the parable of the unburned hydrocarbons

Los Angeles in the sixties set the example of smog.  Growing up 3500 miles away we didn’t know how good we had it, the rains that populated New Jersey skies helped keep the air clean.  But on my first trip to LA, aka Smog Angeles in 1975,  I got sick.  My eyes burned, throat got sore, and whereas growing up where I did, you thought snow was grey, I found the air could be also.  Where once we were told “what you can’t see can’t kill you,” I found out like many others what you can see can.  And riding in a car with the AC on, while adding to the pollution only eradicated the symptom, you were still dying a slow death just from being there.

And on a motorcycle it was only worse.  We talk of the wind in your face, the fresh air, but many forget or weren’t there when LA meant smog, and lots of it.  Today due to cleaner burning engines, that emit much less, the air going into your engine is dirtier than the air coming out.  Clean air restrictions haven’t hit motorcycles yet, which I am not for, the laws not the motorcycles.  But on the annual toy run to Children’s Hospital, I altered my views.  If only for the 30 mile ride.  In a rider group of mostly Harleys, it wasn’t the loud exhausts.  Or the loud stereos set on distort, it was the smell of raw gas.  Unburned hydrocarbons coming from poorly tuned motorcycles.  Now any bike can emit all of the above, and with computer control you can control it better.  But the smell of all the raw unburned gas about made me sick, and I was about to blame the riders, then remembered a Christmas special sign for Harley owners.  If you buy the pipe and air box kit, they will not charge you the extra $300 to remap it on the computer. A simple 20-30 minute task of software.  The final step in the process, they don’t include in the process, I mean price,  it is ala cart.  Which explains the raw fuel smell, running too rich, which aids in an early rebuild.  The extra gas runs down the cylinder walls, effectively removing the oil there that is to lubricate it.  It is like having a cavity removed, but not having it refilled.  Problem solved, another problem created.  When will we ever get smart enough to ask questions.  While bragging about how loud pipes save lives, they add to an early death for their ride.  And the beat goes on...

But yet some of the most wonderful smells can be found only from behind handlebars.  I must admit that while castor oil emits large amounts of pollution, I love the smell of racing castor.  Means high performance bikes are near, a much different odor than the raw gas on Saturday.  But I refer to a ride on a spring day in the hills.  Riding through orange groves, and the smell of orange blossoms permeating the air.  The speed dictating how fast the smell embraces you, and you embrace it.  A short ride later in the mountains, and the smell of pine.  Again refreshing, but a different attitude all together.  Almost intoxicating, and when at higher altitudes with thinner air, it can be.  The smell of hamburgers on the grill...ummm.  It seems that all living things, us included, give off odors, it is the fragrances we tend to remember, rather than the odors.  Then, even riding on more, down into the desert presents another type of fragrance, the best time is spring when it is in bloom.  Summer brings the odor of overheating, never a good thing, no matter where or when.  And while riding in the midst of all the fragrant wonders, one small dose of offending air can ruin it. 

The next time you let the dog out in the morning, see how they smell the air to see what went on last night.  Their sense of smell, 400 times ours, gives them insight to the surroundings.  Where we scan the horizon, they sniff it.  Today at 39 degrees at 655am, you could smell how clean the air is after a rain shower, with a trace of wood fires mixed in.  After the rain the air is so clear and clean, and refreshing.  Highlighted by rides among the orange groves, or up in the mountains in the forests.  Rain cleans the air, and brings us a new fragrance to the day.  Jesus does the same thing for our lives.  The stench of death permeated our lives due to sin at one time, only we didn’t know it.  Born into the odor, we were used to it, until Jesus offered us life. Free from sin and the odors that came with it.  He cleaned out the sin, replacing it with love and forgiveness, and soon the senses we had were heightened.  We saw sin for what it is, and how it lingers.  We now saw life, and the fragrance found in it.  The orange smells, the pine odors all tell of life, smog smells of death.  Unburned hydrocarbons, and most of us were like that, never running or living up to what God had created for us.  It took the remapping of our lives to remove the sin, to tune us up, and have us running the way we were designed.  A true born again experience, finding power and glory we didn’t know existed.  If only it could keep the rain out...

