what motorcyclists talk about

Most of your life is spent on a journey from point A to point B.  Without ever stopping to realize it.  We wake up, we go to bed.  We go to school, we graduate.  We get a job, we go to job.  We come home, we go to bed.  We repeat this 250 times a year, with two weeks off for vacation, and some call it life.  They fail to see that we spend most of our time along the way, that we are in a perpetual as you go situation.  They travel the same roads, yet fail to see where they are going, or where they have been.  Even sadder is they miss the things along the way, the life that is happening right before our very eyes.  Places that many times only exist in our dreams, yet we have the chance to travel them every day.  Safe and secure in mediocrity, they raise families to live the same lives, passing generational losses on to their children.  Feigning success, happiness, and finding comfort in arriving.  They made it, but outside of arriving have nothing to show for the ride.  Those of us who ride know better.  Life is more personal, as we use all the senses God created in us to enjoy the day, and the ride.  Last weeks four day, 1000 mile ride reminded me of the freedom in riding, freedom of the road, the destination secondary when you are setting out on a road, and having the perfect riding partner along to share it with is where it is at.  Only on a motorcycle do you look at the skies before setting out.  Dress in layers, one morning started out in the 40’s, jacket off by lunch, and in the 80’s by dinner.  In a car, you turn on the heater/AC, the radio, and just go.  Latte in one hand, our lives in your other as you attempt to steer around us.  We check our tires, how many miles till empty via the trip mileage, where breakfast will be, usually an hour down the road, and what roads we will ride.  Maps old and creased from folding are old friends, and you plan your day around the ride, the road, arriving wherever when you get there.  Side roads call, we rode three roads I have passed by for years wondering where they went, rode too fast at 20mph, too slow at 80.  One off camber, up hill, 180 degree turn in first the most challenging.  We savor the points between A and B where most others rush by, the places we see they don’t.  The memories we have they won’t, and a good night’s sleep from being tired, not stressed.  And wake up each morning ready to ride again.

We check and lube our chains.  Check our tires for wear, and to see how much of the sides we have used.  Bikers know how many miles we can go until we hit reserve, which gas gives better performance, why Dunlops steer quicker, but wear faster than Michelins, and why to sit at the counter at a diner where all the action is.  When we stop and visit we compare road notes, places to eat, places to avoid, and inquire of “which way are you going?” which also tells us where you came from.  We have a common bond, we ride, and the road becomes a third party, it is real, has personality, ups and downs, detours, and fast sweepers.  It is the life we spend most of our waking hours on, so we enjoy it and look forward to it.  It is our destination, not just a way to get somewhere.  Those who drive just don’t get it, the artificial environment with controlled temp and music is boring to us.  Allowing a GPS to guide our day is sinful, being stuck in traffic stupid, and driving side by side in no way compares to riding with one in back of the other.  We call them cages, they get in, lock the door, put the latte down, turn on the satellite radio, and prepare to be bored.  Thinking you are entertained.  Stuck behind the wheel, never knowing the freedom of behind the handlebars.

Too many Christians I know confuse God and the church.  Thinking they are the one and the same, they go to church, tithe at church, get prayed for at church, and even endure church for an hour once a week.  They are stuck in a cage, just like being in a car, repeating 52 times a year, and never going anywhere with God.  Climate controlled religion.  Living life to the least, thinking they are living it to the fullest.  In Christ, just not with Jesus.  They ask for the spirit to come, never knowing he is always present, they have turned away.  Same music, same seat, same pastor, and same messages, nothing new, until Jesus becomes real in their lives.  Religion will do that, a man once told me “he always feels safe on the road when going to church, all the masses are the same.”  Never challenged by what God can do in a life, that is for others.  Yet they miss the fact that Jesus spent most of his time on the road.  Everyday the road was his destination, and the people he met along the way.  It even happened to the apostles, Philip meeting the Ethiopian eunuch, and Paul meeting Jesus.  Where?  On the road.  Where the action is, where the people are.  Where we ride.  Our destination for the day’s trip.  Which is why some have testimonies to share, while some are the audience.  Some follow Jesus, some just follow.  Some lead, some must be led.  Only Jesus and bikers know the true freedom of the road.  Maybe that is why Christian bikers are a special breed, we understand freedom.  We ride.  We know Jesus. 

