eat at both on the same day. Death from food overload could occur. Besides it may take all day to recover from breakfast. Spread out the joy of eating over a few trips. Almost makes the traffic bearable. Lane splitting advised.

Seems we have come a long way from manna. Food that God provided every morning-except Saturdays, so they could observe the Sabbath, and it was fresh and tasted sweet. But the Israelites got tired of it, and soon desired to go back into captivity in Egypt, where at least the food was good. And ended up wandering in the wilderness for 40 years-while God still fed them and listened to their complaining. He then reminded them that man does live by bread alone, but truly lives by obeying the words from God-true manna. A truth that still exists today. So why don't you trust God? As a people we are well fed, for a reminder read above. God has given in abundance, and even sent His son, Jesus to die for our sins. So why don't you trust God? Where do I start?

Ever notice how the food tastes better after asking God's blessing? Good place to start. And soon you find other reasons to thank Him for-because you are looking for reasons to. So don't grumble like the Israelites did-captivity is not where it is at. Choose God. Let Him lead. Let Him forgive. And get out and tell others. While at lunch, or between bites of buckwheats. Sit at the counter and visit, not preach. Spread the gospel through good food, and learn also why Jesus liked to fellowship with others-both believers and non, while eating. So pass the salt with a smile, pass the syrup to the man next to you, offer to move down a seat so both guys can sit together at the counter, and start a conversation by being nice. Good food has a habit of making good friends. Be nice, kindness the Bible calls it, the fruit of the spirit. Now that's being a witness!

And leave a big tip. Be known for your graciousness. Jesus is. Sharing Jesus never tasted so good. And feel safe in knowing that man doesn't live by bread alone-it needs something between the pieces to make it a sandwich. Grace-it adds flavor to any meal-and to every life.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

---

---

strait, not straight

We learned that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line in Mrs. Parks seventh grade math class. And for years as a motorcycle rider, I had trouble with the scripture of Matthew 7:13-14, for much of my riding, although between two points, is not always the shortest distance. I can turn a 20 mile commute into a 45 mile back road journey. I love curves, isn't that why God created motorcycles? But Jesus talks about the straight and narrow, and to be careful not to stray. Good advice on any road, including the road of life, riding or not. So I would skip over it when reading, as if it were personally meant for me to not enjoy curves. Sort of an old wife's tale I made up, or an urban legend no one cared about but me. Superstitious-maybe. And although Jesus said it, which makes it true, I used my own select theology when I came to these two verses.

While studying one day, I read a commentary that the word was originally strait, not straight as we use the word today. Both have similar meaning, but in the King James of the 1600's, this was the word used. It meant a tight fit, or a path that may be hard to navigate due to its size, or confining, hence it is a "strait" jacket, not a "straight" jacket. And as you can see, both meanings can be applicable here, but I tend to lean on strait, allowing my mind and conscience to be free when I ride roads like the Snake. Or any road that allows me to use all the tread on the tires.

Now Jesus knew a few things about roads, he spent most of His time on the road. He had no home, so He was a true traveler. And I notice today, that many of the Christians I admire for their ministry and walk with Christ do so outside of the four church walls. Not to say pastors are not important, or don't do God's work, but the pastors I know who venture outside of the pulpit, via writing, visiting, teaching and following Christ's example, find an additional freedom in the spirit-doing what Jesus did, and advised. And as an example to their flocks-and this is their true witness. And also an encouragement for us to get out among the lost.

Sadly some only get out within their own denomination via seminars or conferences, not seeing how God is working in others. Keeping within a party line-staying safe within the lines. This is where they may become strait and narrow-confined and legalistic. But Christians who operate in the spirit go anywhere God leads them. Which is why we see Mother Theresa in hospitals in India, when she could go on a book tour. Or Franklin Graham with Samaritan's Purse, who could rest on his dad's reputation. I see our Pastor Ray out among the people, when he could easily defend staying home because his flock is so big. It takes courage to walk the strait road, and you need Jesus to guide you.

