no one ever failed in Landau's class

My anatomy professor at UNM, Professor Landau, “call me Landau, everyone else does, including my kids and wife,” was a unique individual.  Strange may be closer to the truth.  He looked a lot like Edward G. Robinson, except with the Brillo type hair no comb can tame, and his personality was much like Columbo.  Each class was unlike the other, with the exception he brought us up to speed each meeting with family news, which usually took the whole hour.  So your reading assignment was that much more important, you learned from the book, as anatomy class soon took on the Landau Family Hour.  With one afternoon worth remembering...

I was a fifth semester freshman, at my third try at college.  An attractive older girl always sat next to me, she was about 23, me 21, old for and to the rest of the 18 year olds in the class.  We had talked briefly, and were a little out of their league, as both of us had been out in the world, and decided to go back to school so we didn’t have to work an hourly wage the rest of our lives, to the others this was just 13th grade.  But on this day as we assumed our seats towards the back of the room, Landau had brought in a brain for us that day.  He carried it in a 5 gallon plastic pail, and when he took off the lid, the formaldehyde smell almost killed the front row.  Reaching in, he grabbed the brain, shook off the dripping liquid, as it ran down his arm, and then held it up.  Explaining how it held the keys to our personality, and how each one of us had one.  As he held it up for us in the back to see, it slipped from his hand, and trying with both hands to catch it only juggled it, before it hit the desk in front of him, sending the girl into shock as it dodged her, then bounced onto the floor, rolled down the aisle and came to rest between this girl and I.  With even the jock types screaming and girls jumping out of their seats, he calmly asked “can I have my brain back?” And gently reaching over between us, my fellow female student bent over, grabbed it and rolled it back to him...all very coolly and without all the girly screaming.  Landau picked it up, and replaced it in the pail, secured the lid and went on like nothing had happened...with everyone else in a panic,except the two of us laughing.  Because it was funny.

Now no one ever failed in Landau’s class, as you corrected your own tests at a party held at Landau’s house.  Where the students who showed up were greeted by all the Landaus, who suspiciously all looked the same, like a family drawn from the cartoons, and corrected the tests, giving all one more chance to get the answers right.  An interesting concept, learning by our mistakes, it seemed to work as no one failed-ever.  In fact if you only got a B, you had fallen to too many home made Landau cookies, and after attending two times, my GPA made me look like a genius.  But soon it was finals time, and things were serious, so Debbie, the girl who rolled the brain back to Landau and I agreed to study together.  Like I said she was older, not pretty but attractive, and a bit sophisticated, she had an apartment and I only lived in a basement room for $50/month.  She had bragged about how she liked to cook, and invited me to dinner first, then to study, how could I say no?  And so I got ready for my date, I mean studying, and after a great dinner, she said we might be more comfortable on the sofa with our home made apple pie, ala mode of course. 

Now I was never much to study, I only saw romance, or hands on anatomy studying, and as we finished the pie, she said, “we need to get studying, my boyfriend gets home from work at 9.”  Who gets where at when?  To her it was just to study, I thought I had been invited over....for more than to study for a Landau test.  That we would all go over later at his house anyway...maybe the rolling brain had effected her, or was it me?  No one ever failed in Landau’s class, that night I did at dating, or did I succeed in studying.....

God prepares us for life and ministry by testing us, to see if we are paying attention to what he tells us.  Too often we brag about how great God is when we get our way, or when we correct our own exams.  Other times I feel like the brain Landau juggled and dropped, tested beyond belief and wonder what is God thinking?  When he is really trying to get my attention and show me something.  So often we immediately go to prayer in a bad situation looking for an escape route, when he is really trying to show us his love, and strengthen us through the trial.  We quit in the middle, handing in our test incomplete.  But he wants to draw us closer to him, to prepare us for later.  Tests that we cannot grade ourselves, that only he can, and that we must rely on him.  No matter how much we know, or think we know, or how many Bible studies or times we have read the Bible, he wants to make it personal.  To make the words of his word come alive, yet we only see the trial, and not him.  And our prayers hinder us, as we should be listening rather than directing the situation.  For too many times I expect things after dinner, but forget why I am here. 

