the movies today will be the news of tomorrow

There is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are controlling transmission. If we wish to make it louder, we will bring up the volume. If we wish to make it softer, we will tune it to a whisper. We will control the horizontal. We will control the vertical. We can roll the image, make it flutter. We can change the focus to a soft blur or sharpen it to crystal clarity. For the next hour, sit quietly and we will control all that you see and hear. We repeat: there is nothing wrong with your television set. You are about to participate in a great adventure. You are about to experience the awe and mystery which reaches from the inner mind to – The Outer Limits. 

And on that September evening in 1963, we were faced with a truth, although some would ignore it, or debate it.  It started with the movies on a big screen, and then invaded or homes, via the television set.  Rooms would be designed around using it as the focal point, and social events would be planned around what was on, from sports to favorite shows. But the monster was still an infant, and was about to mutate and multiply.  Soon televisions of all sizes, from mini screens to giant screens, invaded.  They soon popped up at sporting events, as the “big screen” at baseball and football games gave those who paid to much to attend a chance watch it live while there, with reruns and commercials-just like at home.  With new stadiums bragging about having the world’s largest screen, some so big they dominate the stadium, and the event. Even in larger megachurches, the pastor will tell you to “draw your attention to the big screens.” But as they got bigger, they also got smaller, and soon appeared everywhere, again like the voice told us, controlling transmission.  Soon every desktop PC had a monitor, to watch, just like some of you are doing now, reading this.  Then came the laptop, and soon cell phones had small screens, with internet access, and the ability to see who was calling, so you could answer or not.  Some would text, with the same results.  And soon our lives would be dominated by these little screens, so much that when a family sits down to eat, all members would have their own, communicating but not talking to each other.  Incorporating a new language of LOL, OMG, and others, abbreviating their words, and talking more, but saying less.  Controlling transmission, controlling the volume, the image, via pixel count, and soon the screen was controlling all we see and hear, and all of our responses.  Pictures and movies can be sent instantly to anyone, or everyone, and Youtube can reveal anything you want to know, and many things you don’t want people to know.  All the world is a camera, all it needed was an audience.  And we are it.  We had seen the future, now we were the future, and foolishly we paid big money to sacrifice our freedom, from and of freedoms...all because we had become victims of the screen.  Don’t believe me, put down your cell, turn off your computer, and don’t watch TV for the day.  Stay out of theatres, avoid offices, and watch as you don’t watch the effect these screens have on us.  They are everywhere.  The grip they hold us in powerful, and you tell me, have  reached the awe and mystery of Outer Limits?

Yet many will not accept this, when we can have full control via an off button, or as close as the remote.  But won’t.  We can exercise self control, the fruit of the spirit, yet we choose to go readily into slavery by these devices.  Some will argue that real time is good for troops to visit with their families, and yes not all is bad.  But it takes self control of the situation, and even then it can be used against you.  Such as the Benghazi real time massacre, which our president watched and now denies.  All things may be right, but not all things are righteous.  And on that September evening in 1963 we were told right up front, the future.  Prophetic words that very few were to recognize, and even fewer heed, and as we watch prophecy unfold daily on the evening news, many still choose to ignore the message, they rather be entertained then informed.  And soon this can and will have disastrous results for many....For a time is coming, when God will call for His bride, and Jesus will call all His believers to heaven, leaving earth instantly, in the blink of an eye, 1/240,000 of a second.  And those left behind will wonder what happened.  And the propaganda is in place.  Some years ago a friend of ours owned a TV station in Tucson, and told of premade tapes distributed to them explaining away what had happened.  Whether it was global warming, an alien invasion, or whatever else they planned to lie about, the truth was not out there.  Anything but Jesus, anything but the truth.  Tickle their eyes, entertain their eyes, just not the truth.  They would be controlling transmission, they would control all you see and hear.  Those left behind were facing the outer limits of sanity, and no matter the size of your screen, the truth will still be the truth.  And it is here now...the movies today will be the news of tomorrow.

