not so wise men

It is the summer of 1974, and streaking is the latest fad.  In case you don’t remember, streaking is taking off all your clothes, and running naked through the crowd.  It was done at football games, baseball games, media events, and any place that the person would and could get attention.  Very rarely done by women, it was usually men who should have kept their clothes on, as both viewer and streaker were afforded eye protection by their covering.  But this one hot summer afternoon in Piscataway, we were hanging out when we should have been riding.  First clue that trouble was brewing.  The three of us were talking about motorcycles, women, and motorcycles, maybe not in that order.  When one suggested, that we should streak downtown Bound Brook on our motorcycles.  After a lengthy 2 minute discussion, it was decided we would, so we closed the garage door-for privacy, and stripped down, then took off the 3 miles to downtown.  Of course wearing our helmets, as New Jersey did and does have a helmet law, we didn’t want to get a ticket.  We hadn’t taken into consideration that the seats would get hot in the sun, or that all the bugs our clothing had shielded us from now hit us directly-and how they could get places no bugs should go.  We had successfully cruised Main Street once, and then turned around, no spectators or people anywhere, bumming us out, so we were heading home when the light turned red.  Being good citizens, we stopped, but so did the cop next to us-and the race was on, back to the garage.  Now we had a distinct advantage, that speed and fear of apprehension when mixed with adrenalin create.  And we rode at speeds close to 100 mph, braking hard into the parking lot, then unlocking the garage, pulling in, and slamming the door behind us.  As we struggled to get dressed, the policeman started banging on the door-and we got even more scared-we had never considered being arrested and taken to jail naked, so ignored him.  After repeated threats of breaking the door down-ah, the good old days, we finally opened the door, fully dressed, as the officer looked at us with amazement.  He knew what he had seen, or at least thought he did, now all he saw was three fully clothed riders.  And as he kept accusing us of streaking Main Street, we kept denying it.  And with our 3 against his 1, he finally left, threatening that he was watching us now, had our license plates, and if we even got out of line anywhere for any reason, there would be repercussions.  Whatever they were.  Funny because Bouke was already known locally, and had also driven his Corvette through the front door of the Grand Union, and our three bikes were unique-they were at least known within the biking community.  But we had ridden naked, outrun the police, won a confrontation with them, and were still alive to ride another day.  But never, ever would we ride naked again...we had become a legend as the word spread, with no photos to back it up, only an upset peace officer who was the only one to have seen it all...who would believe him?  You’ll just have to take my word for this one, as no record, photos, or spectators ever saw us...we were still a generation from cell phones, digital cameras, and Go Pros, but I wonder, hmmmm?  Nah...once was enough.

I fully expect people to doubt the Bible when I share it with non-believers.  But I am amazed at how when you add your testimony to it, that they believe your story.  That somehow your words carry more weight than the words of Jesus, or any scripture because you were there.  So I have found over the years, that sharing a testimony of what God has done for you in a similar situation is well received.  Like the song says, “what He’s done for others, He’ll do for you,” and they may doubt God, but trust you.  Go figure.  Which in itself makes no sense, but we live in a world where believing is seeing, which takes no faith.  Which in this day of Photoshop, to me takes great faith, as anyone can doctor their photo, or substitute it with another, with the viewer never knowing.  Placing it right up there with the letters I get from millionaires from Africa, who will trust someone they never met with their millions, if only you will help.  No evidence there, but yet so many fall prey to the lies.  It is almost like if it is too good to be true they believe it, but when it is true, they falter.  So don’t hesitate to share what Jesus has done for you...your testimony and the blood of the lamb leads to salvation.  And there is no better gospel you will ever know than your own testimony-you were there!  And so apply the same belief system to the Bible-the guys who wrote it were there, as was God who inspired it.  But it takes trust, not understanding, to believe, and to see lives changed.  Fortunately the change part is up to Jesus, you just share.  He has already provided you the testimony-although about you without Him you don’t have one, and He will provide the words when needed.  So why aren’t you sharing more?

40 years ago three not so wise men decided to go streaking on their motorcycles, and it became part of their testimony.  For the record, I wasn’t saved.  But yet it happened, and I was there, even if there is no evidence to prove it.   2000 years ago, based on insight from God, some wise men, the number never mentioned, travelled afar to see the birth of a savior, bringing gifts that were traditionally used for burial purpose to the baby shower.  Because God told them too, and today their story is recorded in the best selling book ever, and we hear it over and over again at Christmas.  Wise men were seeking Him then, and wise men still seek Him today.  But unlike Lexus and their pursuit of perfection, Jesus is reachable, and you can find perfection in Him.  He is the millionaire from overseas who promise riches and delivers.  Who while wrapped in swaddling clothes, burial strips of cloth, was already changing the world.  Someone rather than something to consider with your life.