We find the prophets many times, as are all the people mentioned in the Bible out side of Jesus, after praying and doing what they think is best, turn to God.  And guided by his spirit then reluctantly do what he has always wanted them to do, giving credence to the scripture “all things work together for those who love the Lord.”  Both good and bad.  But do we run to God first, or poll our friends to find one who is sympathetic to our cause?  Prolonging the inevitable?  Do we seek human acceptance or do we need to get with God, because something happens at 9?  That after I misread a situation, that the spirit shows me how to handle it.  Yet how many trust Oprah, Ellen, The View, or talk radio for answers, when they are just as screwed up?  Why go to another person when you can go directly to Jesus?  And get the answers you need?  Or you can go to Landau’s for correction...

Looking back I am not so sure Landau dropped the brain as much as he let it slip from his hand.  To get a reaction.  Life is like that too, events controlled by heaven happen to us to see where are we in Christ.  We say we believe, but do we?  We say we trust him, but do we?  We say we love others, but do we?  Some watched in horror as the brain rolled by them, what would you have done?  Personally I thought it funny in the context, maybe a study in itself.  Maybe a different type of studying that I had intended to do after dinner.  Another test...

God is toughening us for life and the assignments ahead.  Maybe for a test, or a situation, or a night out.  To test the heart, to see where we are really at with him.  It’s funny I don’t remember anything else about Landau’s class, but I never will forget there brain rolling past me.  Maybe that was the lesson...and I got it.  Now what to do with it.  Dinner is over, the pie is gone, it’s time to study.  No one ever failed in Landau’s class, life is much different.  God will judge us someday, and has given us the answers to life.  Jesus.  And an open book to refer to when needed.  And his spirit that never leaves us.  It never occurred to us until later that that brain belonged to someone, maybe an old Landau student.  Who used to correct his own test.  On judgment day, the final exam will be “who do you say Jesus is?”  He has given us his spirit and a life time to know him, and know him well beyond the answer.  On earth as it is in heaven, not Landau’s room.  Or class.  Study to find yourself approved, but rest in the comfort of knowing Jesus personally.  Some quote him, I know him.  Dinners over, the pie is gone.  It’s almost 9.  Don’t be the one to fail in his class, he has given you a lifetime to find him, now that you know him, how will that change the way you study? What have you heard from your brain lately?  Abby who?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

your 15 minutes

Andy Warhol, he of the subject of David Bowie song and the originator of Op Art, once advised us we each would have our own 15 minutes of fame.  A time when we are the center of attention, when our egos would reign supreme, and even those who don’t like us would acknowledge us.  Quite a promise from Andy, and we can each look back upon times when we were recognized for an accomplishment.  But my mind wanders then, if I have had my 15 minutes, is that the best life gets?  Or if I haven’t, how will I know, or worse yet, what if I have and don’t know it?  Seems like the worst times are spent worrying or considering it, with my eyes on me the whole time.  Is that 15 minutes of fame all about me after all?  And what if it is infamy, maybe Reggie Jackson was right when he said “fans don’t boo nobodies.”  So I have learned, and still in the learning process, that if my life is all about me, I find life shallow, unrewarding, I miss out on many things due to having to do it my way, and miss out on many potential blessings.  Is there more to life than what it can give to me?

Early in my Christian walk, I admired those who got up and preached before a crowd, who espoused the word of God to many, and who garnered attention to themselves.  And there were times when I was the center of attention, and found I didn’t like it.  I  wanted to be recognized, maybe just a pat on the back, or a kind word, but became embarrassed when adulation were heaped upon me.  I was the driving force, not the spirit of the Lord, and my fruit was a bit rotten.  It gave me the credit, as if Jesus couldn’t have done it without me.  And today I function, and live my life finding I get more done, and see more of Jesus in my life and see his light shining through me, not my own, when I sit in the back and let him lead.  When it isn’t all about me, when Jesus truly leads by his spirit, I see his handiwork in my life, see the fruit of the spirit in my wake.  Scripture tells us “these things shall follow them that believe,” what things are you leaving in your wake? 