But God promises the rain will fall on the just and the unjust.  The air is cleaner, the plants are greener.  The earth accepts it like grace, it rejuvenates it, brings it back to life.  If only those of us who ride could ever see all the benefits, rather than an afternoon of clean up after riding in it.  But God’s grace is there for all.  And like some who never get remapped, their bikes never run as they could or should.  With an illusion of more power, with it being just that.  It takes the creator of the bike to know how to tune it best, just as we need to turn to our creator.  Who can only be reached through Jesus Christ.  Who gives his spirit to guide us.  Through the sunny days and rainy ones.  Where we learn to see all God has for us, not just what we want.  Or lust for.

Call it the parable of the unburned hydrocarbons.  We all need a tune up in life, and being in tune with the spirit brings that life.  We may be running rich, and burning out without knowing it.  Spending to much for energy, but never getting all the power.  Or too lean, not enough fuel, too much air.  Either way you will burn out too early.  The prefect is when Christ dials in your life.  When you are remapped to run in the spirit, being in perfect tune with God. And it is included when you are saved.  Loud pipes may save lives, but need to be remapped.  It should not be an option, shame on those who use it as a profit center.  Only Jesus saves, and with him you get it all.  And on last Saturday morning, while riding behind all those unburned hydrocarbons, I was reminded.  The fragrance of Jesus was infringed upon, but how would they know if they weren’t told?  We all want clean air, do we all want Jesus?  How do you tell someone they need to be remapped, and their bike too?  Again the spirit, and today many are answering the call.  Clearing their lives of unburned hydrocarbons,and finding the aroma of life in him.  Like the fragrance after the rain, he cleans us up, and leaves us pure.  Maybe a ride through the orange groves this morning, call it a church service for the ride, to clear out my head.  And sinuses.  But yet the smell of racing castor tempts me....for now I will bask in the fragrance of life in Christ.  Where when it is well with my soul, it is well with everything else.  I can almost smell the pines as I head up towards Palomar....and I can still smell the orange blossoms. 

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com 

Winnie the Pooh and Santa, too!

My first trip to Disneyland was when we had our first son Christopher.  We went with his best friend and cousin Adam, and it was the first time for the three of us.  Christopher immediately took to the people dressed as Disney characters, from Mickey to Minnie to Winnie the Pooh and others.  He loved them!  Then there was Adam, who even though the same age, was afraid of them.  Which I find is common, or so I am told.  How can anyone be afraid of those they read about and love?  Yet they do, and it is not unusual.  Now I might consider a six foot tall Goofy a bit scary, but Chip and Dale?  Snow White?  Who’s afraid of the big, bad wolf?  Ironically this is from the two that love Godzilla, and when he died in one of his movies, they cried.  Where was the King of the Monsters when you needed him?  Disneyland is a long way from Tokyo....

But the closest I came to Disney characters was when working for Sears, who used Winnie the Pooh, and Tigger,too, along with Eeyore to sell their kids clothes.  Shirley ran the department, and one weekend the promotion was seeing Winnie the Pooh live!  But at the last minute, the guy who was to play Winnie backed out, and she came to us, her first mistake, for help.  Which came in the form of Pete, who was nuts.  And funny.  Depending upon which end of his irreverence you were on.  Second mistake. So Pete put on the Winnie costume with a net so he could look out through the honey jar.  It fit him perfectly, and the sticks he had for his arms were the next mistake.  And the show was to start...

Pete was let loose on the sales floor on a busy Saturday afternoon.  Crowded with kids and their mothers, he bounced aroound, kids hugging him, making a growling, purring noise, the kids loved.  Many pictures of Pete/Winnie were taken, and he was bouncing around loving it.  And everyone was having fun, until Pete started using the sticks for arms to lift skirts, or bump into others on purpose.  He was warned once, which only encouraged him even more, until one mom, who saw no fun in it, turned around and punched him in the honey jar!  Putting a huge dent in it, and knocking him backwards, and sending poor Winnie onto a table full of clothes.  Winnie was down, but not out!  And was escorted off the floor by security, his honey jar dented, and Shirley was called.  And disciplined for Pete’s/Winnie’s actions.  They told her she should have known better, what else did she expect of him?  And the legend lives on...Pete is a well respected golf pro today.  Wonder if Winnie’s arms influenced his game? 