Your testimony started the day you were born, and will continue into heaven.  In our two minute testimonies, it is 30 seconds of how we were, 30 seconds of how we were saved, and one minute of how Jesus has changed our lives.  Question and answer period to follow.  And we all have one...all works in process.  And like Jesus tells us, if all the stories were written, no library could hold them.  No web site ever created can equal what God has done and is doing, and wants to do in your life.  So keep your shirt on, and everything else...be more like the wise men than 3 not so wise men.  At least we weren’t breaking any laws that day, we did have our helmets on! Just ask the cop-seeing is believing, I wonder what his report stated that day.  Chased three naked men on motorcycles into a garage at high speeds....do I see a possible movie here?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

a marksman is known by his aim, not his arrows

I for one am glad that lane splitting, aka white lining is legal in California.  So much time is wasted in traffic, behind cars with only one person in them, that the open lane between them is often the only route to take.  And the CHP advocates it, even going as far as to say it is the only open lane you can see ahead in.  And I know that some have been hit by careless car drivers, but I have never seen it, and hope I never do.  And I usually try to maintain a constant speed, only once going over 55 when tailing a CHP motor officer at 55, and when I saw my speed backed out of it.  I rather get home safe-those guys are nuts-but man can they ride.  Which makes me wish I could ride that well, and get paid for it!  But not all traffic moves so well, and not all are cycle friendly.  Some are downright ignorant, and you wonder if it is the drivers, or the signs they follow.  Can’t they see the open lane?

I have experienced the following twice in Tennessee.  Both on I-40 going west, if it means anything.  A portable flashing billboard said “RIGHT LANE CLOSED IN 30 MILES.”  OK, so in 30 miles , I’ll get over.  Except that everyone was getting over now-causing a huge traffic jam.  So I just stayed in the right lane for the next 30 miles, and then got over.  Except I was the only one, as cars honked, drivers shouted, and you could tell that stupid was the order of the day.  I think of it as only common sense, not even close to lane splitting, but talking later with another rider, he didn’t get it either.  Seems you guys from California are nuts...seems we have the ability to lead and not follow.  And the sense to not get stuck in a man made traffic jam some 30 miles too soon.  Maybe another good reason God invented back roads for motorcycles.  Be warned if you are in Tennessee and the sign warns of a lane closure, you have a free lane fro another 30 miles.  And never once did I feel unsafe, as the traffic told us that no one was going to cross into our lane.  Add this to my favorite rides list....

On our Torches Across America ride in 2005, the last 90 miles into New York City was an escort of 3200 motorcycles-over 18 miles of bikes.  Great ride, great leading until we got to a fork in the road, and the leader took the wrong fork, backing up traffic for miles, and having to close the Holland Tunnel to let us all through.  He had followed the sign that said Brooklyn, our final destination, just forgot that Ground Zero was in Manhattan on the way.  But it all ended up well, another of my favorite rides.   Now the two ride examples have one thing in common, going where you were pointed, not necessarily the proper route as prescribed.  One followed a sign, the other guy didn’t.  It didn’t matter brand of bike, or size or horsepower-but it did matter where we aimed it.  Which proves more important than how you got there...or didn’t.

It has been said, and wisely so, that a marksman is known by his aim, and not his arrows.  When hitting the target is your agenda, it doesn’t matter how you get there.  Too much emphasis is place on the means of riding, and not on the ride.  What good is all the chrome and horsepower if it never reaches the street?  What good is a touring bike if you never tour?  What good is the most expensive and newest motorcycle if it never leaves the garage?  What are you aiming at?  And How do you plan on hitting your target?  If it is just to have the newest, some trade every year.  I had a friend who if he ever got beat, sold his bike and built another.  We were always glad to get his throwaways, his aim was different than ours.  The Harley catalog will be happy to keep you in chrome, as long as your credit card clears, and sport guys can wear out tires faster than they can be replaced, only to wear them out again.  Each one having a different target, effecting their aim.  So riders too are not know by what they ride, but how they ride, and where they ride.  20 miles and $20,000 doesn’t make you a biker, nor do the latest leathers on the most expensive Ducati.  When the flag drips, the BS stops, and your aim better be pretty good, because you will be tested.  And just because the sign says the lane ends...it might be in 30 miles of 300 feet-now how important is your aim?

