just a generation ago...

I was talking with some guys from my age group the other day about how I rode without a clutch cable when it broke on my old 1978 Suzuki. The general consensus was no big deal, we all had done it at one time or another. But since Teflon lined cables now are the standard, we can't remember when was the last time we broke a cable. Which shifted-no pun intended, to the different bikes we have ridden, and the different way they shifted. Thanks to the Federal government, since 1975 all bike shave shifted on the left, down for first, then up for the rest, with neutral between first and second. You can now get on any bike since then and ride. If you know how. Six speeds being the norm now, a far cry from Harleys in the sixties with only three speeds. And riding used to be more challenging-more manly if you would.

Triumphs and Nortons would shift on the right. Triumph one down, the rest up. But Norton was one up, and the rest down, which could make for exciting moments-one was enough for me. When Bill installed Dunstall rearsets on his CB750, it reversed the shift pattern, GRAB THE FRONT BRAKE! Came close, but never hit anyone. My friend Lello had an old Kawasaki 100, with a rotary transmission-N-1-2-3, then would repeat, N-1-2-3! Many times went looking for 4th, only to hit neutral-then slide sideways as bike locked up going into first. But most other bikes would shift on the left, so the government made the rest of you shift our way. Perhaps the final battle lost in the English motorcycle wars. And at old bike meets it is funny watching some young kid figure out why the shifter is on the wrong side. He must be post 1975 himself. But somehow we all made it through those years where whatever we wanted to do was right, and you actually learned to ride-or get off quickly.

Honda and some others actually made an automatic, drove one once, but you still had to shift, on the left, just no clutch. S-L-O-W.....And no need going into landing on a trunk when the early Trident I was riding needed to stop, and I hit the shifter instead of the brake pedal, exiting the bike over the bars, damaging my ego, and not the bike. Poor guy I hit probably lost all interest in riding that day,too. Bottom line-learn to ride!

Now I don't actually think that standardization is wrong in the placement of shifters, but it is in other areas. The Bible warns us that in the last days, there will be a universal church-one religion for all. Which sounds good until you realize it won't include God. And the government will regulate it. Even the Vatican has come out recently telling us we need one religion. Not a new idea, but one for the end times, and anti-Christ will declare it. God has always given us the ability to choose, starting with Adam and Eve-although there are consequences for bad choices. True love demands a choice, that is why God doesn't force us to follow Him. It is our choice not to go to hell. He just gives us the choice. But sadly some wish to burden us with laws and legalism, for our own good. But really just to show themselves as superior to us-at least in their own eyes. But never God's. For living under the law and legalism is contrary to Jesus-you cannot earn your salvation, you cannot make God love you more, and last time I checked, He doesn't want our help. It is finished means it is finished. All done. By Him! We just get the benefits when we accept Him.

Don't fall into the trap that the US fell into years ago. They were going to build a safe motorcycle-another legacy of the Carter Administration. And they almost succeeded except for two main points-someone would have to ride it, and it only went backwards! Sadly Congress is still going backwards, yet never learned to ride. So learn to ride, and enjoy the ride before some do-gooder who can't tells us how to. And get close to God-NOW! Before some not-so-gooder tells us how too. You cannot legislate bikers on how to ride, and you cannot legislate morality. Both come from the heart! You can't make following Jesus standard, but you can make the choice standard! Choose Him today before it is taken away. Look out for Sharia law, it is coming, with the anti-Christ. My best advice, and backed up by God-choose Jesus now so you won't be here when it happens. Just like the Beach Boys sang about their little Hondas-"first gear, it's all right-second gear, hang on tight-third gear, outta sight! FASTER-it's all right" 45mph never felt so fast or so good!