The screens are everywhere, and even some today are looking back at us.  Your computer for instance, I was looking at motorcycle exhausts the other day, and now when I search something else, ads pop up about motorcycle exhausts.  How did they know?  Is someone watching what we are watching?  And recording it, for future playback?  Have we gone so far in the search of personal desires, labeling it freedom, that we forgot that it takes responsibility?  Has doing our own thing become a thing of someone else, who likes to watch and manipulate?  Has science fiction gone so far as to emulate truth that it is more believable and entertaining than the truth?  That great adventure the Outer Limits described is coming soon, and we are all going to participate in it- I choose Jesus and to be raptured out of here, what is your choice?  To some the message is a soft blur, don’t bother me.  To some it is crystal clear, God is real and so are His words.  And the truth is even further revealed here-there is nothing wrong with your televisions set.  Or laptop.  Or cellphone.  The problem is us, and it is our choice.  For every device comes equipped with an on/off switch.  While some only choose to mute the truth.  It is our choice, the only way a loving God would have it, for love does not demand its own way.  Love will not control all you see and hear, the only thing it will not control is your choice, and the choice is Jesus and life, or denial and death.  And while some wonder who the anti-Christ may be, I will be in heaven.  It won’t matter, and if you want to know, deny Jesus.  A choice.  Would you rather have knowledge, or follow God’s wisdom?  You have heard the truth, will you let Jesus set you free?  Are you ready for the great adventure that awaits you?  Or are you still txting?  Still rather be entertained than informed?  What if what Jesus said is true?  What then becomes of you?  What voices do you listen do, what voices will you listen to then?

We now return control of your television set to you. Until next week at the same time, when the control voice will take you to – The Outer Limits.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

Panic in Detroit-1967, 1973, 2013

It’s a beautiful fall day in September, the weather is in the 70’s, a slight wind, and you decide to go to lunch with some fellow workers, and look at new cars.  The ads have promised new and more power, affordable payments, and just looking makes your three year old model look old, which is was, for this is the fall of 1966, and people would trade every two years, and better yet, you are in Detroit, the automotive capital of the world-MOTOWN!  Bright new Chevies, Fords, Pontiacs, Plymouths, and Cadillacs are out cruising the streets, top down if possible, and all is well in Detroit.  General Motors continues to be the largest manufacturer in the world, and is still under threat from the US government to be broken up as it has over 50% of the market.  Ford and Chrysler make up another 35%, and foreign means small, uncomfortable, and cheap.  With the exception Mercedes Benz, still not a luxury car here, and BMW, so exclusive most think the B stands for British.  MG sells more, and only VW is close, selling less than Mercury, Pontiac, Oldsmobile, and even Buick.  This is Detroit, this is America, and no one will ever change that...and then nine months later riots take over the town, and it is never the same again.  Soon shuttered plants of the Hudson and Packard, once respectable cars, are empty, now for over 15 years, as no one wants them, soon to be joined by GM, Ford, Dodge, and Plymouth.  Even the mighty GM is looking to build cars in foreign countries, adding to the woes of Detroit.  And while Chevrolet still desires you to see the USA in a Chevrolet, many are looking past Detroit, and as the factories close, the population dwindles.  Once proud neighborhoods of factory workers are being found empty, as no work, means no paychecks, and they look elsewhere, if there is an elsewhere.  And suddenly that fall day in 1966 is part of a dream, as you look around at the burned out neighborhoods, now ghettos, and cars on blocks instead of on the street, how could anyone knew this would or could ever happen.

It is another fall day in Detroit, 1973, and OPEC has pushed oil prices high, so high that the little cars that Detroit wouldn’t build, but Japan does, are in demand, and MPG sells.  No one wants a Cadillac at 10mpg, but brags about almost fitting into their Datsun at 20mpg.  And as more new American cars don’t sell, the factories shut down, businesses around them close, and soon neighborhoods become the hood, and the city is in turmoil.  Now fast forward to the future, 2013, and another fall day full of color, but no one in Detroit is cruising.  In just 45 years, it has gone from a city of 2 million, to only 700,000.  Unemployment is still almost 20%, down from 25% a few years earlier, only the mass exodus of people bringing the rate down.  And finally the city, home of MOTOWN, home of General Motors, Ford, and Chrysler, home of the Lions, Tigers, and Red Wings, once a proud, growing, and productive city, is declaring bankruptcy.  It has lost over 70% of its manufacturing jobs in one generation, and no one wants Detroit.  Homes can be bought for les than $1000, just pay the back taxes, and entire city blocks are now reduced to vacant lots, as vandalism, crime, and poverty rule the day, and cars made in Korea, Japan, and Mexico are in driveways.  Even down the road in Dearborn where Henry Ford built housing developments for his workers, you find few Ford cars like before when you wanted to own what you made, now can’t afford to.  Just a generation ago, the fathers tell their kids, this place was booming, and prosperous.  We were living the American dream, and look at us now...a nightmare.  If it could happen here, it could happen anywhere...