Over the years I have been part of various evangelical events.  And each one had a designed purpose, an aim if you will.  Some were to feed the hungry, if they left fed, you hit your target.  But sadly some focus on return on their investment.  They run a free feed, hoping to fill the church, or for their club to grow.  And when it doesn’t feel they fail, and have no return for all their time and money.  God looks at things differently, and tells us that where our heart is, so will our actions take us.  The words from our mouth will express best what is on our heart.  That scares me, does it you?  Take a  look at your ministry actions, are they to fill a church, a Bible study, or to lead men to Christ?  What was Jesus’ agenda when He fed the 5000, to feed the hungry, or to win souls?  Read the scripture, you may be surprised-the crowd was starved!  So He fed them, and did it via a miracle that is still taught on today.  But many remember the meal, or how they got the meal, but how many remember how He taught while they ate?  They got fed two times, a feat we need to remember.  What was His aim, and what is it still today?  To meet the need...whether it be healing, meet the great physician.  Hungry, meet the great provider.  Lonely, meet the best friend you’ll ever have.  Lost, meet the savior, the Son of God, the Lamb who forgives your sin-Jesus Christ.  For He is a true marksman, meeting the need, His aim is perfect.  He knows when to lane split, and also knows when the sign says lane closed in 30 miles what to do.  He was never late, always on time, and always hit the target.  His arrows-love, forgiveness, compassion.  What arrows are you using?  And what is your target?  Aim low enough you will always hit it.  The target God gives just says love Him and then your neighbor, have you hit that one lately?

So just as a marksman is known by his aim, a Christian is known by his love-His love.  If God wants you to feed someone today, do it.  You have hit your target.  If He tells you to give away some clothes, to do a toy ride, or visit someone in the hospital-do it.  You have then hit the target God has given you.  Don’t worry about the salvation part, that is up to Him.  so like the scripture says, “as you go, make disciples,”  and preach the word daily.  Using words only when needed.  How many remember the 5000 being fed, but don’t remember the conversation Jesus had with Andrew, or Phillip?  Long after your words are forgotten, your actions will be remembered.  They will remember your aim, not your arrows.  And if done for Christ, they will remember Him. 

So if it needs to be done, just do it.  And enjoy the ride....even more.  Be blessed by being a blessing.  How hard is that?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

the company we keep

The modern day television is a remarkable tool.  In many households it is turned on when the first person wakes up, and then turned off when the last person goes to bed.  And in some cases turned on in the bedroom.  As a kid, I had a TV in my room, my grandparents got me when I was six and sick.  My whole world revolved around my friends on it, spending more waking hours in front of it than with my family.  Maybe by design as a favor to them.  But TV was our friend, and with the three network channels, and three local stations, you had limited choice.  Kids shows were mostly on the local channels, while soap operas filled the daytime line up for housewives.  But at night, it was all about prime time, and the talk the next day was catching up on your favorite show.  In this pre-VCR world, you had the choice of watching what your parents wanted to, or not watch at all, reflecting in the next day’s conversation at school.  A typical week in 1969 would have you watching Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-in, you didn’t want to miss the newest joke or saying Tuesday morning.  No Monday Night Football yet, that was a Sunday only treat.  Tuesday we could watch The Mod Squad-not at my house, or Red Skelton-whatever happened to great comedy?  And if staying up late, Marcus Welby, where the future Mr. Barbra Streisand rode a Triumph.  Wednesday night it was Medical Center and the real Hawaii Five-O, or in the cool households, Then Came Bronson-no motorcycles in my parents home, that degradation was still a few years off.  Thursday was Daniel Boone, and Dragnet.  Still can’t explain how someone so monotone as Jack Webb could be so entertaining, but it was, and still is today.  Friday nights, before dating was Hogan’s Heroes, and I always wondered how WWII vets felt about that show, comic relief of something that horrible-but at least we won!  And staying up late for various old movies like Million Dollar Movie  on channel 9.  I always thought their theme music was stolen by Gone With the Wind,  da-da-da daa...frankly Scarlet...