Jesus and riding-no matter which side you shift on, make sure you ride with Him. Enjoy the ride. For where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty. Before the next generation wonders what freedom was really like! And there is no one left to remind them.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the seasons of love, part 5-death

Two years ago I was in two motorcycle accidents in one year, I was hit twice, neither one my fault. And a well meaning friend was curious if God was trying to tell me something by my accidents? Like give up riding, because it is dangerous. So while visions of careless women on cell phones, drinking lattes while they should be driving, and under the influence of children flashed before me-a daily event for those who ride and try to dodge them, I simply answered, "yes He did. He reminded me of how some women should not be allowed to drive cars." Which is the truth, one had turned in front of me without looking, then yelled at me while I was pinned under her car, and the other woman had a suspended license. She hit me when I was right in front of her! Not the theological answer he was pursuing, but truth none the less.
After church one Sunday morning, a man saw my Triumph shirt and started telling me he had an older Bonneville. He loved to ride, but his wife wouldn't let him. My first thought was how can a man with such great taste in motorcycles have such bad taste in women? Then I met her, very attractive-until she opened her mouth. He introduced me to her, saying I rode, and then she proceeded to tell me how dangerous motorcycles were, and how as a Physician's Assistant she had seen too many riders who were seriously injured. That was it-she was going down-40 years of stupid "motorcycles are dangerous" comments were coming to an end that day. I even tried to lighten the tone of the conversation, by telling her how I used to be in the medical field, I used to be a patient. But this not quite a doctor just stared. So I told her, "I'm really glad to meet you, because I have a medical question." Now she was interested. "I have had four friends in the past two months die in their sleep. I would think that this makes sleep a very dangerous thing to do? Is it safe for me to go to sleep tonight?" Her silent glare told me more than any words, before she grabbed her husband and stormed off. Him smiling, hers, a little less than any smile I've ever seen.
Now Frank and I have discussed how we are not afraid to die, but not quite sure about the process. But sleep? If we had a choice of how to die, which we don't, isn't that the number 1 preferred choice? But sadly, although sleep may be the process, it is the where you land after death that is more important-more important than how.
Two thieves were crucified with Jesus. One turned to Him, and repented. Jesus assured Him that He would see him in paradise that night. He had avoided hell by accepting Jesus-right now was the closest to hell he would ever get. But the other thief denied Jesus. And although just a few feet from him, this was the closest to heaven that he would ever get. Same question, same Jesus. Different answers. One man's answer condemned himself, the other man's answer saved him.
Death is a one way door-forever. No handle on that door from the inside to escape. think about that before you fall asleep tonight. You have no promise of tomorrow. But Christians do-we have the promise of heaven, so if we die before we wake, we know that we will wake up with Jesus. Think of that before you fall asleep tonight, just might change the way you pray, or start you to praying. Jesus is the way to heaven. And He doesn't send you to hell-He died so you don't have to go. Your answer should be obvious-but it is still your answer. Will you trust Jesus with your life?
God has given those of us who ride a passion for it. I don't wish to drive around in some vinyl lined, econo-box death trap thinking I am safe. That ain't life. Life is for the living, and how I live is up to me, how I die is up to God. I cannot choose the time, the place,or the method. Timothy tells us to fight the good fight, to keep the faith, and have a good conscience. Good Godly advice. Works whether riding or sleeping. So don't let the sun go down on your anger, or your fears either. Or your ignorance. Trust God. For a good night's sleep and all the rest. And if you happen to be in the medical field, I pray that you rest peacefully. Sleep can be a dangerous thing. I bet she never realized how safe riding a motorcycle really was? I hope next time she is offered a ride she accepts, and see what freedom in Christ is all about.
Good night.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the seasons of love, part 4-summer

This is pure supposition, and I really have nothing to back this up as I wasn't there, and don't know anyone else who was, but I believe it was summer when God created the earth. It only makes sense, everything was in bloom, the skies were bluest, it didn't rain, and they didn't need clothes. And since God is love, and made us in His image, and He is a summertime type of guy, I like to think it was summer, and that is why summer is always the most romantic of seasons. Long summer nights, warm summer days, and for those who happen to be young the prospect of meeting someone and falling in love. So I always entered summer with great expectations, somehow the girls from other schools, other towns, or someone's cousin made them more exciting, and more attractive. Add the thought that your romance may end when you go back to school, it makes each day, each date, and each time together special. Not a new concept, but one that goes way back.