And travelling throughout the US of A, it is happening everyday.  NO jobs equals no money, equals no homes.  Equals no hopes.  And soon a people without hope give up.  At first they are angry, then begin to lose hope, and then finally just don’t care, just before they give up altogether.  You find them on street corners, hanging out when they used to go to work.  They may have complained about taxes, but had an income to pay them from, and with taxes falling due to no work, cities cannot maintain roads, cannot respond to crime, to fires, and soon urban decay and ruin takes over.  All in a few short years, or as long as a generation.  And we deny it can ever happen here, to us, we are the US of A, God shed His grace on us, says so in the song.  We sing God Bless America, but we have forgotten to bless God.  And it shows.

Joseph Stalin, heathen, dictator, and nogoodnick, once bragged “give me a generation, and I will change the world.”  Which he did, we just didn’t think it would happen here.  And as I see teachers packing, guards in schools, police not responding, crack houses everywhere, and we still look at the news and say “it can never happen to me,” we are overcome by a great delusion, called Normalcy Bias.  The it could never happen to me, because I have never seen it happen syndrome.  And as the poor seek refuge in politicians promises, they lose even more hope.  Where is God in all this, has He abandoned us?  Why hasn’t He heard our cry?

The answers are simple-God never left, we have left Hiim, He has heard our cries, and He is even answering, as He has for 2000 years, the answer is Jesus.  Money doesn’t buy jobs, or change neighborhoods, but turning to God does.  Any place a change of heart occurs, a change in life follows.  God’s people prosper, and do not give up.  We do no lose hope, although at times it appears hopeless, and life can be like buckwheats-slow beatings.  But God takes us through it, maybe not unscathed, but victorious.  So why aren’t you choosing Him today?  Why aren’t you looking to God?  One of the first scriptures I learned was in 2 Corinthians 4:8.  We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed.  We are perplexed, not in despair, persecuted but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed....sound like you?  It was written by Paul from prison, trusting Jesus all the way.  If he can do it from a cell, can you do it from wherever you are?  Look around, is your life becoming a Detroit, bankrupt and broke, only an image of its former self, or are you seeking God, and watching as Jesus Christ changes lives, and neighborhoods, and cities?  When General Mac Arthur was asked what Japan needed after WWII, he told them they were a broken and faithless nation, send Bibles and missionaries.  We sent...none of the above.  And soon Detroit became a war zone.  Are we next?

What will you look back at in 45 years?  KIA, Hyundai, Nissan, and even Honda cars were unheard of in 1966.  Ask a kid under 25 what is a Plymouth, Oldsmobile, or Pontiac?  Over 45, ask about Hudson, Nash, and Rambler.  Those living in Detroit thought it could never happen to them.  All great civilizations have rotted from within, turning from God.  Broke or broken, and your answer is...

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

in trouble, ask a biker

I have always been proud to be a biker, but yesterday I was never prouder as thousands of our brotherhood took to the highways for Washington, DC, not as a protest, but as a show of support to America, and that we still believe in her, no matter the politics or polls.  Now we knew getting 2 million bikers together is a task, and given short notice, and on a weekday, still estimates ranged from tens of thousands, to 880,000.  No matter, a presence was felt, and in a peaceful way, made a statement to the world.  I have always said if you are in trouble or need something, call a biker, and yesterday proved it.  So my helmet is off to all of you who rode in it, I am making plans to ride it next year-I am sure this is no one hit wonder.