And then Saturday mornings-up early before our parents, and with Bruce and Barry watching Crusader Rabbit, Sky King, Fury, Roy Rogers, and wondering why couldn’t late night TV be so good as Saturday morning?  And then going out to play all day.  And now you have to tell kids to go out and play?  Saturday nights was Jackie Gleason, a great show.  My Three Sons, and Green Acres and Petticoat Junction.  How could CBS have fallen so far today?  Sunday nights was Ed Sullivan keeping up with rock music, The FBI, sometimes Disney, we were getting too old by then, and then Bonanza.  Who wouldn’t like to live on the Ponderosa, with only one thing missing-girls?  And then off to sleep, school on Monday, and repeat schedule-after homework, calls to girls, and out playing until dark.  It was tough being a kid, and it seemed the TV was always there.

But then there was Sunday morning...nothing good on TV, yet in my childhood years my parents never went to church, but they forced us to.  The stream of cars double parked outside of the church was a block long, all parents picking their kids up from Sunday School.  And I remember pretending to be sleeping when I really didn’t want to go.  But go we did, rather reluctantly, and would be threatened with not having to go if we behaved.  Which we always fell short of, so we had to go.  Now wearing a suit and tie vs. jeans and a t-shirt was and still is a no brainer, but dressed up we went.  And it was a learning experience that I would not repeat on my own sons, we never forced them to go, we encouraged them.  And because we went, they wanted to also, eve into high school.  And we found that the time spent there helped to mold them into who they are.  Not relying on the church, but teaching them at home, and then encouraging them at church.  Something about being in church with God’s people makes a difference, and it made a difference.  Now I have nothing against TV, but it influences us more than it should.  And often conflicts of right and wrong came down to TV vs. church.  And for us, going to church was the right thing, God was there, the Bible was taught there, and something we didn’t get from prime time TV was there-love.  The love of Jesus, manifested in forgiveness, shown with compassion.  Church attendance wasn’t used a threat for discipline, but we wanted to go, and grew from it.  Just like God says, “how great it is to be in the tabernacle,” we live it today.  Sunday mornings or Saturday nights occupy our schedule, not football games or movies.  And with so many channels, with nothing on, the competition for your time, and ultimately for your souls is a tough battle.  One we never thought we would have to fight.  Church on Sundays, time off the other seven days.  But a funny thing happens the closer you get to God, you want to spend time with His people, and church is a great place.  Not just for church services, but we used to gather on Saturday nights and fellowship, growing closer in Christ with each other.  Sunday was just the big get together, a special event, for every night we met we had church.  And soon came to realize we are the church, wherever two or three are gathered, Jesus is among us.

Where is God in your daily schedule?  Is it built around what is on TV, or what soccer game, or PTA meeting you have?  Or is it built around God, and then all else falls into place.  Where is He in your daily walk?  Is He fit in between your favorite shows, or is He your #1 with a bullet?  Scripture tells us that the wise man built his house upon the rock, and that that rock is Jesus.  What book do you spend more time in, the Bible or the TV guide?  Do you change services just to watch your favorite show or sporting event?  Or do you miss the shows that the others watch, and don’t know who or what is going on in the latest sit com?  TV should never be your #1 friend, or your source of information or friendship.  God planned things differently, but TV can be used to grow in Christ.  Too many good shows on...learn to filter the bad ones out, self control, the fruit of the spirit starts at your remote.  So what does your world revolve around?

Try a different perspective of life, try Jesus.  And attend church.  Something happens when believers gather, we gather around God’s presence and prayer.  The problems we struggle with can be answered by times in church with Jesus.  So what example are you setting for your wife and kids?  Are you part of the line of parked cars outside waiting, or are you inside being filled?  Do you quote Oprah more than the Bible?  Something missing from your schedule...could it be Jesus?

The company we keep tells a lot about us.  I tend to find a better class of people in church.  And as far as it being full of hypocrites, it isn’t.  We always have room for one more.  You’ll feel welcomed.  Sunday mornings at church can be the best time spent not in front of a screen.  Give up your remote and give it over to God.  Besides, you can always record whatever you missed, don’t be the one who wishes they hadn’t missed out on God.  God is on every night, same bat time, same bat channel.  Who says there is nothing on Sunday morning?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

what it was, was football

Andy Griffith had a hit in the 50’s with a parody trying to explain football to someone who had never seen the game, after his first impression of it.  “What it was, was football,” was funny, mostly because it was true.  A light hearted look at our new national pastime.  And then there are the Chargers, who may have benefitted from listening to Andy.  Finding ways to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, they were first and less than a yard for a touchdown to win the game.  No way they could lose-or was there?  First down was a replay of the running paly that they used to lose to the Raiders.  Second down was throwing a pass 5 feet wider than the field.  Third was throwing it 10 yards longer than the end zone.  They went into OT, then lost quickly, wondering what had happened.  A unique combination of wrong personnel-starting running back and fullback not on the field, poor play calling-an arm’s length from a score and you pass, and poor play execution, they displayed, with apologies to Mr. Griffith, that what they were playing wasn’t football!