God explained to me once the reason that the path and gate are straight and narrow is that the straightest way to Him is direct-a straight line. Narrow, so you cannot do it without Him. Straight, so that nothing gets between you and Him-the shortest distance. Only God wants no interference in His relationship with you. But it can also be strait and narrow-confining and rough, like some roads I travel on. And you need Him even more. Stay in the spirit, avoid legalism. Make it personal. And there again, Jesus is with you. Helping you navigate, so that you see that the only way is Him. One way with Jesus the old bumper stickers say, and it is still true today.

Those who walk with God do not avoid the company of other people. In fact they look for others to share the gospel and love of Jesus with. Don't keep that light of yours under a basket. Get out and let it shine. Talk with sinners-just don't be one. Weep with those that weep, just like Jesus did. But stay on the course He has for you. And if like mine, it is strait, I know my God will take me through to where He wants me to be. And if it is straight, like the freeway, I choose to ride with Him too. Free from fear, for I know that He rides with me. And I now enjoy all the curves I can handle-not confined by legalism, but riding free in the spirit. Just like He promised. And if the road you happen to be on is rough, you probably are on the right road. Stay the course with Jesus. He'll get you where you are going.

Strait or straight, the difference one little letter, G can make. And the difference that G, as in God will make in your life when you follow Him. Be one of the few that find Him-and when you come to a fork in the road take it. Bring on the curves Lord, we have a lot of riding yet to do! Use all of the tire on your bike, not just the middle of them! Strait-and straight! Good advice on life from the one who is the way, the truth, and the life. And a road you won't find on any GPS-only in the spirit!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

---

the human race

I first met NASCAR champion Jimmie Johnson in 1994 when I was one of his sponsors through Nelson and Nelson Racing. He used to call me sir. Through him I met his dad Gary, who worked an off-road support trailer for BFG. Gary was also a very nice man, one of the good guys, and when he asked us to help him out for the 1996 Baja 1000, we readily agreed. He would be set up in Ojos Negros, and needed help when the racers would be coming through between 1am until 6am the next morning. They would be about 800 miles into the 1000 mile race at that time, and we would fuel them, change tires as needed, and do quick safety checks and mechanical repairs.

Working the BFG trailer was definitely first class. I had helped before, but mostly spent time with the Simon and Simon team, they had won the 1992 Baja 1000, or Nelson and Nelson, whose racer Larry Ragland had won the 1000, and the 500. He was Jimmie's teammate. So I was used to doing things right, just not in the numbers we would be faced with. In preparation we had to fill 10 gallon dump cans from a drum with a hand crank. Label all the tires and have them ready when the cars arrived. We had a full on kitchen, so food and drink was no problem, but sleep was. We had to sleep on tires or wherever we could find until our time came. Just be ready-and have the fuel and tires ready. Be safe above all! And with spotters along the way, we would know when the cars we would service were close, so we could be ready. Lack of sleep can be overcome by adrenalin, and commitment to service, which in this day before energy drinks was all we had to go on. And the love of racing. You didn't want to disappoint anyone after they had raced 20 hours, or miss them after your preparations-you had to stay alert and be patient.

Jesus tells in a parable about 10 bridesmaids, virgins, who are to be ready for the bridegroom to call for his bride. According to Jewish tradition, it could happen at any time, even midnight. And to have their lamps filled with oil, to light the torches to lead the way to the celebration. And to carry extra oil, for the torches would only last about 15 minutes, then had to be refilled. But sadly, some were not ready, and forgot the extra oil-they were asleep. And when they didn't make it to the wedding, could not get in-the door was locked. The parable telling us to be ready for the return of Christ, which is imminent, and don't miss out. Be watchful. A warning to those who think that religion gets them there, but it takes a relationship with Jesus Christ to get into the party. The oil representing the Holy Spirit, and if it is not in you, then you are not saved-for only through salvation does the spirit dwell in you. So sad to live expecting Jesus, but not go, because you were not ready. Because you followed a lie. So make sure you are ready-trust God. Waiting can be tough, but the rewards are unequalled.

At the end of our shift that year we had fueled 110 cars. I had lifted 110 dump cans at 75 pounds each. I can't tell you how many tires I had lifted or moved. And my body felt like it. I had been up all day, slept for a few hours on the floor in the trailer, but was ready when they called. I didn't miss what I had waited for, nor had my team mates. We were ready, and because of our service, the racers got what they needed when they needed it. A simple lesson in being prepared, of being watchful. Just like Jesus tells His church. Be watchful. We had some idea of when the racers would arrive, but didn't know times or the hours, just like we don't know the time of His return. But the signs were there, we had to look for them and be ready.