Riding with Torches Across America, I was proud when 3200 of us rode to Ground Zero, through the Holland and Brooklyn Battery Tunnels, and into Brooklyn for a party to honor those killed on 9-11.  Motorcycles mean patriotism in this country, and represent freedom, and those of us who ride are out doing it.  The Love Ride, largest one day fund raising event ever, is an annual event.  My friend Steve Shapiro heads the BAD Ride every year, Bikers Against Diabetes.  How many toy runs every Christmas provide toys for kids who wouldn’t have them otherwise, and when we show up at Children’s Hospital in full force of over 500 bikes, with toys, the kids love it...and so do we.  When I was life flighted last year, a nurse who rides offered my motorcycle a place in her garage.  Another group of motorcyclists,the Black Sheep, held a fund raiser for us, over $3000.  Two of them, Ken and Ned, on their own time and money, drove 1000 miles each way to Durango one weekend to get my bike...and I can go on.  So I will.  When my son was arrested years ago, it was bikers who showed support.  From an ex-chief of police to a Hells Angels president, we got support, with the HA president telling me “we are probably more alike than you think, we only look a things differently.”  Run that one by the medical staff that calls tells us we ride murdercycles, and I have even heard we deserve to get hit, do they tell that to the oncology patients?  We ride, a choice, we know the dangers, where is their compassion?  Every time I have needed help on the side of the road, it has been a biker, even if in a car or truck, that stopped to help.  We stop for cars broken down too, and I have stayed with little old ladies while waiting for a tow truck, when cars whizzed past.  I have pushed, pulled, been pushed, given gas, use of a cellphone, and given rides home by bikers, even when it is out of their way.  You see we have a sense of duty, of community, we call it a brotherhood, based on respect.  Not a perfect system, but it works.

In a way it is like a ministry, and being a Christian biker is the way to live.  Now if the church could ever get our brotherhood thing together, it would explode.  Talk about revival!  For it seems everywhere you look, behind the scene of any good deed, you find God.  It is His love and compassion that spills over into the biker world, and although we have our problems with God sometimes, even the most hard core biker will stop and listen when you ask for prayer in public.  For the past dozen years we have taken our bikes to harvest festivals, and let kids of all ages, and dads and moms, sit on them, and turn the throttle.  Backing up the lines as candy is dandy, but a chance to sit on a motorcycle is cool.  Watching as their eyes light up, and showing a side of Jesus the guy in his Lexus would never show.  “Hey Mister, can I sit in your new car?”  Try that one sometime, yet many times I see kids looking at motorcycles, and soon see them sitting on it, being held in place by a biker’s hands, while their parents take a picture, leaving smile that lasts all day.

So it only seems natural for both Christians and bikers to be cast as outcasts of society.  We both know freedom that others are afraid of, and express it in our lives, and lifestyles.  So next time you get invited to church, and see motorcycles parked out front, you are in a cool church.  They understand the freedom in Jesus, the unity in the spirit, and the brotherhood of believers.  And we invite you to join in, get out of your cage, and feel the wind in your face.  Better yet drop all your prejudices and preconceived notions about Jesus, and let Him into your heart, and experience true freedom.  Learn that to be respected, you must show respect, it is earned, but that the love of God is a gift, that cannot be earned.  In trouble, ask a biker,  just don’t expect only one to show up.  And expect us to stay after the job is done, to fellowship, share, and encourage.  And that was what the 2 million biker ride was all about.  It is about freedom...which is your choice.  Live free in Christ, or die by the rules.  They are out there...just looking for you, to take away your freedom.

Yesterday while attending a 9-11 ceremony, I was asked to share about 9-11, and I chose flight 93, and the miracle aboard it, how 40 people united to take out the terrorists.  Any coincidence in was on a Untied Airlines jet?  Yet after speaking, I was standing next to an over dressed young man, very polite, clean cut, and stiff.  They introduced him as a representative of a state senator, and all the cameras, TV and other focused on us.  He grinned and waved, and after I leaned over and told him, “I hope they didn’t identify the wrong person.”  To which he laughed, and then I told him, “because I have a reputation.”  And he got it.  Biker or politician, who you gonna call?  Maybe not a change in him, but a seed planted for freedom.  He was there by order, I was there because I wanted to.  Just like 2 million bikers were yesterday.  Come join us for the ride of your life.  Just make sure you get the right ones in the photo, we have reputations too.  In trouble call Jesus, and don’t be surprised if He sends a biker.  He sent 2 million yesterday.  And only one politician.  He is known for getting the job done, would you settle for anything less? 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot

another hero of flight 93

Sitting here it is almost 12 years to the minute that United Airlines Flight 93 became the final plane to crash on 9-11.  But the crash of this flight was to be different from the Twin Towers and Pentagon crashes, as 40 brave and heroic Americans defeated the terrorists by taking the plane over and flying it into the ground, just outside of Shanksville, Pennsylvania.  A little town not even on some maps, it was soon to become a memorial field, and a place of remembrance.  On that day a Catholic priest, Fr. Alphonse Mascherino was so touched as he volunteered to do whatever was needed, that he asked God how he could help.  God’s answer to him, was to make a place where families, friends, and others could find peace, and remember that morning.  Selling everything he had, his brother in law Larry gave him far more than his antiques were worth, and he bought an old church building, that local farmers were using to store hay.  Investing everything he had in the vision God had given him, he started to renovate the insides, his goal to e open and have a service on 9-11, 2002.  When the clerk at 84 Lumber asked why he was in all the time, buying $25 of stuff at a time, he explained his dream, and the owner, Maggie, provided all the supplies, lumber, and manpower to meet his target date-all with just two seeks to spare.  And the miracles had just begun.