My first year of college was at Union College, a JC.  No intercollegiate sports, but a tough intramural program, known for its competitive flag football.  Now we joined as ACE, a group of hippies, freaks, greasers, Viet Nam vets, and bikers, quite the opposite of the clean cut athletic types we were to compete against.  Add to that we were from a satellite campus, that once was a Mayfair grocery store, and we were a joke.  We went to school where the produce section used to be, and took English by the check out stands.  They even kept the old in/out electric doors-so much for the ivy halls some went to.  But we were tough, and at the end of the first game we were tied.  Our last time in the huddle, we decided that this one particular jerk was going to get his, so we all ran at him, and landed on him.  Game over-a tie.  But we had set a precedent for the season, as we tied every game.  Now we liked to think we were undefeated, but we also hadn’t won any either.  But more importantly, we decided that the last play of every game we would gang up and tackle one guy who was a particular irritant to us.  And as the season progressed, we learned that you weren’t allowed to tackle the guy first, then pull his flag, and tearing off a jersey didn’t count the same as a flag either.  And we also proved you don’t have to be on the field for us to go after you, as we proved more than once.  And soon opponents, and the officials were onto us, leading to our last game-forever.  Win Phillips, the AD was at the game, he had been warned about us, and the best ref was to officiate.  They would show us-and the contest began.  He cut us no slack, and when the game ended,  instead of chasing a player, we chased the ref to his car, where he locked himself in.  Blow your whistle now tough guy!  The last person we ever would get to chase.  And we had gone undefeated!  Just not sure what legend we left behind, that of the ref or of our perfect, undefeated season, but years later when I heard someone talking about the ref being chased to his car, I smiled-I had chased him.  What it was, was football.  Played our way.

My first time coaching football was a Pop Warner league, called Young American Football League, or YAFL for short.  We were the Rams and had a 4-4-1 season record, with the –1, the tie, being our biggest victory of the year.  It came against Bloomfield, who had the toughest parents, prettiest cheerleaders, and coaches who all had whistles and shirts that said “coach” on them.  They ruled with all the compassion of a drill sergeant, and they practiced, warmed up, and did everything with an emotionless vigor, almost like robots.  They would applaud each other after jumping jacks, and were as good as they were obnoxious.  We considered them ripe for the picking.  This year’s success story was one kid, who was so good, he looked too old, and it was rumored the coach kept a copy of his birth certificate if the players age was questioned.  We were more like the bad news bears, more bad news than bear.  But falling back on an old high school lesson, we put Jose in the position of Monster on defense.  His job was to go wherever this kid went-follow him into the bathroom if needed.  And Jose did, if not in on the tackle, his was the first face he saw when getting up.  Jose was always there, and even would follow him back to the huddle.  Jose was his shadow, and his coach and the kid didn’t like it.  They loved attention-just not like this.  And at half time Jose followed him to the bench-he was relentless, and the kid became paranoid of Jose.  Looking out for him, and losing his concentration.  We had shut him down, and soon the whole team was energized, with the opposing coach complaining as they went down to defeat-in a tie.  We bragged after that that we didn’t always win, but never lost.  The opposing coach called it unfair, they had never lost, but what it was, was football. 

Scripture tells us that Satan, our enemy is like a roaring lion, seeking to destroy  us.  To rob us, confuse us, and in any way intimidate us and rob us of our joy in the Lord.  2 Corinthians even tells how we are beaten down and persecuted for Christ.  But we win the game of life, even if we lose some battles in between.  Yet some blame Satan rather than praise Jesus, seeing devils in each trial, never seeing God, and never taking credit for their own sin.  They believe the lie of “the devil made me do it,” when he cannot make you do what you don’t want to do-it is your choice.  Yet through intimidation, can mess with our minds and draw us away from Jesus.  We get sidetracked from Jesus, like the running back did with Jose, and once you are confused, you start to find fault with others, starting arguments, and at that point you have lost.  It is someone else’s fault, when it is your decision to make excuses.  And like football, and like the Chargers showed us yesterday, you can have the wrong personnel-no Jesus.  Keeping Him on the bench in your daily life.  You can have the wrong plays, calling your own as needed, based on your judgment not God’s.  And you can have poor execution, giving up, not allowing God to finish the good work He started in you.  When you, not God become the play caller, you are inviting defeat.  And like our undefeated season, in which we never lost, we never won either.  Each game a battle that ended in a tie.