And so recall the great commission Jesus gives us.  To go and make disciples.  Not in church, but along the road.  It is given in a perfect tense, meaning “as you go,” share Jesus.  Hard to do in a locked car, easier one to one.  Face to face, or helmet to helmet.  As we ride, we live, we share, we build testimonies.  Life is a ride, and the ride is life.  Don’t be like some who quit riding because they got old, only to find they got old because they quit riding. Don’t confuse your life in Christ with going to church.  Quit praying for the spirit, and start living in him.  Jesus left us his spirit to guide, comfort, and ride with until he returns.  He is here, you are here, the road is here.  Still don’t get it?  Where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty.  We look down the road, anticipating the next curve, not looking behind to see who is gaining.  We ride the ride Jesus gives us to the max.  He is the Alpha and the Omega, beginning and end, but also the right now.  Which is where we spend all our time.  Today was tomorrow yesterday.  Tomorrow will be yesterday soon enough.  Enjoy the day, the ride, and Jesus.  Get all the blessings from life he offers.  Cars and religion, now you know why we ride motorcycles.  And why we love Jesus.  I’d try to explain, but you probably couldn’t hear me inside my Arai. 

And now you know why dogs ride with their heads out the window.  Freedom...and why a 200 mile for orange juice ice cream makes perfect sense.  And what motorcyclists talk about...freedom.  In between rides, of course.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

remember the lesson from the AV squad

Much of the technology today was only a dream to me while growing up.  But in school we had this group of boys not quite men who attended to all of our technology needs in school.  They were the ones who set up the film strip machines, could repair and rethread the movie projector in the dark, over dub recordings, and run the light and sound at assemblies.  They were the Audio Visual guys, the AV squad, usually comprised of those who used slide rules and wore pocket protectors, who would build radios and color TV’s from kits, and were always picked last, if picked at all in gym class.  But somehow today ended up ruling the high tech world.  In my school they were the ones who were anti-war, were hippies, and listened to Hendrix and Led Zeppelin before the trendy ones did.  In fact the first time I heard the Led Zep album was when sent on an errand in ninth grade to fetch one of them to repair our film strip projector who was self destructing in mid flight, and they turned me on to them, listening through head phones, interrupted by the next person sent to find me and bring them back.  But their mark in my life had been made, and later when installing an 8-track in my car, they provided all they help, simple to them, a nightmare for me.  A far cry from today when you match blue wires with blue plugs and red with red.  These guys were pre-apps, nerdy at best, and today are the software companies.  They might not understand a new Corvette, but can program its ECU remotely to give you more power.  A long way from their VW buses with peace signs and clogging the fast lane at 25 mph.  It is these men and women who when they were young boys and girls brought technology to our classrooms.  So today here is to all those wearing pocket protectors, using slide rules, and keeping our high tech world functioning, here is to AV geeks everywhere.

When I worked for Mercedes Benz, radios had gone on to become stereos to become sound systems.  One older lady confused by the 37 buttons on her S Class, allowed me to advise her to “find a teenager to explain it,” and her grandson did.  Today we have apps for everything, carefully avoiding human contact, but we still have grandkids.  Let them earn their inheritance.  But it wasn’t always so, and my Grandpa’s era of technology was wax recordings on tubes only the rich could afford, and silent movies for 5 cents.  He was a father long before talkies came into his life, the technology was there via Tom Edison, who invented both recordings of audio and visual.  He may be the original AV guy.  But for years they were incompatible, they ran at different speeds, and the effect was most like the Ninja movies from the seventies, where the English words stopped, but the Japanese lips kept moving.  It took Edison advancing the concept of the earlier Kinetoscope where audio was synchronized with video, to make it all possible, something we take for granted today.  Some 30 years after inventing both movies and sound, he brought them together in 1928, in “The Jazz Singer.”  Which was actually a threat to those who made silent films, fearing the audience would become consumed with the audio, and forget about the video aspect.  Something that we still need to deal with in real life terms, just not on the silver screen.