In 2005 on my first Torches Across America ride, we went to the crash site, and on that foggy morning, a man stepped out of the crowd of 300 bikers, and sang the Star Spangled Banner, as we all joined in.  And as the fog lifted, the sunlight shone on the area still off limits, and 9-11 became all too real.  So the next year I planned to be there on 9-11, and had heard of the chapel.  The UAL Flight 93 Memorial Chapel, the dream of Fr. Al.  Contacting him, I volunteered to help, but he wanted me to speak, as many bikers were coming, and he wanted them to be ministered to.  And soon the vision of the Chapel had brought me into Fr. Al’s vision, and on the fifth anniversary of the crash, I was to speak.  And also to be humbled by a man who loved people, and to comfort them.  A man so well respected that from senators to farmers all knew him.  A day where it rained, the locals claim God sheds tears there that day, where over 500 of us waited in tent that held only 250, we all were overwhelmed by the presence of God.  From the North Star Kids starting off singing “I’m proud to be an American...” our tear cracked voices sang along.  We got to meet the Lt. Governor of Pennsylvania, who approached me and told me she rode a Harley, and was one of us.  To meeting the entire Leroy Homer family, Flight 93’s co-pilot, Mary White, Beth Waino’s mom, to so many who had been associated with them, we were welcomed, and blessed.  All friends of Fr. Al, who made us all feel welcomed, and the start of a friendship lasting until he died last spring.  A man who was healed miraculously of cancer-3 times, yet the fourth was to take his life.  A man who died penniless, except rich in God and friends.  A man who when God gave him a vision, let Him carry it out, also providing a cottage next door for his friends to stay at, of which we stayed many times.  A man whose faith in Jesus Christ made him a rebel in the Catholic church, as he gave communion to all believers, and who with another priest were looking to buy old churches, and allow all faiths to use them to worship.  A man who used to e-mail regularly, asking for prayer and guidance, as he undertook new projects.  A man who after being healed for the last time, opened the chapel on Sunday afternoons for any church group with a worship team, and then to have a healing service...how many of us would look for reasons to not attend, he saw Jesus as the only reason to attend. 

In the spring of 2011, when taking a drivers test, he failed, being declared legally blind due to cataracts.  Which explained his wild driving I experienced first hand.  But having one eye done, then the other, he saw such colors and beauty that he wrote he was going to find a church and attend his first sunrise Easter service.  But soon after that a fourth cancer was to set in, and take his life.  But loyal to God to the end, he spoke last year at the chapel, and would still do mass for whoever needed it.  Giving of himself, he emptied himself much like Jesus did, serving with humility and love, to a dying world.  And today I really miss my friend.  A man of God so sold out to God he once denied Focus on Family to tape there on the National Day of Prayer, there agenda was too politically correct for him, the day was to draw attention to Jesus, and no one else.  I really miss the man with holes in his boots, and dirt under his fingernails.  I miss the e-mails, and talking for hours on the phone.  But I too have left a legacy, as CMA through Dave and Linda continue to serve at the chapel, and Dave was able to assist Fr. Al in his last days.  One man touching so many lives...a true hero of Flight 93.

So as I look out on this cool California day, last week was 100, today in the 60’s and foggy, I remember that first day at the chapel, where I knew something special was to happen.  I remember at 10:03, the time the plane went intothe ground, the bell ringing ceremony, 40 people there to ring the bell, one each for each hero.  I remember the newscaster filming the Homer family with us, and when Ilsa Homer, Leroy’s mom joined the group, she of Swedish descent, the black camera man blurted out  “You’re white!”  To which she answered, “ my husband was black.”  And we all laughed together.  To being held and consoling the other stewardesses of United Airlines who knew the crew and captain, with their tears touching my cheeks.  And to Fr. Al leading us all in God Bless America!  And so that is my prayer for today, and everyday.  God bless America, we need it.  But let me add, America Bless God.  And as we remember the victims of 9-11, including the ones in Libya, let us turn to Jesus and seek His peace and guidance.  Just like my friend and fellow patriot Fr. Al did.  Who today and forever is in heaven, finally meeting his fellow heroes and co-workers.  It is written the harvest is plentiful,but the workers few.  I am blessed to be among the few, and a friend of Fr. Al.  Who would be embarrassed, and write me telling me so...I’ll just have to wait to deal with that one.  One more time to see my friend, and in heaven with Jesus.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

