pit passes

It was just a temporary fence, the kind of barrier put up to keep the crowds behind it, but what a difference what side of it you were on made.  As a race team sponsor for SCORE, I was used to just walking into pit areas and being welcomed, but at the short course race tonight in Las Vegas, as the crowds stood watching, hoping to get a glimpse of a racer, and maybe an autograph, here I sat, on the other side of the fence.  They had no idea who I was, but the fact I was inside and they weren’t must mean I was someone important.  Which caught me off guard for a while, as I knew I wasn’t, I was just a sponsor, one of the many who it takes to make up the races, and part of many teams.  It was the sponsorship that had gained me entrance, that got me the special pass, that allowed me to be behind the scenes.  From going up to the will call window and getting the special pass, to flashing it to the security guard to let me in, after turning away other lesser pass holders.  I had all the posters, stickers, autographs needed, but what hit me was what the pass meant.  I was special, that pass allowed me entrance, without it I was barred from entering.  And sitting there eating from the prerace catered meal, with many first class choices, it took a group of race fans eating hot dogs to put it all in perspective.  I was more of the hot dog person...and they would never know that without the price of sponsorship I was one of them, they would never know just  how much that sticker on the car really cost. And no way was I going to give it up.

Inside the fence I was somebody, outside just another race fan.  But at the Baja 1000 in 1995, when I brought a bunch of friends from the SONY plant in Mexico with me, it hit home.  I knew many of the racers, as most fans do.  But cruising up a side street in Tijuana to avoid the crowds, I ran into Ivan Stewart.  Who when he saw me, called out to me, and we walked together, introducing him to my friends who were in awe.  He was their hero and just seeing the race was a big deal, but meeting him and having their picture taken with him was beyond words.  But it was a quote from Mario their supervisor who put it all in perspective, “you said you knew him, I didn’t know he was your friend.”  Ivan knew me, that was impressive to them.  That day they had gained access to the other side of the fence, a day they will never forget.  And because I was Ivan’s friend, he was their friend too, with the pictures to prove it.  All because I was their friend. 

Some cults disguised as religions deny the deity of Jesus Christ.  They tell how he is a created angel, a created being, and not the son of God, or God as God claims he is.  They portray him as a created being, an angel, when he is much more and needs to be given his proper place.  In Hebrews we read God asking “to whom have ever said you are my son?”  “Or I will be his father and he will be my son?”  We forget that angels were created, but that Jesus was begotten, having the same nature, while things created take on a different nature.  Therefore the angels cannot have the same relationship with God as Jesus does, but because of Jesus we can.  No angel can save, they are servants, or messengers of the gospel.  Jesus is the gospel brought to life, God made in the image of a man, so we can be saved and forgiven.  Yet many give too much credence to angels, claiming guardian angels watching over them.  How many bikers have an angel bell?  But how many realize that Jesus has power of the angels, and can command them at any time?  Are we friends of the begotten one or friends of his creation?  Who do you worship, who do you call out to in times of trouble?  No angel ever died on the cross for us, only Jesus.  Angels cannot have the same relationship with God as can the son, but we can.  And it all comes down to who you say Jesus is.

As Christians we have been marked by God in a spiritual way, he identifies us as his.  Writes our name in the book of life, gives us the holy spirit, and sends us out to proclaim the gospel.  Yet like at the races, many only buy a ticket to the event, and never gain access to where the action is.  But in Christ, we gain entrance into heaven, with all wisdom of God available, no longer servants, but friends.  An eternal pass that doesn’t need renewing, but that does need upkeep, as any relationship does.  And by his spirit, we will be with him for everlasting.  Maybe the difference between heaven and hell is which side of the fence you are on, inside and safe, or outside wishing you were in.  Simply put, the gates of hell do not keep people out, they keep people in, they want to escape the terror and pain.  None of them have the pass that gets them into heaven, but God offers it to all who still are alive and breathing.  He wants to be your friend, will you be his?

Is a sticker on your car the only thing that identifies you as a Christian?  Does church attendance or membership mean to you that you are gong to heaven?  Or have you met Jesus, and been given a pit pass to heaven?  Racing passes get you into the pits, his pass saves you from the pit of hell.  Jesus paid for your pass, all you need to do is pick it up, will call is waiting.  When people meet you, can they say about you, “I knew you were a Christian, I didn’t know Jesus knew you?”  Jesus knows my name, and calls me friend.  Can you say the same?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