So when scripture tells us we run the race to win, hang in there. Life is not a sprint, but a marathon, and not just one play, but many that make up a drive.  And we need Jesus until the end, until the final gun, or trumpet in our case and we are called home.  Game over, victory, in Jesus.  So life can be like a football game, and the time is running short.  Choose Jesus as your coach today, and face any and all intimidation.  For He also tells us to resist the devil and he will flee.  Much different than blaming him-chase him away in Jesus!  Some contests end in defeat, some in a tie.  There is no reason to be anything but victorious in Jesus.  In a game of inches, don’t get it confused by measuring it in feet.  Missing by that much is still a miss-just ask the Chargers.  Fourth and inches is supposed to be different than first and inches.  Let Jesus lead, and you will find that you may not always win, but you will never lose.  What it is isn’t always football, but is always Jesus.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

does anyone have to ride a motorcycle?

Certain elements are necessary for life.  You must have food, air to breathe, and a place to live.  Clothes help too, just ask Adam and Eve, and if you forgot the importance of water, you’re probably not thirsty right now.  But certain things are needed for life, from sustaining to enjoying, from survival to success.  And among the basics I find something rather disheartening, the fact that no one has to ride a motorcycle.  Now 100 years ago before Henry Ford and mass production dropped the price of a Model T below a motorcycle, many did rely on them, and an argument could be made that they had to ride a motorcycle.   But the Model T negated that, and a whole generation, with many to follow, found they didn’t have to ride, but that they wanted to.  Where it once had become a necessity, now it was a luxury, and today still is a luxury-and to some of us a necessity.  You see we ride because we want to, not because we have to.  Many small cars cost less than some motorcycles, although you don’t find the comfort, performance, or the cool of a cycle.  Add in rain, cold, and social pressures-“you let your husband ride that thing?”  “Yes, I have one of my own,” and again you find we ride because we want to.  And like the t-shirt says, “if you have to ask, you wouldn’t understand.”  Besides it is hard to hear someone explaining to you in a full face helmet. 

And I find that those who do ride are a better class of people to hang around.   They start young with dads teaching kids to ride, and they learn responsibility.  They learn to take care of a bike, and make decisions.  They spend time with their families, and they all grow closer together.  Quite the opposite of many families I see today where the kids are afraid of everything, it might have sugar, it might hurt, you might get dirty, and you might have fun.  All the thou shalt nots that the world associates with Christians-a wrong perception, and doing it at home.  Following it off with a glass of wine to calm their nerves after a full day of controlling their kids, and never encouraging them to grow and be themselves.  Like dogs on a leash the kids never venture very far from the mom or dad who seeks to control something in their life, when they cannot control themselves.  And so I encourage parents to ride, to take their kids with them, and encourage them to watch their kids grow and explore things.  To watch them come home dirty, tired, worn out, and exhausted from too much fun-and they cannot wait to go do it again.  Fun is the one thing missing out of life, and with all the rules, no wonder kids go nuts and want to kill.  It is the ones who are the bookworms and never go out and mingle that are killing people-it is hard to fire a gun with your throttle pegged and hanging onto the bars!  Maybe a new form of gun control-teach kids to ride along with their parents.  I’ll vote for the first politician who brings that one up!

But motorcycling is a great life style, and is endless in its pursuits.  From track days to moto-x tracks to day trips to month long vacations, your wallet and your imagination are the only things holding you back.  But really, how much fun is riding, and do we really need to do it?  Like an old saying goes, “riding a motorcycle is almost as fun as sex, but you can do it more often.”  Remember when sex was clean and the air was dirty?  So I encourage you to get out with your kids, even walk through a bike shop with them, and watch as their eyes light up when you let them sit on one.  Take some riding lessons, and include your family.  And find out why dogs like to hang their heads out the window in the wind.  Discover the fun of watching your kids go off with friends and make relationships that last.  And watch as when all the prejudices and false impressions go away, you find you are free, and why the long way home on your bike is far better than car pooling in the fast lane.  Another form of control.  My son calls the bus the loser cruiser.  So does anyone have to ride a motorcycle-or does it just make good sense?