It is 1945, July, and WWII is almost over. A generation of teens who have endured the Great Depression, WWII, and now are faced with their last summer of freedom-next summer will be graduation and jobs, maybe college. But for this summer, love will be in the air. July 13th, Friday, was the night that two teens met. Though living in different towns, somehow the three miles between them had kept them separated until that night. He was a senior, polite, well mannered, and dressed nice. She a cheerleader, and next year's head cheerleader. They met out at the park, at the concession stand. And after talking over Cokes, may have used any remaining nickels to ride the carousel,listening to the calliope. And maybe not that night, but on some nights would sneak off to the picnic area, and sit alone with other couples wanting to be alone together. They never knew it, but that night started a relationship that 66 years later still endures. 60 years of it in marriage. 57 years as parents, 31 years as grandparents.

When my parents married, my dad had joined the Air Force, he called my mom and they decided to get married-hurriedly. Not because they had to, but because they wanted to. My Pappy even commenting when my mother told him she was getting married asked, "why would you want to marry that jerk?" If only he knew. A simple wedding, with a cool reception. Was your mother cool enough to serve Oreos at hers? And that was all the details we had until last summer when visiting. My mother was telling the story of how after they married, she found his little black book, and blacked out all the names. Except for one, Mel. She couldn't understand why he would have one men's name among all the other women. When my father remarked, "Mel was a girl, short for Melanie," we all laughed until we cried. And as it turned out, Mel was the last girl he dated before he married!

When I counsel young people, or before I perform a wedding, I let them know about the commitment they are about to make. You may not always be in love, but honor the commitment. It is worthwhile. And in a society which either shuns marriage, we'll just live together to see if we get along, who has kids out of wedlock-remember when they used to be called bastards?-or either divorces because they can't get their own way, and don't get along, my parents and many others in their generation honored that commitment. A commitment that sets an example for their kids, and grandkids, and continues to as they take care of each other in their golden years. Sad, but when I visit divorced people, they lost more than a spouse-they lost a partner. They broke their vows, and now have lost part of themselves-a part no significant other, girl/boy friend, or live-in can ever appreciate. For those who have honored their commitments have the security that it brings, and includes God. Who by the way, hates divorce. Take a look around at the broken families-do you need more evidence? If you are divorced, look at the damage in your own life.

But God forgives, can you? He can rebuild, or renew. Would you let Him? Young and foolish is one thing, old and stupid, and lonely is no way to go. I have been them all at one time or another-lonely is a way I would never wish to go alone. I am honored by my parents that they have honored their commitments.

Which makes me wonder whatever happened to Mel? I only hope she found the right one for her. I'm glad she was just a name in a book. Just glad it wasn't my dad. I've gotten quite attached to him and my mother. 66 years is a long time to be friends, but I guess when you marry your best friend you have started off on the right foot. And that is why summer is my favorite season, and perhaps the best season of love. But anytime you can spend with your best friend is time well spent. They have over 264 seasons to show for it.

My son Christopher tells me "it is tough raising parents." He's right. So I think the best advice I can give to mine is I love you. Thanks for the memories, examples, commitment, and love. "Out park" never sounded so good.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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the seasons of love,part 3-spring

Theresa wanted to live in a cabin, in the mountains, so we moved to Vallecito Lake, 27 miles from Durango, at 8300' altitude. It don't get more mountainous than that. And as we learned, the Rockies get a lot of snow, 500" the first winter, but only 300" our second. Meanwhile...I had bought a new 1981 KZ750 from my friend Tom in Salida. Using Don Atencio's truck, I had picked it up in November, and stored it in the basement, which was accessible from the lower level, and there it had sat-all winter! With only 20 miles on it, and the 6 month warranty running out soon, I was concerned the warranty would run out before winter would!

Oh the pain of it all! But the hope of spring kept us going. Too bad it takes so long. But many succumb to the cold, below zero as a high, the snow, and the cabin fever. I couldn't ride, but I at least could go sit on. So I did, with the hope of an early spring keeping me going. And sometime in April, my impatience was rewarded. We had some days in the 50's, then the 60's, and the snow was melting fast. And when it got down to only about two feet deep, I couldn't stand it any more, and decided to dig a path to the street. Simple, you say. Well...we lived about 100' off the street, down a steep hill, you could sled on it, and the only access was an old BLM road that was so bad the ruts were a foot deep. But I could see the street-nothing was going to stop me!