Over the years I have won many awards, even had a wall full of plaques at one time in my office.  Then one day I threw them all away, only those allowed in my office could see them, and they were about my past, and said little about my future.  And less about God in my life.  But two moments, one when I was enjoying 15 minutes of fame, and the other on vacation, I rather reflect on, and be my testimony, of who Jesus is in my life. 

I worked for a National company, and won Salesman of the Month two months in a row, right before their 10 year anniversary.  Everyone was invited to Dallas, and I was recognized on stage, and afterwards many wanted to meet me.  And in a group, one asked “why are you successful?  What do you do?”  And my chance to prolong my 15 minutes tantalized me, but I asked instead, “you really want to know?  You really want to listen?”  And when the group acknowledged a resounding “yes,”  I shared how Jesus Christ changed my life, and how any success I had was because of him, not my own talents.  And it got quiet, except for one man, who was listening, and when the crowd broke up right afterward, approached me, “I too know Jesus, I just didn’t know he was part of my job too.  He is the key that is missing in my work, thanks for being so bold.”  By the way, those two plaques I won that night got pitched, but I still remember Lee asking me, and thanking God for letting my light shine before men.  Jesus got the credit, I got the blessing, so did Lee.

We are told to be ready in season and out, still not sure what that means, but be prepared is what I learned in Boy Scouts, so we need to be.  On one vacation visiting the Ephrata Cloisters, a community in the 1700’s that were waiting for the return of Jesus, and now a Pennsylvania state park, the ranger kept talking about their waiting for Jesus to return.  Like any tour, some listen, some don’t, and at the end, we all met in the chapel where the community did.  When asked if anyone had any questions, one man asked “what is this return of Jesus you talk of?”  And the ranger didn’t know, she was an employee, just doing her job.  So I raised my hand, and asked her if I might explain, and for the next 15 minutes, shared the gospel to a crowd of 25-30, who were interested, who had taken the tour, and to who now it became personal.  No altar calls, no praying, just answering the question asked, letting God do his thing via me, his spirit versus mine.  You never know when you may be called upon to share, what are you doing with your 15 minutes?  What things are following you?

We never know who is watching or listening, we look around but rarely look up to where God has his eyes on us.  Maybe if we did our walk or ride would be different.  Something to consider, our lives are not our own.  They belong to Christ, and it is he who we represent.  That ought to scare a few of you...and yet Jesus loves me this I know, because the Bible tells me so.  But when I get to share his love,when guided by his spirit, when it is his light and not my high beams of ego blinding others, his love goes forth through me.  Maybe as simple as answering questions, rather than telling all you know.  Talking with a man Thursday who is known as the Bible Man, he knows scripture so well, he fell short when I asked how personal Jesus was, a opposed to knowing words on a page.  I challenged him, He said dared, to listen to the spirit, to go to prayer letting God speak first, then answer.  As he continued to quote scripture, I asked him to let God lead, and he was breaking down, when I told him Isaiah 65:24 how God knows what we need before we ask and already has the plan in place and active, he took a whole new attitude.  My words “nothing takes God by surprise” surprised him, and he said he was going to listen to God tonight first when he prayed.  Can we do the same?  Why just 15 minutes when we can have eternity in Jesus?  And why do we call him Lord but don’t do what he asks? 

