have you talked to your kids about death?

“Space...the final frontier...”  who hasn’t heard these immortal words of Captain James T. Kirk, aboard the Enterprise on Star Trek, the only real Star Trek.  But although he comes close, there is one final frontier that all human beings will encounter someday, one which we don’t like to or don’t want to talk about, death.  The death rate on earth is 100%, no one escapes it, yet no one talks about it until forced to.  Which usually occurs when a friend, family member, or celebrity has died.  Followed by a service, usually referred to as a funeral, but today “celebrations of life” have become popular among Christians, for we know that death is only the beginning of eternity for those who are saved, not the end of life for those who aren’t.  And even the word death is avoided when possible, he’s gone to a better place, passed on, not with us any longer, and others are used, all having a form of truth, but the real truth being the person is dead.   Yet that word death is something we will all face ourselves some day, don’t you think we should know more about it?  Have you ever talked to your kids about death?

How many times have you heard or even said or been scared to death?  Yet we rarely hear we are scared of death, which we really are.  I guess you can be scared to death, but really most are scared of death.  It is a great unknown, and no one is around to tell you what happens after you die.  We are told in the Bible, which mentions death almost 400 times, that the dead in Christ shall rise, and even Lazarus was resurrected after being dead 4 days.  But it never tells of where he was, or what happened for those 4 days.  I have heard some scholars refer to him as the same Lazarus of Luke 15, whom the rich man stepped over every day, and who begged Lazarus just to dip his finger in the pool to put a drop of water on his tongue.  And no one ever asked him, or is it recorded what he had to say when he returned.  So what happens after death, where your soul ultimately goes for eternity, is based on faith, no second chances, no reset button, no do overs like in kickball, death truly is the final frontier.  And why can we believe more about Star Trek than what the Bible tells us about death?

Jesus tells us that “I would not have told you if it were not so,” as He talks of hell.  Jesus who even died a physical death, not a spiritual one, and was resurrected, as all believers will be someday, knows and talks of death.  He tells us that those who believe in Him shall never taste death.  That they will pass from death unto life, avoiding death. But what happens, how, when, and where are only up to God, not us, and as I have found out personally, you have no say in it.  You cannot add nor subtract days from your life, but you can add quality of life to them.  And death is as simple as falling asleep, and even then Paul tells us that “we all won’t sleep,” that an event called the rapture will occur taking many to heaven before they die a physical death.  Something we all as Christians hope happens to us, again because although many believe, they are still afraid of death.  Or as Frank and I once discussed, “we are not afraid of death, we just aren’t real sure about the process.”  Maybe that puts death in an even more realistic life, because we also have no control over the process.  The ultimate blow to pride and ego, which when surrendered to Jesus will assure you heaven.  So what are the two choices of a final destination, of your final frontier?

All men are born into sin, and fall short of the glory of God.  Blame Adam, but since him, we all fall short.  And because of the spiritual death of that event, we all are born destined to hell.  Babies, who appear innocent are doomed, ever teach a baby to cry, to yell “mine?”  Yet God in His mercy protects them, unto an age of accountability, which the Jews feel is the 13th birthday, but no age is given scripturally.  Aborted babies, others dying in the womb, all go to heaven, avoiding earth and it sins.  Religion cannot save you, nor can your church, parents, belief system, or being frozen.  Only Jesus has the power over life and death, and the gates of hell are not to keep you out, but to keep those who deny Him in.  The gates don’t save you from hell, only Jesus does.  So don’t you think on such an important topic, one we will all face, we should know more about it?  Personally I have come as close to death as you can come without dying, so as the scripture in John 11:4 tells us, “this sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, so the Son of God may be glorified in it.”  I can tell you heaven is real, beyond description.  I have seen Jesus, yet cannot describe Him, how do you explain the infinite to a finite world?  Using finite words?  So we are told that eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor imagined, so whatever you imagine heaven to be, it isn’t.  It is better.  But also whatever you think hell to be, it is worse.  I have always cast doubt on those who see a bright light, and other scenes.  They saw something, but it wasn’t heaven.  The only way I can describe what I saw and heard is I want to go back.  The only conversation I had with Jesus, the peace was beyond comprehension, and I thought I must be dead, and so I asked Him, His answer was “you most certainly are alive.” Yet some will believe my words easier than those spoken by God.  And live in fear, when they don’t have to.