So I was up early, and digging a three foot wide path to the street-and freedom. Which seems easy, until you do it. Essentially you are digging a long, deep rut with two foot walls of snow surrounding you. At noon, I had gone all of 25 feet, and was sore, tired, impatient, and not sure if I would make it. Those were the good things. But I had help, reluctant at first, from my wife, who started digging with me. Now the old saying that a job and a wife have been the ruin of many a biker isn't true of her. I had a good job at Coke, and a great wife who loved to ride. All the encouragement I needed, although a D-8 Cat would be nice. So we finally got to the street, just before dark, and it was time for the bike. The plan was I would ride it up the path we made, which meant it had to start-which it hadn't since November. To our amazement it started right off, and then backed it out-only to find I needed to dig more so I could turn it around. Excitement had interrupted my sense of planning. At this point I was going to get to the street even if it was my last conscious act. So here I finally was-pointed up the hill, bike running, and took off!

Now does the expression "slicker than snot " mean anything to you? If not, you have never encountered Colorado red clay-which is "STS!" And with water running in the ruts from melting snow, and fist sized rocks lining the bottom, it was a hill climb of the first degree! And after a few runs, never made it more than a few feet. Thou shalt not repeat the words from my mouth.

Remember that old saying about the biker and his wife-well this wife came to my rescue-pushing while I tried to hang on, bouncing and twisting up to the street. While mud, rocks, and cold water mixed with snow pelted her. I was so busy on what was ahead of me, I didn't see her getting nailed by all the above, and when I hit pavement, took off for a few miles. I was free! The official start of spring had begun.

With my adrenaline still pumping I returned, and I was shocked to see her. "What happened to you?" And no flowers or candy, well maybe chocolate was going to make this situation better. She was covered with mud, in her hair, her face, her clothes, and when she went to take a shower even found it in her underclothes. Amazing stuff-mud. But the bike was free, the weather was nice, and spring was in the air. Even if it was also all over my wife.

God shows us signs of the seasons, and while we wait patiently for spring to arrive, we still have to endure winter. Some get impatient, wondering if it will ever arrive, struggling through cabin fever, wondering if the promise of spring will ever arrive, then forgetting how bad winter was when it does. As Christians we are patiently awaiting the call from heaven, with the sound of the trumpet to call us home. The rapture, as we call it, has been promised for 2000 years. And while some grow weary, even wondering where is God in this promise, we who remain wait faithfully. For just like the signs of spring, when we see them we know we will be riding soon. Winter will be gone, and our waiting is done.

Today the signs are all around. Watching the news headlines is like seeing scripture come alive. Winter will soon be gone, and spring will be here-expressed in God's love as we all arise to heaven. But we must be patient, as no path digging, or early season snow melting helps it along. Signs won't get you there-only Jesus will. God's timing is perfect, and Jesus is patiently waiting for the sound when we all are gathered with Him.

And unlike my new bike warranty that would expire in time, no matter if the bike was ridden or not, God is faithful, His promise to us never ending. Be patient-endure to the end like we did. And remember you are not alone. God sent me the prefect helper that day-Theresa. And she remains to this day-although that was the last time we ever dug the bike out. We were ready in the future-prepared for what spring promised us. We moved to Southern California.

Get right with God today. Springtime, aka the rapture could happen at any moment. Don't miss any riding time, aka time to share Jesus now. Waiting to dig out the bike will be too late. We are closer today than we have ever been before.

Springtime in the Rockies, all because Theresa had to live in the mountains. And I couldn't wait to get my new bike out. Jesus is coming soon to get us out! Let this lesson be the push you need to rise above your situations and be ready.

MARANATHA! Truly spring is all about love. Just for that, I think I'll go riding. And thank the Lord.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

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the four seasons of love, part 2-winter

Cathy and I got to be friends after she broke up with her boyfriend and started hanging out with our "gang" again. She was was very pretty, with long brown hair down to her waste, and also my friend Joe's sister. In these BC days, before Christ, I was very wild, and when we started getting to be friends, she was warned. I was told. But being independent, she was fine, as I respected her, and also for the fact that not Big Brother, but her brothers were watching. There was always the constant reminder of "not with my sister" hanging in the air, but we became close anyway. Never quite boyfriend/girlfriend, but we spent so much time together that a casual observation might lead you to think otherwise.