Lord I wasn't born a Rambler man

For the first 17 years of my life, my main view of driving came from the back seat of my parents succession of Ramblers.  Looking out the windshield between them, or mostly looking out of the side window, it was all about to change when I got my driver’s license.  My parents never drove very far, the longest trip was to my grandparents some 60 miles away, mostly on Route 22.  I never knew if it was east or west or north or south, when we got to it we turned left, good enough for me.  And so Route 22 was the focal point of my travels early on.  Amost memorizing the Jersey stretch after years of boredom.  Route 22 was America, or maybe all that was wrong with America, from the Flagship, an old night club that looked like a battleship, to the Leaning Tower of Pizza diner, with a real leaning tower out front, it was also home to Two Guys, a discount Jersey chin of department stores, Korvettes who took its place, and the first shopping centers.  Going toward Pennsylvania, west, you passed HoJo’s, Eber’s, various old tourist cottages and motels, and many stop lights, this was also like an old surface street as we would call it today.  Pass the Texas Weiners, the numerous diners, a Jersey staple, and finally giving way to farmland, all within 35 miles.  Farm stands selling corn and dairy products, and into Clinton where the women’s prison was, something tough to figure, weren’t all women like our mothers or teachers?  How could a woman be bad?  Down Jugtown Mountain, into Phillipsburg, or Pburg to the locals, a hamburger, french fries and a Coke at the Key Diner, across the bridge and you are in Pennsy.  And Route 22 continues, all the way into Columbus, Ohio....

But once I had my license, I was on my way out of town, of course on the road I knew best.  Stopping at the places my parents passed by, eating a Texas weiner, a kosher hot dog sold by a Greek owner, eating 15 cent burgers at Steer Inn, and passing the only place they did stop, Ho JO’s for dinner on Friday night, for fried clams.  I checked out Great Eastern Mills, the antidote for Korvettes and the best place to buy 8 tracks, and cruised carefree at 60 miles per hour, in 45 zones in heavy traffic.  Such was Jersey in the sixties....But reaching Pburg it was always a stop at the Key Diner, where we would meet my Grandpa, but never the Turnabout just down the road.  But always a stop at Jim’s Doggie Stand, move over Texas Weiner!  With so many memories of the road and the places and the faces...seen entirely different from behind the wheel than from behind the front seat.

An old friend of mine and I were talking about safe Christians the other day, the pew fillers who do nothing else but support whatever the church says, and confuse Jesus with the church.  Many times slaves to whatever the pastor says, and developing a religion mirroring scripture, but denying Jesus.  They spend their entire Christian lives like I did when riding in the back seat of the Rambler, just seeing what I was supposed to see per the driver, and any suggestions or comments dismissed or ignored.  As reflected in their prayer life.  And a cursory interpretation of the gospel.  Staunch believers, but like Agent 99 used to say, “missed by that much.”  Their Bibles are found clean except for a few pages highlighted, and are known by reading the weekly Christian book advised by their pastor.  A life of legalism, void of the spirit, with no tolerance for the truth, only what they were taught.  But not always how they lived. And when trouble comes, they are tossed about like the waves, going wherever the waves or wind takes them, with a pastoral staff unequipped or unwilling to help.  Seems they still spend too much time in the back seat also....on Route 22.

It has been said our true character shows when we are alone and facing danger.  Two weeks ago today a man and wife we know faced calamity.  He professing to be a Christian, raped and murdered three women, and shot one in the head, raping the third while she bled to death next to him.  The details are unclear, but for two days he stayed home, his wife not knowing her husband was the killer, until the house was raided and the police arrested her, thinking she had to know.  For 12 hours facing their wrath, discovering her husband not the man she thought she knew, and being grilled mercilessly.  I cannot imagine her emotions, or state of mind, but after 12 hours was released as she was innocent.  She had faced her trial by fire, promoted from a back seat to being in the front seat, and the scriptures now have a new meaning to her.  Suffering from PTSD she now can see the suffering of Jesus in a new way, but also his mercy.  When faced with danger, she clung to Jesus, although she was screaming for her husband when she was abducted at 5 am.  Why didn’t he answer?  Now she knows....and the critics are lining up advising as to what she should have done.  “I would have...” as if you know what you would do given the situation.  She has received obscene phone calls and death threats....gaining an insight as to how Jesus felt when wrongly accused.  Only the truth of knowing her set her free. 

You see when I finally got out and drove by myself, I saw the world differently.  So it is with Jesus.  When we follow him instead of a denomination, a pastor, a writer or a teaching, we know the truth.  He is familiar, and we know where to turn, just as Jesus turned to his father.  Until Jesus becomes real on your life, you will never experience the depth of the scriptures, the comfort of the holy spirit, and know his peace.  You may work in the church, volunteer, and be known as a Christian, but until scripture becomes more than the rote answer, until it is spirit driven, you may be saved but miss out of the on earth as it is heaven part of Jesus.  You may have every answer until you find you haven’t heard every question.  You may pray beautifully out loud, feed the hungry, and give to missions, but until Jesus is Lord of your life, you are wide open to whatever may come your way.  That higher power is not always Godly as one group claims.  Only Jesus can solve the biggest problem of man, sin.  Religion may suggest, Jesus knows first hand.  And for those of us who have had our character tested in times of great stress, we know only Jesus is the way, only he can rescue.  Your church, your beliefs, your religion may not guarantee your name in the book of life.  God keeps notes on us, read Malachi, not because he forgets, but so we have an album to look back on.  Remember this Mike...” as I spend time with him.  Funny how the toughest times are the ones we look back on fondly and see how Jesus worked it all out.  Beware, your time of testing may be coming, that 5 am wake up call when least expected. And you will be tested....