So death has a place in everyone’s life, and we revere it so highly, we have funerals.  And personally, I have never attended one where the deceased wasn’t the best person, taken too soon, or deserved to live.  It seems in death, we are forgiving, when we really need to be in life.  To ask Jesus, whom God sent to reunite us with Himself, to save us from our sins, and promise us heaven.  Yet many will choose to not believe, and even in hell, scripture tells us a harsh truth.  Again Luke 15, the rich man in hell, now showing compassion, wants to go back to only tell his family about hell, but God tells him no.  If they don’t believe the prophets, they won’t believe someone sent back after death.  And it is true today, as God has sent His spirit to tell us, to warn us, yet we deny the same Jesus who died to save us.  The one whom the prophets foretold hundreds of times.  So your test is easy, life or death?  Jesus or denial?  Only available when you are alive, and tomorrow is not promised to anyone.  Today will be the day of salvation for many, yet the day of damnation for others.  How sure are you about death?  So sure you bet your life on eternal pain, darkness, and separation from God, heaven and glory?  If you deny God, He will honor you request, and deny you on judgment day, which we all will face, and the truth will be made visible.  Deny God, it is hell, but in torment you will know for all eternity, you will know who Jesus is, and was, and worship Him in utter agony, for every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord.  So you will end up worshipping the one who could have saved you, but you denied.  When you could be in perfect peace, full of joy unspeakable, and in the presence of a loving God.  Has anyone ever talked to you about death like this?

Your decision has eternal consequences, choose Jesus now, while there is still time.  Death can come upon you quick, no one wakes up knowing they will die today.  Your life is not your own, but in the hands of God.  Place it where you are assured of heaven, and enter the final frontier looking forward to seeing God face to face.  It takes about 15 minutes to read this, but can have a lifetime change of direction.  Take the time to tell your kids about death, but also life.  Death...the final frontier....where life doesn’t have to end.  You don’t have to be scared to death, for us it just begins.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

when did it first happen to you?

For me, it was in the 9th grade, or really the summer before 9th grade.  Maybe sooner, as I had seen motorcycles around, but being raised in a home where no rode, they were taboo, and too much of bikers being hoods permeated.  Certain friends had mini bikes, all made at home with aid from fathers who were cool, but that summer I was included when my friend Bill built one.  Mr. Dempsey, who worked for Alcoa, had a chrome moly frame built for him, an old lawn mower gave up its engine, and an awning cover covered the piece of foam that was the seat.  A scrub brake came from somewhere, and soon we were riding all over Scotch Plains.  Looking cool to guys who wanted, but couldn’t have like me, and girls smiling and waving, something I had no chance of happening without the two wheels under me.  It wasn’t not a motorcycle, but was as close as I was to come for years.