Are you ready? Is there oil in your lamp? How sad to be like a racer who wasn't prepared by leaving gas and tires. And how sad to be part of his race team and not deliver what had been promised. Jesus is coming-the time is short. And like in racing, to finish first , first you must finish. Stay true to the end, be watchful, and you'll have a podium finish-unlike any race has ever had. A finish for the human race, the only race you never want to DNF. And Jesus is the way. A crew chief for humanity. Make Him your Lord and crew chief today-and I'll see you on the podium-in heaven. I peeked at the end of the book-WE WIN!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

such a deal I have for you

I used to be a pretty good negotiator. When it came to price when buying a new car, I was downright nasty. And only Andrew would go with me, and he would giggle. But when it came time to buy Theresa a new car, she had to go with me. As did Andrew and his friend. So as she test drove it, and the salesman went into his act, I was crunching numbers in my head. After the proverbial "what will it take to put you into this car today?" Theresa already owned it in her mind, just like the salesman had planned. But when we sat at the little table, to talk price, I found myself alone with the salesman. Who offered me a fair deal for the car. We negotiated a little more, and reached a price, which include 0% financing. Wash it up, let's sign the papers, and we would be off. We thought.

Until the sales manager told us that at the price it didn't include the chrome wheels on the car. Sorry. So I told him we had a deal with them, but he disagreed, his mistake. The wheels were a $1000 extra! So I left him with a choice-sell the car with the wheels as priced, or I would walk. So we did! He was so sure of himself his mouth fell open. And Theresa was disappointed, while Paul and Andrew were still looking at cars. As we all walked to our old car, the boys started giggling-here comes the salesman! Begging to make a deal. My only answer was-we had one, are you going to honor it?

And he did! We had won the negotiation! We got our price! They had underestimated just how important that car was to us. It wasn't. Sadly it had taken more negotiation to get there, but we won. Persistence had won out. And yes, we would have found another red Mustang that day-other dealers would love to meet or beat his deal. Says so right in their ads. So the manager did the right thing-he just didn't want to. We forced his hand, and in an age where the customer is always right, we were-he was wrong. But he had sold a car, the salesman made a small commission, and Theresa had her red Mustang-at a great price. And all was well with the world.

Just because it works in business, some think they can negotiate with God. Make a deal with Him. Maybe get Him to overlook a few things, or better yet, include more in the deal. And I wonder, would you trust a God you could negotiate with? What if the next guy got a better deal? I thought God was supposed to be fair. Fortunately I just don't find this in the Bible. Although it is true that God will test us, His promises are yes and amen. You can depend on them. And unlike buying a car, His salvation is not negotiable. It is a simple yes or no answer. Accept Jesus, believe in your heart, and confess with your mouth He is lord, and you are saved. No additional works, memberships, classes, programs, seminars, or works are needed. No special finances or additional payments. It is that simple, and it is available to everyone. And some day, everyone on earth will be faced with a decision-to say yes to Jesus or deny Him. Two thieves, both guilty were faced with that same question. One denied and went to hell. The other confessed who Jesus was, and while they hung on crosses together, Jesus promised the thief he would be in paradise with Him tonight. Which he did. Down to His last dying act, Jesus still saved. And still does today.

His offer still stands today-accept Him and live, deny Him and die. A simple equation for heaven, so simple a thief nailed to a cross can get it. But it still takes a decision based on faith-just a little. And saying nothing is the same as saying no. Don't let your silence condemn you.

It would have been easy for us to buy the car without the wheels, or better yet to pay the extra $1000 for them. But a deal had been struck, and it needed to be adhered to. Today the deal offered you by Jesus is the same as yesterday, and the same as tomorrow. Only you aren't promised tomorrow, if you walk out on Him today, situations change in your life, and you may forget. Thankfully God never does, but reminds you that TODAY is the day of salvation. And is patient-but don't wait too long. If we had waited till the next day, the Mustang may have been gone. And all the negotiations would not have mattered-the car was gone. Game over. Don't face eternity without God. Trust Him today-accept Jesus!