We lost touch after I got saved and moved to Albuquerque, but when I drove back to Jersey with my best friend Terry and his sister, Geralyn, my first call from my parents house was to Cathy. It was Christmas break, and she came right over. Something magical was going on between us, and we spent ever waking moment, and some non-waking moments together. Christmas was in the air, and talked of getting married. Things seemed so right that Christmas, and even Lance thought we would make "a fine Christian couple," although it would be less than six months until she was saved. Even Joe thought it was a good idea-so the planning began. And it was fun, until we discovered one obstacle that we couldn't overcome. My life was in New Mexico, hers was in Jersey. And neither one of us would move. And then it became evident that although the feelings of love were there, it takes more than feelings to be in love. We decided to wait, which is just like saying nothing is like saying no. It was my first experience with God telling me no. And my first lesson on what no meant. It meant that He had something better planned for me. A lesson He would repeat to me many times again.

Pastor David Jeremiah tells the story of two people who went to his church. We will call them Barbie and Ken. Ken was handsome, talented, and destined for greatness. Barbie was pretty, smart, and both loved the Lord. The story around the church was what a great couple they would make for God, and they planned to get married after college. But at the last minute, before the wedding, Ken had a decision to make-the hardest one ever. His heart was in ministry-in Africa, and Barbie wanted to stay home and have kids. So much in love, but also in love with God. A few days before the big event, and it was to be BIG, Ken told her that he could not abandon the dream that God had given him, and unless she wanted to go overseas, he could not marry her. She understood, and through the tears they both went on with God.

Ken prospered in Africa, starting churches, and keeping in contact with his home church. His contact was a young secretary, who we will call Betsy. He and Betsy got close during letters, phone calls, and on his first visit back. But you could tell something special was between them, and the girls wondered, dare they set them up on a date? Which turned out to be the best thing for them. They fell in love, and got married. Betsy shared Ken's dream for establishing churches, and at the time I first heard this story, some 20 years ago, they had started over 150 churches in villages where no Jesus had been before. Together they were a mighty team for God. But it took a no from God, that was followed by a mighty yes to bless them both.

My yes came just in time for that next Christmas. And I will be celebrating my 35th Christmas with my wife and best friend this year. Like Ephesians tells us, God gives us more than we could ever ask for or ever imagine-and He delivered with Theresa. But it took that no, and even coming so close with Cathy, for God to get my attention. With Theresa I have the perfect partner, we both love Jesus, minister together, and ride together. Like the old Turtle song says "I can't see me loving nobody but you, for all my life!" And that's how God has made us. Happy. Together.

Jesus, Theresa, and motorcycles. It don't get much better. And a lesson on God's love,and how no means something better yet to come. For it is true Jesus is the reason for the season-and He has given me a wonderful wife to remind me of that every season. Every day. For love is more than emotions, it is a person. Now that's love-that's Jesus.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogpsot.com

the four seasons of love, part 1-fall

Unto everything there is a season. The Byrds taught us that in the sixties in their song "Turn, Turn, Turn." So many sang it and even quoted it, never realizing they were quoting the book of Ecclesiastes. A season which brought Roger McGuinn, lead guitarist to the Lord. A season where he first fell in love with Jesus. A time he learned that love isn't seasonal, but eternal.

The first year being a sophomore in our town meant going to the high school, we still had junior and senior highs in those days. And as scary as it was, the stories were told of how sophomores would be singled out and sometimes beat up, we went warily, but excitedly, being the underclassmen, as we were no longer the big shots like last year. That day had passed. And on the first days of school that fall, we noticed many things. Girls in particular. They had all grown up over the summer.
The once time tomboy with braces, somehow had turned into a woman, with curves and everything. Her hair even had style, and as you looked at yourself, you still looked the same, and as you stopped to talk to her you realized with her new found beauty, she now had confidence-which scared you! Was she going to give me all the grief I once gave her? Even her braces were gone, no more "tin grin" jokes here. Truly you had to look at her from a new perspective. You had to act mature, even if you weren't? I can still feel my face breaking out. How bad did it really show? Do you think she noticed?