The first lessons you get when saved will shape your walk just as the first roads you drive will shape where you go.  When children we were taught as children, and acted like children, fed the milk of the gospel.  Now as adults we need the solid food, the spirit, to nourish us.  That morning our friend’s life changed forever, but she still has a forever to look forward to.  She will get by, but only in Christ.  I know having been there and tested.  Which can be summed up in one sentence, “all I know is Jesus.”  If God is only your co-pilot, you are better off in the back seat.  That’s not lordship, only with Jesus behind the wheel will you be assured of getting to where you are going.  Unless Jesus is the lead dog, your views will never change....so glad I wasn’t born a Rambler man.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25bikr.blogspot.com

and on Wednesday it rained

The Rockies are beautiful anytime of year, but in the fall when the colors change, they will even outdo Vermont for beauty.  So I invited Dick along to ride, and we did a casual 2200 miles in six days.  almost what most people do commuting, but we rode it in four states instead.  At 108 across the desert, it seemed summer was still alive in Arizona, but riding up through Show Low, and then into Albuquerque, the pre-balloon festival skies were beautiful.  Perfect weather, in the 80’s, slight wind and low humidity.  Then off to Santa Fe via Chama and Santa Fe the back way, trying to remember Madrid before Wild Hogs, and it became a biker tourist trap.  But after riding all day into Durango in t-shirts and sun, the weather report called for rain, and a high in the forties in Silverton.  The same day we would ride the Million Dollar Highway, and all the colors would be at their fullest.  Cool, jacket weather took us into Silverton at 9310 feet, even the Harley store selling shirts as the highest Harley dealer in the US was closed.  No rain yet, and leaving and going over Red Mountain Pass we still were only in winter jackets.  A few drips, but no rain.  Even cruising through Ouray was dry, surely the lower elevations would be kind to us.  No rain at Ridgeway, but when stopping for a Hershey break, we put on the rain suits, and just in time.  It began to pour, then stop, but riding behind big SUV’s in no passing zones on slick roads kept us in the rain coming off the road and cars.  Rolling into Telluride, pretty but too yuppie for me, we saw dozens of adventure bikes, seems the weather won’t stop them, but even more surprising was the amount of riders in groups on Harleys and Gold Wings riding in the rain, groups large enough to be seen in So Cal on nice days.  These guys obviously ride....

But the rain continued to pour, and the temp dropped as the rain dropped.  My meat thermometer on my handlebars read 43, cold is one thing, cold and wet in another.  But you ride on, and with no place to stop, we continued down from Rico, cold, hungry, wet, but safe inside our rain suits.  Hoping and praying we would be OK.  And then it happened...a huge buck ran down the hill and into my path, with no where to go and I knew it was impact time.  But as suddenly as he appeared, he stopped mid hill, turned and ran back up!  All in a few feet and a millisecond.  Even Dick riding behind thought I was a goner. It was another 45 minutes into Dolores,and stopping for gas until it all hit me, or the fact it didn’t hit me.  I was thanking God, and later he would give me insight into the miracle.

In his own loving way he explained how he allowed the near accident and miracle prevention to show how he had everything under control.  How he was with us, and not to worry.  In the midst of the storm, he was present, controlling not only the rain but his animal creations too.  So often in prayer we get overwhelmed with asking we fail to see the one we are calling out to, in this case he gave us a visual to remind us.  We all know the story of Jesus walking on the water in the midst of the storm, to me God made it personal, stopping a 1000 pound buck on a slick downhill, and abruptly turning him around.  Just in time.....as always. 

Sometimes we get hung up on Jesus on the water, we forget his promise to the disciples before they left.  “I’ll see you on the other side,” and they took off, him behind.  Them struggling in the storm, him walking on it, through it, not around it.  But just as they let him into the boat, we find they are on the shore on the other side, just as he promised.  God very rarely tells us how, so we cannot argue, but his promises are always true.  And even more important, when we leave this earth, when we cross over to the other side he promises us eternal life.  After going through the storms of life, much different than our prayers of stopping the storm.  Many times no storm means we miss God, we went for the colors, God showed how he created the colors, but had control over all of nature.  All for us, and to give him our praise.  When he gets the glory, we get the blessings, and he blesses many times first, as he did that day.  And on that Wednesday it rained, the next day sunshine and warm never felt so good.  An easy ride across New Mexico without touching I-40, missing it in Arizona too, and then the ride from Prescott and home.  Cool and hot, dry and wet.  2200 miles of fun and fellowship.  And Jesus rode along.  Remember him next time you pack, and never leave home without him.  See you on the other side.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com