And live your life knowing you made the best decision on the most incredible deal you will ever be offered-welcome to eternal life in Christ! Now, what will it take you to be saved today?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

eat to ride, ride to eat

A friend of mine who is an OTR-an over the road trucker, pointed out to me years ago that just because a diner has a lot full of trucks doesn't mean the food is any good-it just means the lot is big enough for him to park his rig. Dispelling the myth about truck drivers knowing all the good spots to eat. But-if you see a diner with the lot filled with motorcycles, it probably means the food is good, the portions are big, and you get to eat with a better class of people-bikers. For we are the proud bearers of the saying "eat to ride, and ride to eat." And it is safe to say you will never see any of us in a weight loss ad. Our idea of a lap band are vest extenders. And we take both parts-both riding and eating, of the saying very seriously.

As a Christian biker, I also am able to see Jesus and His parables in many of our riding and eating situations. He fed the 5000 with just two loaves and five fish after blessing them, I have been in food lines that have no end, but always some left over. He turns away no one, they all leave full, and their is always some left for the late arrivals. Because some don't ride quite as fast as they eat. Or eat as fast as they ride.

This last weekend our friends from the Black Sheep invited us to help again serve at the Biggs Chapter of HOG annual event. This year Maggie and crew outdid themselves again in so many ways, and showed the example of scripture where Jesus says it is more blessed to give than receive. Rather than the old stand by of burgers and tube steak-hot dogs to you rookies, they had tri-tip, seasoned to perfection. 200 pounds of it for 400 hungry bikers, do the math. Just like God's portions, they were bigger than expected. I watched as the server next to me put on 5-6 slices. Then I gave them a big spoonful of both potato salad and cole slaw. As I then watched them have to hold the plate with both hands, it was beans, a roll, and a drink. And NO one went away hungry. Perhaps one rider said it best-"I was expecting a hamburger, you guys gave me a feast!"

And we all had a real good time! An example set by Jesus at His first public miracle. The wedding was winding down and they were out of wine. At that point He turned water into wine-the best they had ever tasted! Wine representing joy, He saved the best for them at the end. And they left with more joy than they had entered with. A point we should remember. The joy of the Lord! More than wine, tri-tip, and all the fixings-Jesus is that joy. And we can share in it everyday-not just at the end of it! And His joy is never ending. Sadly, no matter how much we eat, we will hunger again. The joy Jesus gives goes on forever. Into heaven!

So next time you are hungry, look for a place filled with motorcycles. Stop in and eat with a better class of people. Sit and enjoy more than enough food, and probably done well. Say hi in response when someone says hi to you. We forgive you for not riding, but you are still welcome to eat with us.

And if that church has motorcycles parked out front, stop in. For like the gospel, we have a simple message. For eating to ride also means being fed at church-spiritually. Then we ride to feed others, showing the love of Jesus. And we have learned to show it by our actions, rather than our words. After all, it is rude to talk with your mouth full. But you can share the gospel of love no matter what.

Just leave room for dessert-for like Jesus, no matter how good the meal, the best is yet to come.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

---

---

---

her heart, her home, and her wallet

The legend began during the 4th of July weekend in 1947. I say legend, because due to so many false reports, the "posed" picture for the cover of Life magazine , the movie the Wild One, and so many other stories told, the truth is in there somewhere, but that's a story for another time. What I am referring to is Hollister, California, and the weekend that bikers supposedly took over the town. But for me it started in 1997, when the city decided to hold a rally, the Hollister Independence Day Motorcycle Rally, to celebrate what they refer to as the "birthplace of the American Biker." And for ten years, before the politicians finally won out, this is where you would find me, and up to 120,000 other bikers. Celebrating our freedom, both on two wheels and that of our great US of A.

Imagine if you can, San Benito St. closed for five blocks, and lined four wide with motorcycles. And for two blocks on each side the same thing. Just enough space to cruise both ways, then turn around and do it again. Food courts, live bands, vendors, and lots of police. So many that in fact the one year it was referred to as the police rally in Hollister. No freedom mentioned. No celebration either. But as much as Hollister is about bikes and bikers, and those who dropped their kickstands at Johnny's, those who partied at Bolado Park, or hung out at Corbin's, it was about the people. Bikers, wanna-bes, posers, townspeople, and anyone who was there. And we all had a real good time! Incredible memories, crime was virtually non-existent, we were all welcome, and it made money-so much that they used to give it away to charities.