Ricky and I had been friends for years, off and on, but when he dad bought him a Honda 50, and installed the kit to make it look like a motorcycle, off  I rode.  Coming home every night for dinner, bruised, dirty, tired, and making up excuses for how it all happened, no one rode in our family.  And as Ricky got a Kawasaki 125, then an Ossa Plonker, I started to ride bigger bikes, dreaming one day of a Sportster, which was once described as “so much power it will put hair on your chest, and if you have hair part it.” When face hair and chest hair met maturity, I just had to have one, if the girls liked the mini bike, jus the idea set my hands and glands on fire.  But being talked out of a Sportster at Bill’s house one day for lunch, his dad had a friend who worked for Harley, and told us not to buy one, that AMF had just bought them out, and quality would surely go down.  My first taste of HD and AMF, and I had never ridden yet.  There would be more mini bikes, Dave had a fast one we rode when we should have been in school, just daring the cops to catch us, but it was my senior year, BH and I hooked up over his CL77, painted dark blue with a brush, but still a real motorcycle.  305cc’s of power, straight pipe, and we rode everywhere we could on it, and would take turns pushing it home.  We actually got very good at it, pushing and riding.  But by March of 1972, ready to graduate and without a bike, a trip to Ralph’s Honda in South Orange changed all that.  VIP Honda was our first stop, but Ralph’s being a non-authorized dealer, could beat there price by $50, but no warranty.  Who cared, Hondas never broke, and if you did, you met the nicest people.  So for my $825 of paper route money, a new 1972 CB350 K4 was my first official bike.  And soon BH added one, selling his CL77 for $50, and off we rode.  Everywhere and anywhere, gas was cheap, 75 cents to fill the tank, and soon the shore, the Poconos, and even New York State was on the itinerary.  We rode until it got dark, and many a night was spent sleeping in a leather jacket under a tree.  Once we even woke up in a front yard, but we didn’t care-we rode.  We carried our toothbrushes in our back pocket like Robert Redford in Little Fauss and Big Halsey, and tried to be cool like Captain America and Billy-I was Captain, American flag and all.  My first bike, which lasted only 5 months and 6000 miles, and then a new 1972 BMW R60/5 came into my life.  But it was that Honda that changed my life, and set me free.  And looking back at bikes for sale in 1972, Yamaha had a 360cc, a scrambler, we had no Suzuki dealers by us, but who hadn’t heard of Solo Suzuki on the radio, and the Kawasaki dealer was about to come out with a  3 cylinder 250, patterned after the Mach 1!  The fastest bike on two wheels, 12 second quarters, and if the Sportster parted your hairy chest, it was only in the wake of a cloud of two stroke smoke, and a deafening ring-a –ding-ding!  But that was for the older guys, we were cool with our 8” rise in our handlebars, and my sissy bar, with a pad should I ever get a date.  Which always had a helmet attached to it via Peter Fonda, metal flake and ready for action.  Which it often saw.  What a time to ride, and be riding.  And soon 600cc, then 900 cc, and soon over 1000cc of power would move my soul-a far cry from a 50cc lawn mower with an awning covered seat.  But the dream was real, and still is today.

Like many of you, church was a four letter word when growing up.  My parents were not church attenders, as were many others, and Sunday meant pretending to be asleep, faking a sickness that you recuperated from at 10am, or out right throwing a fit, making them pay.  Why should you have to go if they didn’t?  Another wait until you are 18 decision, just like drinking and smoking.  But putting on a tie, we went, and finally gained a reprieve after playing Jesus in a play.  My father felt I had earned the right by then, sentence suspended, but you’re still not going to ride.  But looking back, Sunday School wasn’t so bad, I learned to play chopsticks and the Black Rabbit’s Revenge on the piano, I learned the books of the Bible, and actually met some guys I would later spend time in detention with in high school.  We were active enough Mr. Curtis once threw a Bible at me, I ducked it hit another kid.  Big news in the Baptist church.  But as girls got more attractive, some time was spent chasing them to church.  A gospel for another time.  And in high school, some local churches put on dances, the only other times any of us went.  So you can imagine my parents disbelief when I became a Christian, and wanted to go to church.  And prayed, and started getting my life together in Jesus.  It was all too much, and today they still think it is a fad I picked up in California.  My Dad has gone to heaven, saved just before his death, please pray for my mother.  And to ride a motorcycle and be a Christian-that really puts the church folk into horror mode.  So when did it first happen to you?
Since you were born, the Holy Spirit has been telling us we need Jesus.  If not in church, while riding, partying, or even in school, Jesus never left us.  How many times do we look back, and see the grace of God rescuing us before we were saved?  He even loved us while sinners, or why else would He want to save us?  To punish us like some think, or to bless us?  I was never forced to ride, but always wanted to.  Forbidden fruit, but I was forced to go to church and didn’t want to.  But now when it is my choice, I want to.  And I get too.  Remember that next time sharing your testimony, Jesus never forced Himself on anyone, it is your free will to choose or accept.  God sends no one to hell-Jesus died so we can be rescued.