from a plaque left at the chapel-

THE BRAVE AMERICANS WHO BOARDED FLIGHT 93 DID NOT KNOW THEY WOULD BE CALLED UPON TO BECOME WARRIORS FOR GOOD, IN THE EVER PRESENT BATTLE BETWEEN GOOD AND EVIL. EVEN SO, THEY EXERCISED THEIR GOD GIVEN RIGHT TO FREEDOM BY TAKING A VOTE, AND THEN TOOK OSAMA'S KILLERS TO THE GROUND. SINCE I DO NOT KNOW OF ANY WHO EARNED THE EAGLE, GLOBE, AND ANCHOR, I AM LEAVING THEM ONE OF MINE. SEMPER FI.
KEN GUERCIO
5-30-05

 

 

 

Bill is a very good attorney

Bill is an attorney.  All attorneys lie.  And Bill is a very good attorney.  Thus was the legacy of my friend Bill, who we met through off road racing.  He was known as a good racer, and a fierce competitor, only he was know to stretch the truth.  And make it sound so believable that no matter how unbelievable it was, you wanted to believe it.  But like I said, he was known to stretch the truth.  After one race where he had narrowly missed being hit by another car, he was telling us how he missed being hit and taken out of the race by 6 inches.  All the while his co-driver was standing behind him, where Bill didn’t see him, with his arms out stretched, more like 6 feet!  But the legend grew, if only in Bill’s mind, and we still loved him, despite his specious claims, a word he taught me, specious meaning useless.  But one bit of advice he gave me has stuck with me, and I’ll pass it on to you.  Although you may have a big story to tell, the judge, or your audience only cares about a small part of it.  Which he demonstrated by his arms outstretched, 6 feet, and then put his hands together in a small square.  You may have a 6 foot story, but they only care about 4 inches of it.   Advice I was to use when I went to court...

I had been a salesman most of my life, and I wanted out.  I was tired of the lies, and misrepresentations that the trade was known for, I tried to tell the truth, and was known for coming in with it, after someone else’s lie sounded better.  Amazing how a lie can sound more real than the truth, but it does happen.  So I finally decided one day, I was through, and I would quit.  But when checking into my 401k, found out if I quit I would lose the company’s participation, taking about half of what was in there.  But if I was fired, I got it all, so I just quit going to work, didn’t answer or return any calls, and finally they sent me a letter telling me I was no longer employed.  So I called my friend in HR, who sent me all the paperwork to get my money, but later got a phone call.  My boss, Les, told them I had quit, and so there was a problem, they wouldn’t give me all my money.  So I called Bill, who recommended small claims court, tells you how big my life savings was, and I went to court.  Using his coaching, I copied the page, highlighting the line that stated if fired or released, 100% would go to the ex-employee.  Confident I went to court...

But so did Les, and although I never trusted him, was reminded why he could have been an attorney, a very good one.  After I presented my case, which took only a few seconds, I handed the pro tem, not even a real judge, my copy, he asked a few questions, and then it was Les’s turn.  He told how I was a bad employee, never returned phone calls, and had quit without telling him, how dare I do that?  As the pro tem listened, he then tried to hand him a bound 6 inch thick book of papers.  “What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.  Les’s answer, “ I copied the entire employee handbook for you.”  Pro tem, “but what does this have to do with the case?”  Les then mumbled something, while the pro tem handed him back the 10 pound book.  And then Les blurted out, “we had to get  him off the books somehow, so we let him go!”  The pro tem smiled at me, and told me he would consider the case, a judgment to come in the mail soon.  And I waited...and waited...I had seen Les go down in flames, I had won, he had lost...and I was on to a new career.  And then the judgment..