Then somehow the accounting system got changed, and it lost money. And whereas it was the safest town in California for the weekend, it became dangerous-although no reports were ever given. And when the rumor began we may lose our rally, a lot of us got upset. When in line at the Methodist Church all you can eat breakfast, it was priced reasonable, and they learned quickly how much ALL you can eat to a biker really meant. ALL means ALL! So while standing in line one year, I was talking about how sad the politics were, a server said "talk to the mayor, he's right behind you." And so the mayor and I had breakfast together that morning. He is a biker, was pro-rally, but certain forces above his political control were out to cancel the rally. No reason given, but too many bikers on any weekend can be too many. No one asked the storekeepers, who loved the business. No one asked the cops who got paid triple time. Mr. Sherriff, where was all the crime you told us about? And no one asked the bikers. I guess we were not politically correct enough-a compliment I'll take any day. And so Hollister went into the history books, quietly and without a battle. Unlike the legend that started it all. As bikers we won't stay where we aren't wanted, so we took us, our friends, and our money elsewhere. Loving the town, but not its politics-or its politicians. Only the mayor was with us still.

A key component among the biker community is respect. We may not agree with your viewpoint, but respect us and we will respect you. And the churches, two in particular were there showing respect, and love to the bikers. Like the Bible advises them to do. The Methodist church had the awesome breakfast, and also let CMA have services there. But Hollister Christian Fellowship is one that stood out. For a few years, they opened their doors to bikers, and let Pastor Fred hold services there. Right at the entrance to Corbin's, we sang, worshipped, and shared Jesus. To all who came by, and the memories are precious. Reaching out to the community,which just happened to be two wheels that weekend, they showed the same kind of respect that the bikers do, but with the love of Jesus. Outside of the walls of the church, putting the gospel into action. City counsel, aka Pharisees, take note.

But the First Presbyterian Church raised the bar. Not only opening the church to bikers on Sunday, the pastor encouraged the congregation to open their homes and house bikers-Bikers for Christ in particular. And so many did, and were so blessed by their actions. Taking in strangers, and loving on them. Showing respect, without laws or bounds. Grace God calls it. But within the church was a real gem of a lady, whose name escapes me-help me Fred. When all the bikers were housed, she had no one to stay with her. So instead she opened up her home on Saturday afternoon and fed all BFC and friends who came. About 40 of us would show up, and she would feed us roast beef, Mexican food, salads, desserts, and so much home cooking that this all you could eat love feast made the Methodist breakfast pale by comparison. This little lady-in her 70's, showed us more of the love of Jesus by feeding us than many churches did in a year of sermons-she opened her heart, her home, and her wallet, and trusted God. Showing true respect, and we are proud to have her as part of our brotherhood, bikers and Jesus.

Trust God today when the opportunity to minister to someone. Outside of the church building, remembering that we are the church. Show some love and respect to someone short on both. When Jesus addressed the church, He asked them where they were when He was hungry, alone, in jail, sick, thirsty, or naked. They didn't realize He was referring to anyone in need, and missed the point. Don't you. For by neglecting these things He told them He never knew Him, and be gone. Words I would never want anyone in my church to hear.

The best definition of teamwork I ever heard was if it needs to be done, do it. Words for the church to live by. Showing love, respect, compassion, and meeting the needs of others. Without the government, fund raisers, or charging for it. Give, so that others may hear the gospel. And when needed, add words.

I still miss Hollister. But the work of the church goes on. There will always be a biker who is hungry or needs a place to rest. By doing so you just may welcome someone I know into your home. Or it may even be me. Either way, take Jesus with you after the church service. Hollister may just be another name for wherever you are, and whatever the need is. Be the gospel, the witness the world needs. Watch the world rally to you when you show them the love of Jesus.

Your actions of love may be the best sermon anyone ever hears. One that is even heard over the loud pipes. Thanks Hollister for your love and respect over the years. Loud pipes may save lives, only Jesus Christ can save souls. What do your actions say about Him?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

---

---

---