“Walk your talk,” we are told from pulpits.  Let your actions match your words.  Be doers just not sayers of the word.  Yet in too many cases, from Pastor to just saved we don’t walk our talk.  The video of our lives doesn’t match our audio.  We are out of synch with God, allowing emotions, situations, and influence other than the Holy Spirit to guide us.  “Do as I say, not as I do,” we hear, stepping over the Lazaruses in our life who God places there.  We dodge opportunities to bless and be blessed, turning off the video for fear it will not match our audio.  We turn off the Holy Spirit, denying him and going our own way into sin, with disregard for the consequences.  We need to get in synch with Jesus, yet many have studied to find themselves approved, only to fall short when it comes time to act.  Yet others operate in the background like the AV squad, only being called when problems occur, and help is needed now.  Many times the problem could have been avoided if they followed God, thankfully he sent Jesus so we can be forgiven.  He gives us mercy, which can only be had after we screw up.  Funny how that works.

So we need to work on our AV skills, daily as the Bible tells us, working out our salvation.  Not to regain it, you cannot lose the gift, but to fine tune it.  To let Jesus be the most important part of our lives, seeking him first, then letting him add on all other things.  But it takes self control, the last in the list of the Fruit of the Spirit, to synchronize our AV skills.  And it is manifested itself in our actions and our words, by our choices.  We can become bitter, vindictive, hateful, or scornful.  Many do, but when we choose Jesus over the world, and are led by the Spirit, we change.  Suddenly the words of our mouth and the meditations of our heart are reflected in our actions.  We can go out and preach the word daily, using words when necessary.  We can be identified by our actions, our words later backing them up, rather than seeking forgiveness when we do unto others before they can do unto us.  It is a choice, just like following Jesus, one we make hundreds of times a day.  We can choose to be led by the Spirit, or seek forgiveness from him later.  Obedience is better than sacrifice, I have the scars to prove it.  Also when God enters a life we find evidence of him being there, his love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, meekness, and self control becoming part of our lives.  Walking with, rather than chasing after God and his ways.

Miracles abound everywhere, yet we miss them.  We aren’t looking, or listening.  No synchronization in the spirit.  Yet God provides live demonstrations every day.  Every doctor who reads my chart tells me there is no reason I should be alive after my aorta exploded.  I am a miracle, and you may doubt my words, but my scar gives it veracity.  The visual proof God is there, and his work revealed.   We need to match our visual to our audio, it works both ways.  So be careful of what you speak, for long after your words are forgotten, the images remain.  We see Jesus on the cross, forgetting his last words.  We are that memory of his that he has sent to remind others, don’t let them or him down.  Or yourself.  We need Jesus in everything, everyday.  But when our audio doesn’t match our visual, usually pointed out by the world, he forgives.  We get another chance.  The film of our lives can match the audio, there is no app for it.  It is a person, and can do things no I-anything can duplicate.  He is the person of Jesus Christ.  The answer.  He is just waiting for you to respond to his invite today.  To allow your words to match your actions, just like his did.  To be forgiven, and to give meaning to your life.  It takes listening to the spirit calling, and then acting.  It takes self control, your choice.  It takes Jesus.  Will you take him into your life?  Maybe the AV squad wasn’t that geeky after all.  Sound and action meeting and walking in one accord.  Long before AV we had Jesus.  The real AV guy, making it all possible.  Who ya gonna call?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

met out on the highway...

My first ticket was for failure to stay right.  Only in New Jersey at 2am in the morning would a State Policeman pull over 3 high school kids in a Pinto and write a ticket.  On a deserted highway.  Ever been cut off by Ms. SUV cutting across 3 lanes then texting at 50 mph in the fast lane?  While under the influence of cell phone?  And if you honk, she thinks you are a rager!  Yet our freeways are among the safest places in the world to drive-go figure.  Parking lots are the worst, particularly our COSTCO, where mini-vans seek to hit you, Navy retirees clog lanes, rather than walk two additional spaces, and loose carts always seem pointed at my truck.  Just another 20 feet and you could store them where the receptacle is, maybe they are in a hurry to get out in the left lane and go slow.  And as anyone who ever learned to ride a motorcycle knows, the most dangerous place to learn to ride is a parking lot.  The scene of too many disasters, even when empty.