And if it hasn’t happened to you yet, what’s your excuse?  Maybe you aren’t cut out for the freedom of riding a motorcycle, but all are cut out for the freedom in Christ.  You aren’t getting religion, or joining a church, you are becoming part of a family, you are being set free from religion.  And you can even go to church if you want, no one will keep track if you don’t.  But like I found out, I wanted to be with God’s people, wanted to learn about God, and read the Bible.  And now I can, and do.  Freedom to decide, it’s my choice, and yours, only found in Christ.  The one thing you thought would bind you up, will actually set you free.  And you find out we are the church!  Maybe today is that day, you can turn to Jesus right now, right where you are, you don’t have to be in church, or wear a tie.  Ask Him to forgive you, and ask Him into your life.  Find someone you know is a Christian and tell them, and start a new life in Christ.

40 years later, still riding and serving a loving God.  Let it happen to you.  Think I’ll go for a ride.  Time well spent with a loving God.  Christians and bikers-real rebels in a world of sin.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

just singin' in the rain

Record rains swept through So Cal this past weekend, with Escondido setting records.  Rainfall on one record setting day was 0.05” of rain, or about the thickness of paper.  Yet it set a record, and of course, we were out riding in it, just not by request.  But people ask “what happens when it rains on a motorcycle?” and the answer is simple-you get wet.  As if we have the same safety and security as they do while steering in the rain, one hand on the wheel, one on the cell, radio and AC on, dry and secure.  While the only thing between us and the downpour is a rainsuit, if you are smart enough to put one on before it rains.  They are still effective after you are wet, you just don’t get that safe in an SUV effect.  But over the years I/we have been caught in many rain storms while riding, here are some that stand out.

Riding the Tiger on I-70 outside Xenia, Ohio the sky in back is so sunny that it blinds me in the mirrors, while ahead is black.  And then it pours, so I decide to get off, only to find a Mazda hood deep in rain at the bottom of the exit.  Knowing not to stop I keep going, and find safety for a while under a gas canopy.  And then the bowling alley next door gets hit by lightning....good thing I had my rain suit on.  Later on that same trip, after leaving Bro. Willie’s in Nashville, I encounter severe storms in Oklahoma.  After eating at Lucille’s in Clinton, I talk with some Gold Wing riders who are suiting up, while I go west into the rain.  Before the next exit, it pours, and when the wind blows a semi pulling dual trailers across two lanes, I get off, meeting other bikers putting on our rain suits under a truck stop.  Then on again until I cannot see, and get off, again rain so deep it is up to the Triumph lettering on my tank.  But I keep going, finding solace in a Route 66 museum, while the Tiger is soaking in the rain.  Later when it stops, the winds blow so bad for 200 miles I wish it would only rain.

I had spent the night in Fargo, and when it rains mainly on the plain, it pours.  Suiting up, I ride to Dickenson, over 200 miles away, in rain and wind so bad the sides of my tread on my tires are scuffed.  Dry inside, the rain stops and so do I, as the temp drops to 39 degrees into Montana, and the warm rain is missed-or was my mind so fried that the rain wins out over cold?  Theresa and I left Madison, Wisconsin in the rain, she suited up, me after 10 miles and one good downpour.  Pulling into the Machine Shed Restaurant in Oshkosh, by gosh, when I took off my rain suit, my crotch was soaked.  And walking through the restaurant for one of the best buffets ever, it looked like I had wet my pants.  Parents giggled, and turned their kids away, we just laughed to ourselves.  Theresa dry, me....well you get it.

I was to meet Rex in Prescott, and we would ride to So Cal.  It was clear when I left Durango, but by Arizona it was torrential rains.  I kept on to Verde Valley, finding a room where the manager let me put my KZ750 under his porch, and I called Rex.  Who had called the Arizona Highway Patrol to look for me, but by the next day, the sun was out, and I was dry, and we were off to San Diego.  Coming back after riding Highway 1, we were to meet in Durango the next week.  But it was that next Sunday when I read of his obituary in the paper.  Rain couldn’t stop us, but his over enlarged heart could.  The only ride I never finished with the people I left with.  A different type of rain ended that trip.