And so it goes, and every Christmas stores are filled with Santas.  With parent standing in long, tortuous lines to have their adorable loved one see him.  With results often unpredictable, from the grouchy Santa on “A Christmas Story,” to Kramer playing an elf, to well meaning neighbors trying to influence little kids.  But how many remember how terrifying it was the first trip to Santa’s lap?  When you froze up, didn’t want to, and started to cry?  All dressed up in three layers of clothes, your parents now upset and tired, and hustling you off to the car with wet cheeks, and crying.  Swearing never to do it again, until next year came around and you promised to be good.  Just in case.  Telling you more stories about Santa Claus, and hoping you will be nice.  Hoping their list to be different than the one Santa employs.  He guesses, they know.  And I always wondered the first time we took our kids to see Santa, who was really under the fake beard?   Did Pete have connections in the Santa union via his Winnie days?   Could ho, ho, ho turn out to be who, who, who.....maybe there is more to it than we know about kids and sitting on Santa’s lap.  What do they know we don’t? 

Being the Christmas season, we find Santa and Jesus doing battle for your attention.  The most wonderful time of the year is not about long lines of shoppers.  Of Santa or Black Fridays.  It is all about Jesus, for without him with have no Christ, and therefore no Christmas.  What is a parent to do?  Now I was young when I figured out the Santa deal, but cool enough to go along with it.  Hey, I like the presents as much as anyone, I can dig the concept of getting and giving.  So can God, so he sent his only begotten, unique son to save us.  To be the way back to him, out of our sin.  And unlike kids being afraid of Santa, again they can go with the gift getting concept, but are somehow afraid of him, the Bible tells us kids flocked to Jesus.  They loved him, despite not passing out any gifts.  It seems kids can tell character better than us, Shirley choosing Pete for Winnie a good example, and they can tell a fake from the real thing.  And Jesus is real, Santa is a made up character.  Yet many see Santa every year, many Santas actually, but fail to see Jesus in Christmas.  And this year will be no different, but you can change that.  Since Jesus is the reason for the season this year, give each other gifts in his name.  Don’t go religious on them, but tell the story of his birth in a manger. In a barn, with animals and people.  How a star led them, rather than Star Wars.  How three wise men later came to visit, bringing gifts, and that is why we give gifts, in honor of Jesus.  How Christmas started.  Then let them know how Jesus gives the best gift, forgiveness, even Santa cannot do that.  And how he loves them, he forgives, no naughty or nice on his list, only good little boys and girls of all ages who are forgiven.  And ask if they would like to be forgiven?  No one ever asked Pete that day?  Maybe when kids are afraid of Santa it is because they can see the truth, and want it.  And you now have the answer, it’s Jesus!  From the manger to candy canes, explain it simply, so they get it.  Now do you? 

No lines to see Jesus, and he is available all year.  And gives all year too.  No hype, just truth.  And love.  There will come a time when they don’t believe in Santa any longer, but will keep the concept at Christmas time.  Let them know about Jesus, more than a concept, let him be revealed in your life every day for your kids to see.  Have fun at Christmas, and let me leave you with a quiz.  A Christmas quiz about my favorite Christmas song, Silent Night.   Actually two questions.  First, who are the round yon virgin, mother, and child?  The only place you ever hear of this trinity?  And even more important, what is a round, yon virgin?  Mother and child I can get, but what is a round, yon virgin?

Yet we are left Winnie the Pooh, and Santa, too.  Characters to entertain and sell goods.  But when you have Jesus, you have the real thing.  And nothing else matters.  This year keep the main thing the main thing, Jesus.  And let all other things be added on.  Give gifts, share love, and enjoy the peace only God can give through is son.  Make Christmas day a daily event sharing him with others.  Only 13 days left until Christmas, with only 12 shopping days left.  We don’t know when Jesus will return....don’t miss the real Christmas in heaven.  And if a huge Winnie the Pooh should cross your path....who just happens to be round and...mother and child take beware!  Merry Christmas to all!  Who, who, who!  See it really is all about Jesus!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