But once you make it to the freeways, speed may be irrelevant, as AAA published years ago the average speed in LA freeways was 17 mph.  You make better time in COSTCO’s parking lot.  Years ago when only visiting our state, I had ridden up to Anaheim checking out new bikes.  Coming home on the 405 south, traffic moved at 70mph in this still 55mph wonderland, except for the center lane.  It was backed up for miles, so much I started counting the cars I passed.  After 30 I concentrated more on what was ahead, as the Orange Crush, where the 5 and 405 meet was just ahead.  Looking over I saw the end of the traffic backup, and looked over to see who was the perpetrator, it was my Father in law.  Going all of 50, he waved, and I wondered, as happy and slow as he was, why were all the others following behind in his lane, when three others were available?

On a trip through Tennessee many years later the answer was not to be found.  Heading east on I-40, a sign warned “lane ends in 30 miles” and cars and semi trucks were already merging causing a traffic jam.  So I kept on in the right lane, all but empty for 30 miles, while people honked and yelled while I passed.  I still don’t get that one, and I have been involved in it two times now...must be a state thing or something.  It seems each group of drivers has its own set of rules, some you find out on the road, some stuck on the road, and some on the side of the road.  Or in a parking lot.  At least they are consistent.

Over the years I tend to ride consistently, to maintain a steady speed.  I can fill up, water a lemon tree, and eat a Baby Ruth in about 15 minutes, be fully refreshed and ready to ride again.  Yet some take 3 or 4 times as long.  Think of it like this, at 80 miles ridden in one hour, you average 80 mph.  Simple public school math.  But stop and rest for 30 minutes, you have only travelled 80 miles in 90 minutes, dropping your average speed down to 54mph.  No wonder some get home late, or miss CHiP’s on TV.  Who wants to spend a good part of their life in a gas station?  Same with guys in the gym 10 hours a week, times 52 weeks=520 hours, or 13 weeks a year sweating.  Not for me. I rather have a 13 week road trip.  Where we spend our time on earth can be very telling, and disturbing if we sit and analyze it.

Frank and I decided years ago that if we have to sit somewhere, we choose to sit behind bars, handlebars.  Clear road ahead, places to go and see, and people to meet.  Yes I probably watch too much TV, spend too much time dodging SUV’s and retirees at COSTCO, but give me the open road any time.  Every time.  Right now seems a good time. Yet finding the time seems difficult, and when we do, we tend to hurry to get there, and wait in line.  Think of Disneyland as a theme park of waiting in line for 45 minutes, with a 5 minute ride reward.  At the end of a ten hour visit, you spent 50 minutes riding, and over 9 hours in line.  Suddenly 17 mph in LA seems quick.  Just not as quick as a parking lot.  And all for less than $100.  Give me the money, the time, the road, and I am out of town.  Empty roads, polite people, grass and trees, and less stress.  Two wheels preferred, a cage if you absolutely must.  The road the destination, when you get there your decision. 

An acute observation shows that Jesus never rushed.  And was never late.  Remember Lazarus and Jesus taking his time, at least to his sisters?  It was to show resurrection power.  Why did he wait and heal the blind man from birth after many years?  To show his healing power, and that no one else could get the credit.  Some wise sage long ago claimed “he isn’t always there when I want him, but always there when I need him.”  Half right, he is always there, he never leaves.  And so we have him riding into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, tried the next Thursday, crucified Friday, and risen on Sunday.  All in God’s timing.  Just as the scriptures predicted.  When he said “it is finished,” it was, not a minute sooner.  Or later.  His timing is perfect, we get a little too slow, or too fast.  Somehow when we honor him, we get where we need to be, when he wants us there.  Even if you are stuck behind somebody’s relative in the middle lane.  Or hurry to change lanes before it ends in 30 miles.  Jesus knows...if only we did.

He knows where the time goes, some sweating, some texting, some riding.  God knows, and we can too, it is called prayer.  Too many wait and look for an escape route, when if we asked and obeyed we might not get stuck.  But no matter what, Jesus is with us.  If only he could ride in the commuter lane with you.  “You see officer, Jesus is always with me,and although the car looks empty, he is here.”  After the breath test, call your attorney. But know he is with you, the holy spirit sent to guide you.  Comfort you.  And show you the mysteries of the cross.  It is all about Jesus. 