Although it was evident I had been fired, or let go just to get me off the books, the pro tem thought I should only be awarded 2/3 of my money.  I had won, but I had lost, how did that happen?  Are you innocent,or guilty?  Or is not guilty also mean not innocent?  Maybe if I had had a real judge and not a wannabe lawyer, with a borrowed gavel, I would have won it all.  But I had won, and it was more than Les had wanted to give...a victory.  I had used Bill’s advice, and told the small part, the only part the pro tem was interested in, and had won.  But along with experience I had learned about judgments, and how when right, you can still be wrong.  Just walking in court can make you feel guilty, and placing your whole case before one person, or a jury can be risky.  I had risked, and won.  But someday we will all stand before a final judge, and all of our contacts, skills, advice, and knowledge will not mean a thing.  We will be judged on whether we are forgiven or not, on who we say Jesus is, and how we trusted Him.  And all our sin will, like His decision, be righteous.  We will get it.  Those who deny Him will know His love and judgments are right.  And they will get what they wanted, no God in their lives...forever.  But for those who are saved, who trusted their lives in Jesus, we will also see true justice.  We will get what not what we deserve, but mercy, and grace.  We will enter into the Kingdom of heaven, to be with Jesus forever.  Now that is the kind of judge I will be glad to stand in front of, confident I know Jesus now, and forever.  He will be your counsel, wonderful counsel, and will present you as without sin, no matter what you are accused of.  Better than a pardon, there will be no record because Jesus has taken your sin, and it is forever gone.  The only way to stand before the final judgment, with Jesus as your representative.

I had only won 2/3rds, which meant they won 1/3.  Still a victory, but in Jesus I will be 100%, or 3/3rds a victor.  The trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit will all be on my side, and I will be on theirs.  Now that is a true victory.  Bill was and still is a very good attorney.  But in the court of life, you need Jesus, the only one who can truly represent you.  Whether you miss by 6 inches or 6 feet, you don’t want to miss heaven, a miss is still a miss.  And stick with the basics, trust Jesus.  If you don’t get the small things, you will never get the big ones.  Only Jesus cares about all of you.  Let the truth set you free.  And from a judge who is not a pro tem, but the real thing.  Every story sounds true until you have heard the other side’s story.  Let Jesus be the other side of your story, or better yet both sides. 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

AM/FM-are you Sirius?

I’m about to be sick, just one more commercial showing young people worshipping some tiny, 4 door sedan is about to make me go green, as in puke.  Whatever happened to kids who liked cars, and didn’t view them as appliances, or places to listen to prerecorded music stereos with more power than their car?  If I see one more commercial with them dancing synchronized like a Dr. Pepper commercial, agreeing with the attributes of processed cheese, and “yes, I can hear you now,” I may just give up hope on this next generation.  About as far as you can get from when I grew up, where men were men, girls were girls, and we all liked cool cars, and fast was cool.  Even our music set the tone, and songs about Little Deuce Coupes, 409’s, her Daddy’s T-Bird, XKE’s and Vettes on Dead Man’s Curve, and even ‘34 wagons they thought to be woodies got us in the mood to go for a ride.  Never heard of a song about Toyota did you?  Did you know they even had a car called the Toyolet, sounds like toilet.  Who ever sang about my mpg, but we did sing about 413’s kickin’ in.  Even the nerdiest nerd knew what a 4 speed, dual quad, posi-traction 409 was, she was real fine, what rhymes with Corolla?  Or Camry?  What girl could resist a ride on a moonlit night with the top down in his Mustang, with the tunes pouring out of the AM radio, hoping the cool DJ would play their song, how could Sirius with prerecorded you choose to listen to your only favorite songs with the top up so she wouldn’t mess her hair, seat belted safely on the other side of the car, no wonder kids have no sense of romance today.  Remember bench seats, and her finally getting close to you, and your arm going to sleep and in agony  for hours...who didn’t live for those moments?  Cruising the drive-in on Friday nights alone, and then again on Saturday night, but this time with your girl...and all the time the songs were about love, cars, love surf, love, and love.  No drugs, unwed mothers, schools with cops, or divorced parents, we were in love, and the music told all about.  Even two girls for every boy talked about your chances for a date, and not,well you know.  So why not uncap the headers, set the distributor, fill up on Sunoco 260, and meet at the end of town for some drag races, for pinks.