all I have is my love of love, and love is not loving

Many nights and rainy afternoons were spent listening to Bowie and trying to figure out what he meant when he sang “all I have is my love of love, and love is not loving.”  The song “Soul Love,” second song on the first side of “Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars” album, worn out on many turntables over 40 years ago.  We were young, although we didn’t think so, stupid, although we thought we knew it all, and had no sense of tomorrow, or of many other senses either.  We were just out of high school, some in college, some in JC like me, some in hair school, and some finding work with their father’s business immediately after graduation.  The war in Nam was still going on, and some friends went, some didn’t, I was #364 in the draft when I turned 18, some came back, too many didn’t, and those who did were affected forever.  Hair was long, tempers were short, disco was on the horizon and Yoko Ono had broken up the Beatles.  And then Bowie came along....

I love music, almost all kinds, except Rap or hip hop.  Cannot stand it.  Look at its roots and you may see why.  Angry, degrading, and addictive, and to me it all sounds the same.  Look back from 1956 to 1975, and music was in a Classic mode, never to be reproduced again.  We had our love of The Grateful Dead, Wings, Led Zeppelin, and now Bowie, all singing about love.  Sex was becoming a first date ritual, two wheels was always preferred over four, an easier way to get a date than in Mom’s station wagon, and we were searching, what for we weren’t sure, but the hunt was fun, and exciting, but for some never ending.  It was a time of me first, first learned out of the womb when we cried or grabbed what we wanted with no regards to others.  “Mine!”  And we soon learned to have our own way, to rebel against the establishment.  Many did, looking for love in all the wrong places, some found a poor substitute and burned out before they burned up, and for some the party continues today, no one had the guts to tell them it was over.  All they had was their love of self, and that isn’t loving.

Some took passion and made it a career, some took their parent’s advice and lived never knowing, and some just didn’t care.  Freedom we called it, do your own thing, and many did, redefining success, and enjoying a life that made them appear weird, but left them fulfilled inside.  My passion has always been for motorcycles, and over the years, since June of 1972, have only been without at least one for only 7 weeks, when snowed in at Vallecito Lake.  40 below and 500 inches of snow were hard to overcome, and I finally succumbed to winter.  But that passion took me to school, to an outlaw experience in Florida, to New Mexico after I was saved, and to San Diego where I met my forever wife Theresa.  A million miles off life.  All on two wheels, and the memories continue to this day.  Freedom behind handlebars, not sitting at a bar.  48 states, Canada and Mexico.  12 trips from east to west coast.  124 degree heat, below freezing temps.  Flash floods, sudden blizzards and countless days of sunshine, I had found my love of riding.  My love of love, but love was not loving.

Ask anyone in love, and they will tell you love is an emotion.  Correct, at least a little.  For when it is, you can fall out of love.  You may not feel in love that day, and pay for it tomorrow.  I told my sons for years “never make a decision on a high or low emotion,” yet we all do, and look back and wonder “what was I thinking?”  Some love golf, some cars, some clothes and fashion.  Some love music, some shopping, some love the Chargers, and some even love motorcycles.  I can be guilty of all, I once played golf, I love t shirts and jeans, don’t own a tie, I love music, like to shop for motorcycles, win most of the time because I bet against the Chargers and love to ride.  But it goes beyond that, for I love motorcycling, not just the bike.  I love to ride, to be on the road, to meet others who ride, to go places and cross time zones.  I like to cruise at 120, or at 35.  I love Ninjas, my Bonneville, and also my Tigers.  I wear off chicken strips on all bikes, and wear others out on long rides.  I am a motorcyclist, it is my love, but there is something else, someone else who defines love to me.  And who I am.

Scripture tells us “God is love.”  More than a feeling, like Boston sang, he is the person of Jesus Christ.  He brings us joy which is not to be confused with happiness.  And blessings, which means happiness, and they come from him.  It requires a relationship, a personal one, and admitting you are a sinner.  Just like the way we were born, in sin, and Jesus is the way to be forgiven.  Without him, all we have is our love of love, with no one to identify it with.  And without Jesus, love is not loving.  Which is why marriages end, lives spin out of control, and the free love we once thought we enjoyed has brought us a generation of those even more selfish.  Jesus tells us our lives are not our own, and we only have life when we give over our lives to him.  Our decision, for true love demands a decision, and God offers us the choice.  And so while some fall in and out of love, we stay in love when we stay in Christ.  He never sleeps so we can at night.  He never gives up on us, when we do.  He promises us a hope and a future when today seems like the end.  He is love, and those who know him find love.  Way beyond an emotion, or a feeling, in our very spirit he dwells with us.  Giving us his spirit, so we can live as he intends.  But yet, we still have to make the decisions of how to live.