Maybe Reggie was right, fans don’t boo nobodies.  Look how they booed Jesus...if only they had known that only 15 minutes ahead laid heaven....he is somebody, and without him we are nobody.  Are you willing to trade your 15 minutes for eternity? 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the truth is told in patina

It started when Stu sent me a picture of a 1978 Suzuki GS1000E for sale, just like mine.  Well almost, as this bike was perfect, almost too perfect, and the asking price was high, I know, mine is for sale for less with no takers.  Now mine is perhaps a good 5 footer, from 5 feet away looks great, but it has patina from being almost 40 years old and being ridden.  This other bike for sale had about the same miles, but was too shiny, too clean, and too perfect.  Although the odometer showed miles, I doubted if it had really been ridden anywhere, and isn’t that what a motorcycle is for, to be ridden?  To take us places?  To get out and ride?  For fun while we own it rather than saving it for an investment later?

Then while having tires put on my old Tiger 955 yesterday, a few flaws were noted.  The chain guard I had tie wrapped together in an emergency, the various scrapes and small scratches all testified of a bike that has been ridden, and at over 103,000 miles still is.  Not perfect, and it shows.  And in both cases my bikes show a patina of being ridden, no trailer queens or garage girls, they are ridden, and the miles show on them.  And on me too.  But last night patina took a different turn for me, while looking at on old baseball glove in the garage.  Now I haven’t played in 20 years, a shoulder so bad I cannot throw anymore, but yet I keep this old glove handy right next to the helmets and bike parts. 

It is a 1968 Rawlings Fast Back, the first model of its style.  It replaced an old McGregor outfielders glove, a Willie Mays signature model, with the long fingers of an outfield glove.  Which I finally wore out.  And for my $16.95 1968 paper route money, I replaced it with the new glove, a Mickey Mantle signature model, and it came with a book by the Mick on how to play baseball.  And being 40 years old it is worn pretty well, but my hand fits into it perfectly, funny how I never equated fits like a glove to a baseball mitt.  The back is faded from the sun, the Rawlings label gone, only stitching remains, and the pocket is still there from ground balls playing third base, and then moving to left field when my chin couldn’t take it any more.  Even a few shoelaces holding the fingers together don’t match, where between innings you did quick repairs.  And as I held the glove, put it on, and saw how well it fit, so many memories came back to me.  Who knows how many humid afternoons in Jersey hardened the inner heal, or the tips of the fingers showed wear from ground balls.  Not as fancy as anything today, it was personal, it fit my hand, and like the imperfections on my bikes, there were memories of how they got there.  Worn but not worn out, just like its owner.

Now patina is in this year, after so many better than it left the factory restorations, cars, trucks, and motorcycles are now being left as found, with a patina of wear.  True it is only original once, so the market has come out with a clear coat to apply over the old patina and keep it looking old.  It can even be applied by brush and leave no brush strokes.  So the old doesn’t get any older.  Maybe a fountain of youth for old cars, not returning them to youth as Ponce De Leon sought out to find, but keeping them at the age the clear coat was applied.  And somehow I felt cheated when I read that, the aging process is over, and the car is now frozen in time, to be remembered as it was the day it was clear coated.  No more wear and tear on the paint, it will be up to the seats and steering wheel to show wear, if it even gets driven.  Suddenly my old Suzuki took on a new character of its own, I wanted to ride it, and the lack of flaws on the perfect bike for sale became a flaw all its own.  It was perfect, that was its only flaw.

Scripture tells us an empty stall stays clean, but makes no money.  Quite a telling insight about life.  And us.  If bad decisions make the best stories, they also make the best testimonies when we come to Christ.  How we were, how he changed us and still is, and how we are now.  It is with fondness we look back at the tough times, just the opposite of how we did at the time they were happening.  When the Bible tells us that he who sinned much is forgiven much, how much more we have to thank God for his forgiveness, yet we are all on the same level playing field, as he forgives all.  For all, is they who accept Jesus. But the patina of life stays, only the heart from the inside out is changed, and many scars are still seen, which make the best testimonies.  Yet many shy away from the stories, thinking they have to keep God perfect, to show others how great he is, never telling how he changed them.  I know a man who had a heart condition, a serious one, and had his heart drained.  Yet will shy away from telling it, his pride too great to admit he was once weak and in need of Jesus.  And in doing so is robbing others of hearing the greatness of God, and encouraging others to trust him in their situation.  He wants his stall to remain clean spiritually, but like the mask Moses once wore to keep the people from seeing how the glory of God had left his face, we see behind the mask.  And so does God.  Maybe a quick Jeremiah lesson is in order here.....