And there was the Labor Day last minute ride to Dayton, on my R90S, rain and cold for 1500 miles, most in the dark, getting lost when an Ohio patrolman found me, and led me back to the freeway, “people disappear here and are never found.”  Riding from Ft. Lauderdale to New Jersey with Por Favor on the back, who melted his shoes on my Dunstall pipes trying to keep warm, again the R90S.  The ride in Jersey, when pulling up to a stop, we look up and a bug dump truck driver offered us a roll of paper towels.  He must ride, he knew how much they helped.  So maybe that deluge of 0.05” inches wasn’t much, but only Theresa’s second ride on her own bike in it.  And we made it home OK, dodging rain again the next day.  With always the same wonderful smell after the rain, the air clean, flowers greener, and my bike filthy.  Amazing how 15 minutes of rain can take 2 hours to clean up after.

John B. Sebastian sang “I’ll paint rainbows all over your blues,” and even God gave Noah a rainbow to remind him of the storm he had gone through.  A sign of God’s grace, and how He never left Noah and his family, but rained down judgment on those who turned against Him.  It takes a storm to produce a rainbow, but like God they are really there all the time, it just takes God light to shine through the skies to produce one.  ROYGBIV, all the colors of the rainbow, a thing of beauty.  But it takes a storm to reveal one, and in life it takes a storm for us to see the glory of God.  We don’t seek Jesus when things are going good, but let it rain, and all who ride pray for dryness.  For it is in the storms of life that we seek Jesus, and whether He calls us out of the boat, or calms the storm with His breath, He is in control.  Sometimes the storms are self induced, we never took the storm warnings seriously, and paid the price.  Sometimes it was the time of the season, but we rode on anyway.  Sometimes we were caught by surprise, but they never caught God by surprise.  And in every storm He is that rainbow wanting to show you mercy and grace.  He is like Ester Sunday, you cannot have it without Good Friday, it takes a storm to fully reveal God’s grace.  Yet we pout, complain, and get upset when it rains on our plans.  The Bible tells us that the “rain falls on the just and the unjust.”  It shows no partiality, and while some pray for sunshine, farmers and others pray for rain.  And living in an arid area, we get excited when it rains, for like the fragrance after a summer rain, Jesus is the same in our lives.  Always there, in the midst of the storm, but we fail to see Him, so God gives the rainbow to remind us.  And into life rain must fall...only He truly knows if you are the just or the unjust.  Just imagine the smile on Noah’s face, telling all those aboard, “look up in the sky, all the colors.  God’s majesty.”  After the storm.

And so I am reminded of a Gordon Lightfoot concert at the Garden State Arts Center, an outside auditorium.  And a shower passing over for a few minutes, and how Gordon then broke into “Rainy Day People,” one of his hits.  And the crowd went wild.  We are all rainy day people without the light of God shining on us.  We are without hope and rainbows with no Jesus.  We live in darkness without the sun, and the Son to light the way.  Look for that Son in the midst of your darkness today.  There is a rainbow just waiting to remind you that God is with you in and through the storm.  He won’t take you around it, but will take you through it.  And walking in the midst of the storm, will keep you just singin’ in the rain.  Laugin’ and singin, in the rain.  What a glorious feeling.  Now about that rain suit...