Many my age gave up riding to marry or raise a family.  Now the kids are gone, sometimes the spouse, and they are coming back.  And enjoying something they didn’t know they had been missing.  My first night with Theresa was on a R100S, and we still ride today.  Both my sons were raised around riding, and we all ride today.  Motorcycling has brought us together, in good times and of bad.  But being a Christian has given us life.  Good times or bad, Jesus stuck with us.  At home, on the road.  In church or in hospitals.  At the desert or crossing the Mississippi, like the song says “this land was made for you and me.”  Made by a loving God, a person.  And if all I have is his love, then I have it all.  So I still may not understand Bowie’s lyric, but I can tell you I found love in Jesus Christ, my love of all loves, and his love is loving.  And so much more.

Kings and kingdoms will all pass away.  Just look at the news.  Motorcycles have changed drastically in 40 years.  Earth tones are coming back in fashion.  Retirement looms for many with apprehension.  The same way they lived.  I have a hope and a future, here and after earth.  I may get too old to ride or feed myself.  To poor to pay my bills, without help.  Or lose my teeth and have to drink milkshakes.  But I never have to worry, for all my needs will always be met in Jesus Christ.  All.  That soul love that Bowie sang of I have found.  And it is well with my soul.  People ask me about my love of motorcycles, and if it interferes with my being a Christian.  Are you putting something else before God?  Again the answer found in scripture, for God has given me the desires of my heart.  And that desire is him.  First.  He also has given me a desire to ride, and when I seek him first, all other things are added unto me.  Including motorcycles.  And a ministry using them.  He is my first love, and his love is loving me, a long time before I ever loved him.  That’s love, and why Jesus died for us while still sinners. 

Experience his love today and forever.  Get to know him beyond church and teaching.  You read the book, now meet the person.  The application of your education.  Bowie told us “don’t lean on me man, ‘cause I can’t afford the ticket”...Jesus paid the price for your ticket that Bowie told us he couldn’t afford.  Lean on Jesus, your soul is bought and paid with a price.  That’s love.  Now go and love on someone else.  And show them that love is loving.  Soul love.  A song worth singing over and over.  And now you know....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

my Dad's Bug

It must have been a big step for my Dad, a Rambler man, to buy a second car.  A succession of a 1962 Rambler American station wagon, that non-descript green, a 1964 American sedan, the same green, and finally a Classic 770, a pretty neat car by Rambler standards filled the garage.  Raising a family on a teacher’s salary, he was always conservative in his spending, so it amazed us when he came home with a second car one day, a used 1963 VW Beetle.  It was blue, surprise, and had a sunroof, so it was not the base models he was used to buying.  That was high end for VW.  It was in very good shape, with the tires and floor mats painted with the rubber covering used cars were detailed with before Armor all.  His commute was three miles each way, and it sometimes would take longer to warm up on cold New Jersey mornings than the ride to school.  Today’s climate control systems, aka heaters and a/c are a far cry from the engine heater run through pipes under the floor.  A knob on the floor opened them up, and to defrost the windshield you closed the floor vents.  No fans, it took forever to heat or defrost, fortunately he had a short commute.  At the time he played golf, and since it had no trunk to speak of, he removed the rear seat back so his clubs would fit.  Which made it interesting when he would pick my friends and I up at the movies.  Kids today would have a fit with no seat belts, or seat back, to my Dad it was just part of a basic car being used as necessary. 