But along came FM, and soon we were able to listen to an entire album side, instead of just one song, heard 20 times a day.  And the sound quality got better, even better than the reverb kit in your mother’s Pontiac, and soon it wasn’t about cruising with your windows down, but with them up, to better hear the music.  Suddenly war protest songs, songs about drugs, Society’s Child, and Love Children became popular, but the cars stayed hot and fast.  Motown was putting out the hits, both in cars and music, and as car songs went to the older guys, still cruisin’ the drive in on Friday night, looking for a date, others had gone to Nam, and Country Joe asked “1-2-3 what are we fightin’ for?”  Where had all the car songs gone, where had the 2 minute 30 second bursts of joy gone?  Who would have ever thought it would lead to miles per gallon, Wi-fi, and watts per channel, rather than cubic inches.  And no songs.  We had lost our way, and it was to get worse, for in 1974 OPEC controlled America, and its gas prices, and soon some even rode motorcycles because they got great fuel economy.  Cars were to follow, and soon 0-60 became 0-50, and the times were slower yet.  No songs about Mustang Sally II, And when Daddy  said “son you’re gonna drive me to drinkin’,” it was in a Mark III, not a Hot Rod.  Never heard a song about Nissan/Datsun, Honda cars, although Honda bikes were groovy little motor bikes.  And forever the next generation was doomed to disco, Brittany Spears, synchronized dancing, and not one song about cars, because cars along with the music just weren’t cool any more.  At least Justin Bieber got a ticket for speeding.  Green was in, and you wonder why I’m about to go green?  It ain’t with envy.

It seems every time God sets up something good, someone has to try and improve on it, or at least change the truth to suit themselves.  If you can remember all lies are based on truth, then you can get why today we have people who see demons everywhere, and wish to cast them out of everyone, instead of facing up to their own actions and being held responsible.  They might have read the Bible, but missed Acts 19, the 7 sons of Skeva.  Or those who name and claim everything, serving God who serves them, a genie in the lamp, demanding Him to give them what they want...or else.  And when He doesn’t, believe God doesn’t work, when really it is their sin and religion that have led them astray.  Accountability, not me, they claim as they enforce their rules on you, the young and unsuspecting.  And soon, like car songs that made us happy to be young, they have become old and bitter, and soon songs of divorce, drugs, unwed mothers, and suicide become popular.  The songs reflect what is in our hearts, and too many Christians just don’t have fun, as if it were a sin.  So I ask, what good is fun if you don’t enjoy it?  And Christians should have more fun than anyone else, we know Jesus, we are going to heaven, and the best day here is still the worst day in heaven.   And yet we see them approach God like they do their cars, non-descript sedans, dull colors, all looking the same in the name of individuality, with i-pods stuck in their ears, and their  date the same way.  Where is the romance we once enjoyed, and why has the church allowed it to be taken away?

For many who ask “can you hear me now?” Jesus answers yes, and asks the same thing.  Can we hear Him now, do we want to?  Have we become so isolated as a society, that we think God is the same way?  Maybe we need to bring back that Old Time Religion, for as the song states, “it was good enough for me.”  Get back to Jesus, instead of boring church services.  How about the Holy spirit instead of programs, and spend some time with God.  Some day today will be referred to as the good old days, what will your memories be?  Would you rather go to a cruise night and remember Betty and Veronica, or hang out in a parking lot showing off your Civic, and the trunk full of speakers?  What is under your hood, in your heart, tells more about where you live and how than we want to know sometimes.  Maybe a trip back where an old AM transistor sister crackles, while singing about love.  Better than your car shaking from the synthetic bass in the Mazda next to you.  Remember when radio was free, and not a subscription?  Remember when Jesus was exciting, and not a subscription?  Maybe it is time to go back to the basics, and get reunited, a cruise night with Jesus.  Remembering the old songs, seeing the old friends, and cruising church for a date, rather than a place to park.  Make it a date tonight, maybe sit out in the car, top down, AM on, and listen to songs about little GTO”s, Cobras, and sit back, even if your car is a sedan, and think about it being a woodie...They may wonder at first what you are up to, and maybe be curious enough to seek and find, just like the Wonder Bar on your old radio.  Try Jesus today, welcome back, we’ve missed you.  Times and cars may change, even radios, but His love never has, or will.  AM/FM-are you Sirius?  Religion or Jesus-how serious are you?

Turn up the reverb, life can be all Crimson and Clover once again.  And no, I’d rather not be a Pepper, too.  Looking for a place where the kids are hip?  Look no further than Jesus...even the Little Old Lady from Pasadena found what she was looking for...have you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com