Years ago I had a friend, Pastor Rick, who after being a main line religion pastor for many years, got saved, and was forced to leave the church.  He had found freedom in Christ, a freedom no denomination could provide, and was a joy to be around.  He was too old to ride-not in our minds, but used to look at our motorcycles and say “that sure looks like fun.”  And looking at him, when he talked about Jesus, you thought “that sure looks like fun.”  And it is, knowing Jesus is fun, and the more commitment to Him, the more fun.  Some closed minded, and hard hearted individuals will try to deter you from Jesus, maybe steer you into a cult, or some false religion.  Anything but Jesus, just to rob you of your joy, and salvation.  They have preconceived ideas about God, and their opinions are more important than the facts.  You never see them encouraging others, just telling them things not to do, trying to control others when they cannot control themselves.  Worse yet are the ones who turnout OK despite themselves, and think sin and stupidity was the path to their success-or rather lack of complete failure.  It took Pastor Rick into his late sixties to find Jesus when He was there all the time.   He found Jesus to be that certain element to life that you cannot live without.  It wasn’t the rules, the church, or even his education-it was Jesus who gave him life...and eternally.  So what excuses are you making to not become a Christian?  Too much fun?  Can’t handle salvation?  I get it-you cannot control God, and think He will try to control you.  Why not exercise the choice He offers you that you do not offer other-the choice to make the decision about how to live your life, and find life in Jesus.  Only God offers you a choice, a true expression of His love for us.

Today is the day of salvation.  God’s words, not mine.  But I agree with them, as today many will come to Christ, their choice, and find love, life, and joy that nothing else could provide.  A choice that is the only way to heaven.  Or think about it like this, if you don’t choose heaven, you are choosing hell.  Now....you may want to reconsider.

I always like the looks I get when riding to church when a sedan full of clean cut family pulls up next to me.  Unaware of the freedom I have in Christ, no ties, no religion, and I can ride my bike to church.  No fussing with the kids who don’t want to go to church, or the wife worrying about what her friends will be wearing.  Or the husband upset because the Chargers are on.  They don’t get it, do you?

In a perfect world we would all ride a motorcycle.  And in a perfect world we will all be saved.  No sin, we are in heaven.  Now I ask you, does anyone have to ride a motorcycle?  No, we just get to.  But without Jesus we will never get to heaven.  Both require a choice-wise men still seek Him.  How wise are you?  The most fun you’ll ever have being dirty!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.com

for some there's therapy, for the rest motorcycles

“Look out for cages,” the homeless man told me as I pulled away from the light.  He had been admiring my Bonneville, and was telling me how in better times he used to ride.  And knowing what a cage was, biker lingo for cars, he must have been part of the community of bikers at one time.  But sadly, as he was talking of cages or cars, I thought about how he was in a cage of his own, trapped into a life that led him to begging on street corners, and losing his ride.  He was in more of a cage than many car owners, but that day I appreciated his warning...and like he said, “they’re out to get you.”  So I do and they are, and he still is, but at least I am riding.  Thankfully, for there but for the grace of God go I.

As my friend tells me his version of the Golden  Rule, He who has the most gold rules, I realize that so many people wish to control me.  Whether it is by money, rules, or laws to regulate me into complete submission, everyone is trying to rule over some one, just not themselves.  And it reminded me of many trips, spontaneous rides I have taken, just getting on my motorcycle and heading somewhere, with no destination in mind.  No one telling me where to go or when to be home.  The kind where time didn’t matter, as long as I had enough money for gas, a jacket for the cold, and a road ahead.  Just like a travel agent once remarked, after spending his whole life planning for others, but neglecting himself, “travel got boring, so I decided to travel.”  He finally got it, and no better way than on a bike with maybe a friend who gets it, but if none available, alone is just fine.  You see for some they find solace in $200/hour therapist, for those of us who ride there is motorcycles.  Give me the $200 and I can have quite a time, even a weekend, I can air out, clear my mind, and go places and be things no therapist could advise.  And one Saturday ride 40 years ago sticks out, for no particular reason, other than it defines cycle therapy.. Call it “cycle-logical,” if you have ever taken one you know what I mean.