But a big day was when he would actually open the sunroof.  Fresh air, old VW’s smelled like old VW’s even when new, the jute padding used in the seats was a German trademark, sit in any Mercedes Benz from the seventies?  That’s the smell.  Lovely after years of humidity.  Smelled like a wet dog.  And with the radio permanently set at 910 AM, WOR, talk radio before talk radio became an epidemic, I had hours of listening to John Gambling in 10 minute bursts.  And when picked up after 10 PM from parties, could get enough Jean Shepherd to want more.  He of “A Christmas Story” fame, we all had heard him long before the movie became a Christmas staple.  But the high light, or low light, came one day as we were riding to school.  A typical Jersey winter day with more snow than road, which made people speed up rather than slow down.  We were creeping along, slow even for my Dad, when we got hit from behind by a young girl.  The VW damaged, the bumper really did bump and did little body damage, and all was well.  Information exchanged, no police called, long before cellphones dotted the highways, and we went to school.  With a story to tell of why I was late, and what had happened.  Which later would be contradicted by the girl who hit us.  She claimed I was driving, and that was why she hit us.  One it is hard tor drive from the passenger seat, even harder when you are 13 and cannot drive a clutch.  Our insurance company finally settled it, she was at blame, the car was fixed, and its life of never going over 40 mph continued.  All repairs under $100 I was told, and fixed in a day.  Simple and quick, just like my Dad wanted.

Like I had mentioned, my Dad was a fiscal conservative, as kids we called him cheap.  Sunoco at the time had come out with a 190 grade, a step below its 200 regular, and a far cry from Sunoco 260, racing gas at the pump.  The VW was a regular customer, no pun intended, and for $1.50 the tank was filled, the attendant lifting the hood, or was it trunk, anyway it was in front of the car, and filing it.  One day when I was with him, across from us was a new 1968 Corvette, the new Mako Shark  looking ones.  And I couldn’t help myself, but to get out and look at it.  It was beautiful, and it was getting filled with Sunoco 260 at 32 cents a gallon!  Which my Father saw rather than the car it was filling, and telling me “how can anyone afford to fill their car at 32 cents a gallon?”  Sunoco 190 was 23.9 at the time.  One ride would have convinced me it was worth it, a value, or lack of value my father would never see.  Cars were a tool, and later he would trade his VW against a new 1969 BMW 1600, the car that put BMW on the map in the US of A.  A great sports sedan, that he never would use as adviced, a friend had shown him an article in Road & Track,it was one of the 10 Best Cars in the World, and he thought it would last him forever.  Which is another story....

But suffice it to say, my Dad was never a car guy.  And his buying habits were proof of it.  He would joke that “his cars weren’t cars, they were Ramblers,” and I would wince.  But that was my Dad, and he took very good care of us, despite his poor taste in cars.  Basic and to the point, he was like my relationship with God.  The gospel of Jesus Christ is good news.  We have forgiveness in him, and he is the way to his Father in heaven.  Our Father.  The beauty of the gospel is that it is truth, and simple.  So guys like me can get it.  We study to be approved, not saved.  And it is available to anyone and everybody, no matter which Sunoco you put into your car.  For it is free, so we all can afford it, a gift that you cannot earn, lest you should boast.  It is all about Jesus, and without Jesus, Christianity is insanity.  Every promise of God is fulfilled in him, and all are welcomed.  No other religion offers forgiveness, and for free.  Only Jesus does.  He paid the price, so we don’t, because we never could.  Mosaic law only showed our weaknesses, and our half hearted sacrifices showed our true hearts.  Only in Jesus will you find all you ever need.  Sort of like my Dad’s VW.  Everything you need, nothing you don’t.  Unobtrusive, not demanding its own way, and easy to own.  Yet many try to customize their God, making him appear better,when really trying to make themselves look better.  “Look what I did for God,” they rant and rave.  Jesus addressing the church once told them “do not rejoice because you have dominion over devils, rejoice because your name is written in the Book of Life.”  And he tells them “I never knew you.”  WOW!  It really is all about Jesus!  And if you still want to argue, let’s find a cross, and nail you too it.  Three nine inch nails, through your hands and feet.  Your beard pulled out, a crown of thorns pushed into your head.  After being beat 39 times, and hanging there for 6 hours.  While the world passes you by, mocking you, naked and ashamed.  Suddenly simple is the best way, and Jesus is the way....