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

restoration 101

In real estate they tell you that you didn’t spend too much, you just bought too soon.  Maybe the same can be said about collector cars too.  Although I don’t see many who want to buy a house they remember from high school and restore it.  Or buy an older house just because it reminds them of some childhood memories.  Maybe some of you extra affluent can and do, but for most of us we don’t want what our parents had, we want something better.  Newer.  More modern.  Bigger with a bigger payment.  We need to impress them...maybe they did pay too much after all.  But with collector cars we want what we couldn’t have, but dreamed of owning some day.  And for many that was hot rods, a generation before me, where more power came from a flat head Ford, with dual Smitty’s.  But for me in high school, it was ‘69 SS396’s, Boss Mustangs, 4-4-2’s, and GTO’s.  Muscle cars, and headers, chrome valve covers, and tie down hoods showed you were cool.  But many hot rods were still around, with many a good, old car giving up it original heritage to become one.  And 10-15 years ago they were more expensive to build than to restore to original.  Just the opposite is true today, where originality, and cars not restored, but maintained original are suddenly in, and bringing big bucks.  And in addition to that, you can buy all the parts to build a brand new 1957 Chevy, or a 1965 Mustang.  Title it as a 2014, but it is a 1957/1965.  Or is it?  Confused, don’t be.  But wait, there’s more.  How many Shelby Cobra after market kit cars are there?  Where an original is easily worth 6 figures, for less than the price of a Chevy you can have a real Cobra, says so right on the title.  But is it, or does the title just say it’s so?  So suddenly cars that are original, no restorations done, are now the benchmark for what the car was originally.  Hot rodders back off, restofied Tempests made into GTO’s wait over there.  Real Cobra’s be patient, for you have the real thing.  No matter what the title says, you have the VIN, the history, and buying power to back up your dreams.  But for the rest of us, well.....

When you become a Christian, Jesus tells us you are a new creature in Christ, behold the old has passed away, and you are a new creature.  All new, same VIN, same name, but new insides.  Yet many still glorify their old days, the BC days, looking back fondly on the sin Jesus saved them from.  Others still live the same life, but prefer to give an outward appearance on Sundays, even knowing all the current buzz words to show they are saved.  And then there are others that are radically saved, and you can see that Jesus made a difference in their lives.  They talk different, act different, and their priorities have changed.  But for all of us, we continue to work it out daily.  When I first got saved, I wasn’t sure what had happened, I looked at things differently.  So I told God I would give Him a try, pretty nice of me, huh? I told Him He could have my life, whatever that meant, but I was still going to do drugs and sleep around.  His answer to me still surprises the church types, He said “OK.”  But a change was going on inside, where I didn’t want to do those things any longer, and my heart was changing.  Now I wanted to please God, so no matter how drunk, or wasted, I made it a point to read  a chapter from the Bible before I fell asleep, or passed out.  Not knowing the work Jesus was doing inside of me, and how I couldn’t change myself.  Soon my old friends saw the change, and didn’t feel comfortable doing drugs with a Christian, imagine how I felt?  And God had given me a much better thing-hope.  And I didn’t need them any more.  I have been there, and don’t want to go back.  Yes I had some good times, passing out and losing my license was way too much fun, but while building my testimony missed out on many blessings.  Somehow God loved me just as I was, and was excited to see me using all my potential.  I had been radically changed...and never want to go back.  Some may call me restored, but remember we are all born into sin, and fall short of the glory of God.  I wish to look ahead, but still look back sometimes.  And wonder how I ever made it, but for the grace of God, I would not have.Jesus tells us that today is the day of salvation, maybe for you.  You too can be that new creature in Christ.  At just the right time Jesus died for us, while we were yet sinners.  Not too early, not too late.  Just right.  He never hurried, and was never late.  So I look back now, and see His timing was perfect.  I am like a hot rod, new parts, more power, and a custom design made in the image of God.  My name may still be where the VIN is on the title, but the new owner says Jesus Christ.  A 1954 model made new in 1975, and customized every year since.  New parts, better than the factory, and with a better warranty.  A restoration 101 of life, only in Christ.  And I can stand before God and know I am the original, not one built from NOS parts, or new parts under license.  Only one Mike, and too many that is a blessing. I can hear your AMEN’s!

Trade in your old sin for a new life today.  Be the hot rod, muscle car, or motorcycle you dreamt of, but couldn’t afford.  You cannot afford to say no to Jesus any more.  Today is that day of salvation, and God stands ready with a new build sheet and the accessory of grace for you.  Jesus is the only  and the original.  None other like Him before or after.  He is the real thing.  Pass up all other offers, and cash in with Him today.  And if you already have, you didn’t buy too soon, and you could never spend enough.  Aren’t you glad that salvation is a free gift?  Now about that house, seems there is this mansion in heaven promised, I wonder how many garages mine will have?  As for the rest of you....why don’t you just give Jesus a try?  I did, and never looked back.  A vintage 1954, made new again in 1975.  I wonder, does that make me a classic?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com