BH and I were out looking for fun, and RT. 100 in Pennsylvania called out to us.  We had seen the exit for it by the Schaeffer Beer brewery man times, but thought more of the beer than the road in those days.  But today was different, and the road twisted, turned, and rode through mile after mile of corn fields, rising and falling like only a Pennsylvania farm road can.  Every once in a while an old inn or café/general store, and a cold Sasparilla in Pennsylvania Dutch country is what is needed to quench the thirst, after a huge pretzel of course.  But true to form, we met other riders, doing what we were doing, and soon we were farther away from home than we anticipated, but that was OK, now it was all about the ride.  And soon we started approaching Philadelphia as it got dark, and soon the fields had turned to urban blight, as we had hit the ghetto-no place for two white boys to be on a hot summer night.  Where is the dreaded freeway that we usually try to avoid when we need it?  And why when you are lost, is every light red, and every stranger a possible bad encounter?  But you are never lost as long as you are not out of gas.  Our ride of airing out how turned into a nightmare, especially after I hit a huge pothole, knocking the headlight out of its shell.  And having to fix it on a sidewalk, where a group of kids wondered what was that weird biker doing to his bike?  Shouldn’t that be fixed at home, in the light?  But riding on we did, and arrived home, safe, fresh, and refreshed, less than 90 miles from home, and it only took us 300 miles to get there!  Two tanks of gas, some hot dogs, pretzels, and sasparilla-what could be a better day?  Free of all who want to control us, and free to ride again. And again.  Free from any cages, and it all came back due to the homeless guy and his warning about cages.  How could such a down and out man have so much wisdom?   Or didn’t he even know it?

The word religion means bound, like tied up and bound, denying you freedom.  And since becoming a Christian, I have come to hate it when people refer to me as religious.  I am free, just as Jesus promises, being free in the spirit.  Anything but religious.  Jesus was not religious, that’s why the Pharisees hated Him.  Which really annoys those who are religious, and try to control us with their rules.  It’s like a man once told us in a Bible study, “tonight we are going to study freedom in the spirit, here are the rules.”  I wanted to scream, rules?  We don’t need no stinkin’ rules!  We need Jesus!  Rules or the law only pointed out our sin, and was all about our performance-grace is all about  Jesus and His performance on the cross.  “Lookout for cages,” He would have warned His friends, and for those who wish to control you.  Let’s make it personal-you and me, and enjoy the freedom to be yourself.  No wonder the Pharisees hated Him, they were so bound up in their rules they had no peace at all.  Over 600 laws, and any one they broke could bring them shame and discipline.  They needed Jesus!  Not the kind of God I wish to serve, and not the kind of God who wishes to serve me.  Curves, He leans with me.  Straights, He accelerates with me.  Brakes-He is there with me, and when my headlight falls out, is there to light the way.  Better than a cold sasparilla on a hot day.  With or without ice-your choice.  So why would anyone want to be religious when you can be free?

But with freedom comes responsibility, maybe that’s it.  Some need to be led, and enjoy not being responsible.  Like Nitro tells me, “a horse can be led to water, but a pencil must be lead.” But God tells us that He who has much, much is required.  Freedom requires responsibility.  An uncommon sense of common, and a love of God to guide you.  Not control you, but once you know Him, you find yourself thinking in His terms, rather than your own, and soon they become your own.  Freedom in the spirit-and to ride.

So for some there is religion, just like some need therapy.  They need to be told what, where, when , and how to act.  Jesus, likes motorcycles, gives us a freedom to be ourselves.  The religious call it boldness, we call it freedom and love.  Have you ever been accused of being to bold in Christ?  Maybe you need to let your freedom in Jesus shine more.  Make Him part of your life, be a witness instead of going out witnessing. So for those of us who ride and have Jesus, we don’t need therapy.  We are free, and like the scripture says, “he who is free is free indeed.”  Free to ride the back roads and end up in a ghetto.  Free to follow a road, just wondering where it goes.  And free to get to know the God who created the universe one to one, personally.  So He calls us friends, when is the last time you just went for a ride with your friend?  Jesus set us free from the cage of sin-look out for cages, they’re out to get you.  Wise advice from a man who was homeless, and it works even better with a man who spent His life on the road-Jesus.  Your hour is up, that will be $200 please?  For some there is therapy, for the rest motorcycles. Just don’t call me religious.  And don’t forget to bring an extra helmet along, just in case.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com