Through his ministry which lasted 40 years of pain and prosperity, he learned God is sovereign, he has control over the earth, down to protecting us in our situations.  He saw the ruthlessness of God when the hard hearted continually turned against him.  He saw the faithfulness as God stayed true to the scriptures, HIS word, and not ours.  And finally he learned to suffer, to obtain a spiritual patina, to see how God suffered towards the lost, and see the tenderness of God.  Via his spirit, translated into actions.  He learned first hand how much God loves us, why he sent Jesus so we can return to him, and how the tender heart of God reaches out to sinners, still today.  Despite our wanderings, he still seeks us today, just as we are.  Just as the people in Jeremiah’s time were...maybe the old Rawlings motto said it best, “the finest in the field.”  Now go out and play!  And tell others.

He even cried out how he wished he had never been born, but in his turmoil trusted God and saw his mercy and grace at work, despite and in spite of the situation.  Leaving him with a patina of his love, that is shared via the scriptures today.  Suddenly patina can now be seen through the eyes of a loving God, who sees the imperfections and still loves us.  Today I bear a scar from having my aorta replacement, a scar that some would call ugly.  Unsightly, less than perfect.  But that scar shows the perfection of Jesus in my life, how without him I would be dead, and it is beautiful to me.  A reminder I carry with me always to remind me of Jesus Christ and his love for me.  Of my failures, and his forgiveness, my pain and his relief.  Of his mercy how he changed my heart.  Literally and spiritually. 

There are no clean stalls in my testimony, whether it be motorcycles, baseball gloves, or my life.  I have seen and continue to see the spirit at work in my life, adding patina daily.  And behind each imperfection a perfect heavenly father there with me.  Maybe that is why the smell of grease and oil, of racing castor still excite me.  Times when I look back on are precious, and imperfect.  When the struggles were present and I was not up to the task.  But my God was, and is, and will be.  Share the patina of your soul with others today, you are only original once, and there is only one Jesus.  You are that special to him, don’t you think that is a story worth repeating?  It is written how will they hear if no one tells them?  Clean barns make no money...and stay empty.  Hmmmmm.....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

motorcycle dating

My wife loves to take pictures.  And on our recent cross country trip took over 6500,  I still haven’t been able to look at them all.  But those I did look at, gave me a different perspective of our ride, most were taken from the buddy seat of our Tiger, and although she was less than 6 inches behind, there were times we were in different places at the same time.  And I began to see the trip through her eyes, giving it a new dimension.  Even to the point that I had to ask “where’s that?” many times, as I couldn’t identify the place at first.  While I had my eyes on the road, she had her eyes on the ride....and no, I am not willing to change places with her. 

But she saw many things I may have only glanced at, and through her lens it added much to the trip.  With a few items worthy of note.  She was in very few of the pictures, not a selfie type, the few she was in I took, so it was where we stopped, and I took them or when we asked for help, like the Park Ranger on Trail Ridge Road.  Proving I too was on the ride along with her.  Or was it her with me?  But this is not our first road trip, and not her first picture taking extravaganza.  And I insist of including pictures of the motorcycle we are riding, for two reasons.  One, I like pictures of my motorcycles in the places we travel, and secondly, to date the pictures.  Without putting a date on them, just by looking at the motorcycle were on I can tell the date and year.  If a red and white FJ1100 is present, it is from 1986-1996, a red Triumph Sprint, I know 2003-2006, but early 2006, as the Tiger 955 replaced it and a Sprint RS in March.  So photos taken from 2006-2016, it sets the date, and still not retired at over 48 states and 103,000 miles ridden.  Last year was the white Tiger, and for a while now our Tiger 800.  With over 8000 miles in four short months.  So whenever anyone asks “what year?” or my mind begins to fade, one look at the motorcycle in the picture can help date them.  Motorcycle dating you might call it, and it works for me, with only one condition, you need to get out and ride to be in the picture!  No ride, no pictures, no need for dates.  So get out and ride, and start your memory book today.