But taking time to meet her, you found her to be nice, and forgiving of you, and wondered if she was always that nice. Her mother later would tell you her little baby was always this sweet. You found opportunities to sit by her in class, maybe even walk by her locker. And you knew her friends, and sadly she knew yours. Hopefully you had grown up enough to not act like them. Then the word got out she thought you were pretty cute, which only brought out more zits in the excitement, and after stressing and with the help of lots of Clearasil, you asked her to the dance on Saturday night. The first big dance, with a live band, and it was advertised "Stag or Drag." And once someone more sophisticated than you, one of her friends, explained drag meant a date, you understood the discount. Which if she said no at first, would be your fall back position, "see it would make sense to go together, save a buck." So when she said yes the first time, and you didn't have to go to plan B, it was almost disheartening, for you had practiced all weekend, never thinking she-beautiful and grown up, would go with you, zits and all. But she said yes, and the five days to Saturday seemed like they only took two weeks. Good thing Mom bought you the BIG tube of Clearasil!

After going in with her, and trying to talk over the loud music, you realized you were going to have to dance eventually. Sadly your whole history of dancing was with your friends, who would make fun of the others. Panic time! But you asked, something cool like "wannadance," all one word, she accepted, and found out later she was just as scared as you. Maybe all that cold sweat was for nothing! Note-extra Right Guard next time. And then they played a slow dance. The time you had dreamed of. As you put your arms around her, while concentrating on your feet, so as to not step on hers, you felt her next to you, closer than ever before. She even felt like a woman. And as you put your arms around her shoulders, she put hers around your waist. HEAVEN! This was too good to be true! She was hugging back! And she wasn't my aunt or my mother. And for the next three minutes, nothing else in the world mattered. Did the music really have to stop? And as you two went to sit down, you were exhausted, you didn't know slow dancing took so much energy. Then she took your hand-and held it in hers. So you squeezed it back, she smiled, and no words could express the feeling-you liked her-and better yet, she liked you!

The rest of the dance was a blur, as it went so fast. Good times always seem to do that. And when the dance ended at 11, she had until midnight to be home. And you used every minute of it to walk her home, not wanting to want the evening to end, making every second last. Holding hands. Finally a kiss-WOW, and then home. She said she would call to make sure you made it OK. And even though you would face your parents wrath for being late-you were to be home at 1130, it was worth it. Time can be so short and cruel when in love.

Your whole life changed that night, as later she would wear your ID bracelet, and sit with you at lunch-without your friends to poke fun at you, they were so immature. There would be weekends at the mall, bowling nights, Saturday afternoons at the football game, where she thought you were so smart knowing so much about sports, and the pizza parlor after with friends. Homework together only an excuse to see her. Even holding hands on cold evenings with gloves on was special. She was your first love, and although there would be others, she would be the one that all others would be compared to. Hopefully she too, would remember her first dance, first hug, first holding of hands, and then her first kiss. And you hoped it would be the kiss all others, including her husbands, would be compared too. For fall dances meant new love, and a whole school year with her to enjoy it.

When you came to Christ, the time came when you discovered how much He really loved you. More than a sentence to death in Sunday School, or having to go to church, now you wanted to. With others who were saved also. And the change in you was dramatic, just like when you met the girl who was transformed over the summer. You still looked the same, but inside beat a new heart. With new attitudes, that caused new actions. And life was worth the living, because Jesus lived in your heart.

But somewhere along the way, life interfered, and the light dimmed with Him. He didn't change, you did. And as you did different things, you found yourself comparing them to Jesus, as your first love. And nothing ever compared to living for Him. Even though you tried, cars, girls, vacations, and even motorcycles couldn't take His place. He was your first love. So if you find yourself singing this tune today, it's time to return to your first love. Come home to Jesus. He will welcome you with open arms. He misses you too. And you will wonder why you ever wandered from your first love.

First loves are like that. You will always look back fondly to your first girlfriend. Some call it the good old days. But Jesus tells us these are the good old days. And they stretch into tomorrow, next month, next year, and into eternity. Roads that don't end, with the one who first loved you along-Jesus. Return to Him now, so many roads, and so little time. But He knows, and provides eternity-to ride with Him.

Romance may come and go in a season. The love of Jesus lasts forever.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

would you like fries with that?