So maybe my Dad’s VW told us a lot about him.  The bikes we ride and cars we drive tell those around us a lot about us.  But how we live will also tell them a lot  about Jesus in our lives.  Whether at the gas pump, on the way to school, or going about our business, someone is noticing, like the Corvette was being watched that day.  And someone will comment on our actions, and wonder “how can he afford to be a Christian?”  How can you afford to not be?  The truth will set you free, just like it did when the girl tried to lie about the accident.  The fact of Jesus will win out.  And why buy a used God, when you can have a fresh and exciting one?  Who meets all your needs, at the pump and everywhere else?  Or an economy God, who doesn’t have the octane of our God?  Only Jesus saves, and it has been said that at today’s prices, that’s a bargain.  And who can pass up a bargain?  My Dad never could, and he finally was saved later in life.  He asked me once “why did I wait so long?”  Why are you? 

My Father operated on a limited budget.  No budgets in heaven, get from God all the blessings he wants to give, become a child of God today.  Every time I hear the Allman Brothers sing “Lord I was born a Ramblin’ man,” I think of my Dad, a Rambler man.  And the VW that rescued him.  And of a loving God who rescues us. “When it comes to leavin’, I hope you’ll understand....”  I do. Do you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com 

being there when small bikes meant big fun

When Honda first introduced its tiny motorcycles to the Americans in 1959, the ads never mentioned them as motorcycles.  Thanks to The Wild One, all motorcyclists were seen as leather jacket wearing hoodlums, so they just called them Hondas.  Creating not only a brand, but a market standard for years to come.  You never met the nicest people on Harleys, Triumphs, or Nortons, but you did on Hondas.  And thanks to Honda’s success, soon we had Yamahas, Suzukis, and Kawasakis-all from Japan.    All motorcycles, but not wanting to identify with the old standards.  They emphasized fun, good times, and getting out in the wind without the benefit of leather, denim, grease and oil.  Big sisters rode Hondas on campus, kids rode them to school, and America was taken over by them.  Funny looking machines with funny sounding names, that soon matched or exceeded the performance of their bigger cousins, for half the price, and twice the reputation.  Bikes and bikers, motorcycles and motorcyclists were changing, and it was a good time to be a rider.  A time when freedom cost less than $50 for a used 50cc machine, and you were riding.  When 250cc was a big bike, and Triumph’s mighty 650cc was considered real big.  And Harley’s so big they expressed their size in cubic inches, how many knew what you were talking about when you mentioned a “74,”  or riding a “61” down Highway 61?  But we were soon to learn there is no substitute for horsepower, no replacement for displacement.  Today entry level 250cc bikes are making a comeback, yet 500cc is still considered for girls, and 750cc is small.  Bikes we once thought were big and unobtainable are now the standard, with Harleys up to 111 cubic inches, Triumphs up to 2300cc’s, and sport bikes with over 200 horsepower.  Where once a Sportster was defined as “able to grow hair on your chest, and so fast if you already do, it will part it,” today most 500cc bikes will be faster, quicker, handle better,and cost half as much.  Today we start big, and get smaller....presided only over our pocket books and FICO scores. 

But it takes a trip to a vintage bike night, or meet to see how much we have really changed.  Or how much we really haven’t.  The thrill of the open road still exists as ever, never mind the engine size.  And looking at row after row of old bikes, we look at those 250cc and under, and wonder how did we ever ride them?  They were so big then, but seem so small now.  Maybe we were much smaller then also, and the price of our thrills smaller.  But you needed to be there, to  live the times to fully get it, no one who wasn’t will not remember 75 cent fill ups.  The smell of racing caster, or the ring a ding ding of two strokes, and their smoky get away.  Where bike shops were in bicycle stores, sporting goods stores, or just out of town.  When tune ups were monthly, oil changes to most were just adding it to replace what leaked out or was burning, and master links were a part of every rider’s pocket contents.  They had tool kits because they were needed, we changed tires or patched them by the side of the road, and we all had at least one friend with a pick up or van, who we stayed friends with for that occasional ride home we would need.  We knew how much to save for the new sissy bar, or carb rebuild kit.  We took off our pipes to sound fast, added chrome to look like the big guys, and a metal flake helmet was worth the $9.95 it cost in 1972 dollars.  History will eventually rewrite how it was, but there is nothing like being there, living it, and remembering it how it was.  It took all the oil leaks, push starts, and spark plug cleaning to get intimate with our old rides, the push home to be glad we didn’t own such a big bike, and the endless wait until Tuesday when the shops opened up after being closed Sunday and Monday.  It took endless afternoons in class doodling about our rides, afterschool jobs that paid little, and having parents who didn’t get what our problems were when we wanted to ride.  We were rebels to them, and where once it was blamed it on motorcycles, now they blamed Honda.  And Honda cried all the way back to the bank in Japan.