More than the old country western song “I don’t care if it rains or freezes, just as long as I got my plastic Jesus, right on the dashboard of my car...”  He is real.  Today is Good Friday, celebrate what he did on the cross.  Pick up your cross and follow him.  Bungee it on the back of your bike if you must, but follow.  Celebrate Easter, and his resurrection, as we will someday be resurrected.  And don’t worry if you are dead in sin, only something that has been dead can be resurrected, and only Jesus can give life.  Seek him and live today.  As far as time goes, we are not promised tomorrow, and today is the day of salvation for many. 

We ride to finish.  We race to finish.  We live to finish, but to finish first, first we must finish.  Life is an endurance race, not a 1/4 mile drag.  Where you spend it is up to you.  Also who you spend it with.  Jesus spent much of his life on the road, the highway.  Where the people are, where the action is.  At 17 or at 80, he keeps up.  Can you?  Will you?  Keep in mind our final destination, it somehow makes the ride all worth while.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

ride and prejudice

Mr. Levy was a Vice president of Polychrome, and the head man at our new location.  His secretary was Sara, young and attractive, as most of us once were, at least young that is.  Her office was next to his, and it seems her door was always open, and she was strategically placed to see what went on.  All comings and goings went by her office, even trips to the men’s room, and it was rumored she kept notes on all of us.  I had a rule, never date anyone you work with, and although attractive, I had little interest in her.  She came from an old Italian, very Catholic family, and dressed like it.  Quite a difference from the rest of us in our wide lapels, open shirt look just before the disco era.  She was always pleasant, and asked a lot of questions.  Which somehow you felt compelled to answer....We got to be friends, at work, and when I bought my custom van, the 1973 Chevy that Garry Brown had customized for his final project before graduating from Bucknell, she took interest in it.  I was living with my parents at the time due to budget constraints, no money, and she lived with her multi-generational family at home, like I said a very old family.  She had let the word get around she would like a ride in it, and somehow we agreed to go out to dinner, the van as the transportation.  Good girls didn’t ride on motorcycles...but did they in vans?

Picking her up I met a different Sara than the one I knew at work.  Her family was nice, invited me in for a beer, I graciously declined, and as formal as she was at work, she was now attractive and vivacious.  She had gone from professional to attractive.  Did she have a sister I didn’t know about?  So off we went, her asking many questions, mostly about the van, and most of my talking was answers, not questions, or even statements.  Mostly replies.  Dinner at Charlie Brown’s went well, we were actually having a good time, the sun still up on this summer night, and I asked her what she wanted to do.  Too early to go home, both living with our parents, but I did have the van, and she really liked it...so we went cruising in it, which is what she wanted to do.  To be seen in the van, while others jealously looked at her with envy.  Driving Miss Sara if you would.  So off through North Plainfield we went, taking the long way to her house.  No traffic, just cruising when the red lights appeared.  And I was pulled over...for going too slow.  I had a list of ready excuses for going too fast, but none for excessive slowness.  After being told how I was impeding traffic, no cars passed while being detained, and how speed kills....death due to insufficient speed, I can see the headlines now, and left me off with a verbal warning for going 25 in a 30 zone.  But for this innocent girl, this really made me the bad boy she had been warned about, she had never been stopped and it scared her.  She was shaken, and she later settled down, but my reputation as a bad boy now exceeded my riding a motorcycle...I was a law breaker.. a felon at 25 mph.  My ride and prejudice were about to be exploited at work the next day....

Now her girlfriends at work could hardly wait to hear about her date, and when her opening line was the police pulled us over...the imaginations and gossip ran wild.  Instantly a chorus of “I told you he was bad” echoed, some warning her, others wanting a ride.  Tell me more... What is it about good girls and bad boys?  But she never got much further than the being stopped part of the date, and later told me she really had a good time.  Never mentioning her brush with the law.  The last time I ever dated anyone I worked with.  True story, but without the details, it was just another night with police intervention.  And to Sara, I would always be the felon at 25 mph, the slowest man in the van.  Her purity lost for going too slow...go figure.