Every once in a while, I just want a regular hamburger. Nothing fancy, just a burger patty between two buns, with ketchup. Maybe a slice of American cheese. So when I get the look from the waitress like Jack Nicholson did in Five Easy Pieces when he tried to order toast, I know I'm in trouble. Why would you want just a burger when you can have a peanut butter/gourmet cheese/range raised/gluten free bun/with organic ketchup and organic onion and tomato? You have to ask? Veggie burger or some turkey parts thing-that's unconstitutional! Yet, we have become a designer oriented society. Continually coming up with new recipes-I will avoid the improved or so called better tasting here. It seems that we have become bored, and are trying to improve everything from coffee-now it's latte, to burgers. But some of us still like the old stand by-a burger, fries, and a Coke. It don't get much more American than that. Cue to America the Beautiful. "Oh beautiful for hamburgers...."

Now you can order your gourmet burger-you mean the rest of us up to our elbows in Double Double aren't gourmets? Excuse my paper napkin! But in addition you get trendy names, they get to charge more, and more than once I left still just wanting a basic burger. Not the Super Wally, or the even more Yuppie sounding Sonoma burger. Now we have steak burgers-ever hear of Steak and Shake-been doing it for over 70 years? How about a Portuguese Whopper, or a Monterey Burger? Can you even find Monterey on the map? I had a Mercury Monterey once. Isn't Portugal as a country going bust? And please-don't give me anything else named Mc Something. Gag me! While I get Mc Sick. I used my coupon for a free cheeseburger at Wendy's the other day-NO plain hamburgers were listed on the menu? What would Dave Thomas say? Wasn't he the one who told us the most important bites of the HAMBURGER were the first and last? Built a business on that, too.

Even White Castle-"Buy 'em by the bag!" has BBQ now and veggie burgers. Tommies will give you extra chili for no extra charge. "The regular" they advertise. What will the next generation tell their children? "Yes son, we used to have hamburgers, but no one wanted them anymore. They were like the Diet burgers you like, except they had meat. Let me show you a picture of one-hear they even tasted pretty good too." Seems fries have gone the same route, now you can have them with cheese and chili-YUM, Boardwalk fries, crinkle cut, Tater Tots, fresh(the others aren't?) or steak or thin. Want a Coke? Is that New, Diet, Zero, Classic, Cherry, Vanilla, or any diet variation of them? No wonder it takes so long in line. Never has ordering food taken so long, or been so exasperating.

Sadly just as we are losing coffee counters, burger stands, and the real thing-Coke, we are also facing the same dilemma in church. Just read the signs out front. "The friendly church" as he tells me I can't park my bike there. Any various combination of names including Baptist. Maybe they should put the infamous Rodney King saying on their sign, "why can't we all just get along?" And so it goes, from orthodox to fundamental, to liberal, to apostate, to New Age. Every generation tries to improve on what it felt what the previous generations failures were. True, no denomination was ever started thinking that it would do things worse-somehow without God it just ends up that way. Churches got religious. That was one reason they hated Jesus-He wasn't. He spoke the truth. No diet theology here. No give me a #2 without salvation. No supersized promises that no one could keep. You mean the Bible doesn't say that? He spoke the truth. Simply. Called it the gospel-good news. And it still is today where it is not only preached, but practiced. No coupons, free gifts, or two for one promises. Just the simple truth-we sinned and need a savior. His name is Jesus. Do you want to be saved, say yes to Him. No-go to hell. Your choice. Much easier than ordering dinner at a burger joint?

When you accept Jesus you get it all. Love, joy, peace, and patience. No picking from a list, takes too long. And you would screw it up anyway. "Let's see today, I don't have time for patience. Wish I could tell you how humble I am. Do I really have to screw up to get God's mercy?" I feel so glad that none of us go to the first Church of Pinocchio. We would never talk like that.

So just give me Jesus. Straight up. The way He has been for over 2000 years. Don't change the formula, don't add rules. Don't even tell me where to park. Or where to sit. Just give me Jesus. You can keep your rules, I'll keep my morals.

Funny, I don't recall when Jesus fed the 5000 fish and bread where he said "will that be fried or broiled? White or wheat? How many in your party? Or that will be $$ at the drive up."

Original is still the best. From burgers to Jesus, the gospel still means good news. And no matter what you add doesn't improve on it.

Now, does anyone know a scripture about chocolate milk shakes?

love with compassion,

Mike

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