I wonder how many of us even got it back then, or even do now in our memories of the times?  I read articles that are inaccurate, TV shows with clothing from another generation supposed to be real, and cars and bikes that never would be seen together.  How many have caught the 1974 Chevy in American Graffiti, cruising, the theme was “where were you in ‘62?”  Was Chevy really that far ahead of its time?  Yet history, books, movies, and even stories told at bike shows have rewritten history of how it was.  Without being there you never will truly know.  And so it is with God, so many telling us how a Christian should live, or act or behave, or what standards we need to live up to.  It is bad enough out on the street, but when it happens within churches, or is shared at Bible studies, we need to step up and say “enough!”  We need to share our testimonies of how Jesus changed our lives, to show the difference, and love on them.  You can learn theology from a book, but until you study it and get it from a clear mind, until you have personally experienced Jesus, you never truly know who he is.  It takes the hard times, the agonies of life to see the depth in which he loves us, how he never leaves us, and it takes his forgiveness to prove it.  It takes trials and tribulations to see and experience the depth of God, something we all wish to avoid, but find the best testimonies come from the hardest trials.  We see God’s strength made perfect in our weakness, when we finally give up and give it over to him, we see his majesty, grace, and mercy.  Things you can read about and study about, things you can see  in films, but until you experience it personally it isn’t the same.  But yet many try to deter us from God, to keep it impersonal, when God desires just the opposite.  His spirit is always calling out to us, pointing us to Jesus, who points us to God the father.  Some have degrees in theology and have studied about him, I know the author. 

And just like it is in the times of breaking down where we get personal and intimate with our rides, when we lift off the seat, look under the tank, or change our own plugs, it is when the tough times come and we turn to Christ we see a part of him we never would if we hadn’t had the struggle.  Very few pray during good times, we all rush to him when the times are tough.  With only a few remaining after the trial is ended.  And there is never a time when we don’t need a mediator, one to intervene for us in our troubles.  And maybe the greatest lesson we can learn from Job is that we need one, and his name is Jesus.  A true arbitrator tries to make a fair arrangement for both parties, Jesus as our advocate gets us the best deal for us.  Our sin for his love and forgiveness.  Words or theory until you experience it first hand.  Not through husbands or wives, friends or neighbors, or even classmates or the guy sitting next to you in church.  It is that personal.....which is where God separates us from those filling a pew once a week.  Jesus is an everyday, all the time person in our lives.  He promises us good times, blessings, miracles, and eternal life in heaven, that we can have now on earth.  We can ride any size bike, and never feel cheated.  Size doesn’t matter, the fact we ride does, and the fact we know Jesus is what it is all about.  Stop dreaming, start experiencing him now.  For yourself.  It is time to get behind the handlebars and find out what he is all about.

There is nothing like being there.  I rather be in the picture than taking it, I rather be in the story than reading about it.  I want all I can get from God, and Jesus is the way.  Simple and effective.  And available.  So here’s to all the rebels among the rebels, who serve Jesus daily.  Who know the truth and have been set free.  The holy spirit is the ad that entices us, it is Jesus who introduces us to his father, and God who loves us so much he sent him.  Find out for sure, the real thing today.  Seek Jesus, and live life.  Through your own eyes rather than someone else’s.  Know the real truth.  Hondas were and still are motorcycles.  Always have been.  Jesus is God.  Always has been. And we need Jesus.  Honda riders were motorcyclists, and you did meet the nicest people.  Meet the nicest person ever today.  First name basis.  There is nothing like being there, and no one else like Jesus.  You just have to see for your self.....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com