How many times have you looked at a picture and wished you were there?  How many times after hearing about a trip do you wish you could take one?  But years later only have the box of excuses that go with your lack of adventure.  Pick a topic, money, job, family, no bike to ride, they are all excuses, for we have travelled in all those cases, and still do.  So while some look at our trip pics, and while my wife takes them, we ride, and are in them.  Looking back encourages us to look ahead, and the trip planning mode of my mind is always on full.  Any article, TV show, or ad, makes me want to ride, and when shown pictures of someone there I know, only encourages me more.  I could care less about the selfie, but my bike needs to be included in those pictures somewhere, and the only way it is going to get in them is if I am on it.  And the solution is simple....go riding!

Throughout the Bible God gives us descriptions of people on the road.  From Abraham, to Jonah, to Gideon, to Jesus, and to Paul, these men didn’t sit still, they got out and rode.  They found life on the road, and excitement there. For the spirit of God was with them, and some were called to fight battles like Gideon, some were to evangelize like Jonah.  Some took the road to the cross for our salvation, and Paul took to the road to spread the gospel.  If they had a scrapbook, imagine what each one would hold.  “See, those guys really were fat and overweight and drank like dogs.  It was God who provided the victory.”  “I remember that bush, it sure was hot that day.”  “Oh yes, the street called Straight, what a precious memory, when my eyes were opened....” and finally a picture of an empty cross, then an empty tomb.  “You see I am not there as I said, for I have been resurrected, so you can be also.”  A picture that if he was in would not hold the same Biblical truths, the only question we need to ask is “where am I in that picture?”  Show me another of 99 and if I’m missing, I know Jesus is out looking for me.  So many pictures of Jesus in my mind’s eye, and in the spirit they come alive in the Bible.  And I see the ride through the eyes of Jesus, as opposed to my narrow vision.  God calls them testimonies, how many trips has he taken with you?  Do you share them with others as God asks?  Or is your relationship hidden from the public?  How do you date your life?

The work of God is to open our eyes to the endless possibilities of a life in Christ.  For some it may be weeks on the road.  For some the memories of leaving the hospital healed because of him are precious.  Some are locked down, but have an audience within the four walls, where walls of stone cannot contain the spirit of the Lord.  Take some time today and share some photos via your testimony, show others who and how you are in Christ.  Jesus is the ride we all need to escape death, and make it to heaven.  The only road, and I am glad I am on it. 

But sorry, no photos, for eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor mind imagined the things of the kingdom.  God has a private trip reserved just for you, and when he is in the picture, no photo would ever do them justice.  And there are no words to describe an infinite God.  And no matter what you think heaven to be, it will be even better.  Now are you along for the ride?   Can you make the trip?

Motorcycle dating is more than taking someone out on a date.  It reveals in my life where and when, who and how, and Jesus is always the why.  And the who.  The when and how.  No wonder John tells us that if all the stories were told about him no library could hold them.  Make sure you have a place on your shelf for him, he has one for you on his in heaven.  Even God took a rest after creating the heavens and the earth, just to look at his work and reflect.  And see where someday you and I would enter into it.  See Jesus though your own eyes, not someone elses.  And see why God had to rest after creation, and why we look forward to heaven.  One day Paul was in the spirit and saw heaven....and only in the spirit will we ever enter. 

She really took 6500 hundred pictures?  Yes, and each one tells a story, what’s yours?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com