Today we live in a world of sound bytes, but being misquoted, or not telling the whole story is nothing new.  Started in the Garden, Satan twisting God’s warning to Eve around.  Look at the consequences of a lie.  How many have been told or told others money is the root of all evil?  Not in the Bible, scripture tells us “the love of money is the root of all evil.”  Big difference, money is a form of barter, not evil.. Worshipping it is.  How many have been led astray by asking God for desires, then quoting Philipians 4:13, “I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me.”  Read the verses, Paul was bragging about how no matter the situation, Christ would take him through it.  Rich or poor.  In my case slow or fast.  Not a genie in the lamp as some desire, or aspire to.  The most conveniently misinterpreted verse about judging, usually brought up by people caught in sin, who don’t wish to be judged, but it is OK if they judge your words.  But really here Jesus is telling us to be alert, and discern people and their words and actions.  Good advice.  If only the cop had known to “not judge by appearance, but by my fruits,” as scripture tells us, John 7:24 and Matthew 7:16.  What an outcome difference to Sara’s recollection of our date.  And for her audience.

And of course this Good Friday let’s remember Pilate making a sign to hang over Jesus as he hung on the cross.  “The King of the Jews.”  And when the Jews argued, admitting he may have been a king, but not the king, Pilate says “I have written what I have written.”  Not knowing the truth in his statement.  So we do damage to others and ourselves by misquoting scripture.  A good rule of thumb is the 20/20 rule.  Read 20 verses before, and 20 verses after the one you quote, get the whole story.  Don’t base a theology or relationship on just one verse.  Or statement.  Truth be told, I was not a felon, and now laugh about being stopped for going too slow.  Maybe the fact I didn’t get a ticket is the repercussions the cop would have gotten. “Writing a ticket for too slow?  Breaking speed laws by not going as fast as the sign said? Impeding traffic when no other cars are present?”  Thankfully God is always present, and sees all.  And forgives all.  Cops too.

Just another date for me, but an eye opener for Sara.  She knew the truth, yet her interpretation led her to her opening line.  Seeking a thrill, being with a bad boy, but never becoming a bad girl.  But almost, escaping the annals of crime by the skin of her teeth. Her purity intact.  A heroine, how would you have told the story?  How did you hear it?

Remember that when you share Jesus.  Tell the truth, inspired by the spirit.  Too many wanting to hear a lie, or twisting your words.  Let God be God and all men liars.  Even on a first and only date, at 25 mph.   Study to be approved, seek the truth,let it set you free.  And never date anyone you work with.  The walls have ears, and eyes.  And sadly mouths.  Later my boss called me aside, hoping for steamy details of a date in my van.  “Honest Walter, we had a good time.  She is a nice girl.  We got stopped for 25 in a 30 zone.”  I could have said.  But I let him off easy, “that’s the kind of answer a gentleman would never tell about a lady.”  Both our reputations protected.  Only Sara and I will know the truth.  Only the stories have been changed to indict the innocent.

love with compassion,
Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

a tale of two tickets

When the Wildman called and asked a favor of course I answered “yes.”  Without listening first, such is friendship among those who ride.  His friend needed a ride to get his paycheck that afternoon, his car was down, could I take him to get it?  “Sure, no problem,” then he added it was in Newark.  No one goes to Newark, it was still a burned out hull 7 years after the 1967 riots, what was the Wildman thinking?  But a friend in need is a friend indeed, so I made arrangements to pick up his friend on my R90S.  I wanted as little time in Newark as possible, and off we went.  Now only 12 miles from where I lived, it was a seriously old, decaying, and very prejudiced city, everyone avoided it when possible.  So off we went, on a picture perfect New Jersey fall afternoon, grey, with a chance of rain, cool but not cold, and no trace of sunshine.  Riding east on Route 22, we got off at Freylinghausen Avenue, just where it goes from 3 lanes to 2, creating a traffic jam, and there were the flashing lights.  Now I hear light travels faster than sound, but not in police cars, you always hear them first.  So pulling over, Sgt. Attitude gets out of his cruiser.  And the battle for my soul, my license begins.  This guy hates motorcycles, those who ride them, and anyone born on a day ending in Y.  As he looks over my license and registration, he begins to berate my bike, telling me at 120 mph his 440 Magnum will run up my tail pipes.  This guy wanted to race...I just wanted to leave.  Offering little resistance, never argue with an idiot, you will never win, he writes the ticket, delays us just enough so we barely get the paycheck, and we flee Newark for good.  Our good.  But cheesed off, first my speed was not that high, secondly I was targeted on a bike, and third, I was to appear in court, in Newark, at 830pm on December 24th.  Christmas Eve, even in Newark.  A must appear box checked, and for the next few weeks I fumed over it.  Until the week before Christmas I called to confirm...court on Christmas Eve?  The girl who answered the phone, asked for the citation number, and told me it didn’t exist.  When I further explained about the December 24th 830pm court date, she laughed.  “We’re closed on Christmas Eve, all day.  Somebody was funnin’ with you, there is no ticket, no badge number, and no court.  Merry Christmas.”  Sgt. Attitude had gotten me, somewhere in a dingy squad room he was telling others how he had written me a ticket, and I was probably stupid enough to show up, on Christmas Eve.  He had run up my tail pipes, just not at 120. 

Leaving Gainesville under the watchful eye of the Florida State Police, I felt safe at 55mph, scared at 56, petrified above 60.  Revenue enhancement per the 55 mph speed limit was creating revenue spikes in many states, Florida was no exception.  But somehow I got careless outside DeFuniak Springs, and got pulled over.  Maybe it was my Jersey tags on again the R90S, or creating a public endangerment at 60, but again the flashing lights told the story.  After writing me up, he told me again since I was out of state, I would have to a personal appearance.  He didn’t care that I was on my way to New Mexico, the law was the law.  Reminding me of Newark, all over again.  I made Albuquerque fine, no further police escorts, and was fuming over going back to Florida.  It was then John pointed out the court date, November 31st.  Even in New Mexico calendars only had 30 days in November, so I wrote to the court, telling them I was busy on the 31st, my calendar was full, please advise.  And never heard back, either the cop became a joke, I was the butt of the joke, or there really were 31 November days in Florida, either way I was off the hook.  And would ride again, to receive more side of the road introductions from law enforcement, adding revenue to many state and local coffers.  A sad tale of two tickets, does the term I have a badge and a gun mean anything to you?

Pilate had power as governor over Jerusalem.  Weak in character, he wanted nothing to do with Jesus.  But to avoid any more public outcries, had him scourged, hoping the Jews would feel that was enough.  Declaring three times he was innocent, to the cries “crucify him!” he finally relented. He knew Jesus was innocent, but was afraid for his position and reputation.  Think of politicians today.  He even made a sign, “The King of the Jews,” upsetting them more, the Jews would admit he might be a king, but not the king.  But he said, “ I have written what I have written.”  Déjà vu ahead to Newark and Defuniak Springs.  Proclaiming the truth, just not knowing it.  And we all know the story of Good Friday, and of Easter.  But we forget how Jesus laid down his life, no one could or did take it from him.  Perhaps enforcing the scripture “greater love has no man than to lay down his life for another.”  To the end, Jesus was in control.  Innocent, no fault found, yet convicted.  Unfairly tried by those he came to save, giving “to protect and serve” a whole new meaning, rather than the one mimicked on police cars.  Times and dates matter to him, and so do we.  A fact to remember on Good Friday, and every day.  It was Good Friday for me when I got pulled over, I couldn’t see what was ahead, but God knew.  And my day of vindication, my Easter, was when I was forgiven by the courts.  My license resurrected.  Jesus rose again so we can be too, daily and eternally.  He is with us always, even until the end.  He says so, so it must be true.  A fact I remember every December 24th around 830pm.  And celebrate on November 31st. If I could only find it on the calendar.

We need the police, they have a tough job, just look at their customer base.  But only Jesus forgives, the law brings death.  Or court.  On Judgment Day I will be found innocent, my Jesus paying the fine, forgiving me.  Clean and white as snow, even in New Jersey where it is light grey. Even in burned out Newark, sunny Florida, and everywhere men are found.  Your sins are forgiven, beautiful words to hear, I know.  Both in court and the heavenly courts.  Turn to Jesus today, he understands lynch mob mentality, prejudice, and injustice.  He is love, and all the sins of my tickets are wiped away. 

Come to think of it, I should have been suspicious of Sgt. Attitude.  If he had really run my license, he would have found I was on probation, going to Court appointed traffic school in Rahway State Prison.  Too many points...Let Jesus resurrect your life and maybe your license today.  Start new and fresh every morning with his blessings.  Remember the date he came into your life, and if it falls on a November 31st, there’s this clerk in Florida who can advise you on the calendar.  I find it easier just to trust Jesus.  You never know who you’ll meet along the road, just ask Paul.  A public service message from another rider who cares.

love with compassion,

Mike

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