reaction times

It has been sad, and rightly so, that the first auto race occurred when two cars pulled up to a stop together, the driver’s eyes met, and the race was on.  Who was fastest, quickest, and who would get there first, wherever there happened to be.  How many times have you watched American Graffiti, knowing how the race will end, but still excited.  It is the short races, the drag races, that start in a millisecond and are over seconds later that we remember, where fastest doesn’t mean quickest, and the hole shot is everything.  I have a friend Richard who used to drag race Kawasakis back in the seventies, and has an AMA plaque showing his 0.0 reaction time. No over reaction, right on schedule, perfect.  How many times have you come up to a light and the guy next to you revs his engine, trying to impress or intimidate you?  And what do you do with the challenge....losers always have excuses.  Now I am no drag racer, and my reaction times can be measured in days not tenths of a second, but sometimes you just need to protect yourself, your ego, and your image.  And some races are over before they begin....

I had just picked up a Rocket 3 that Mickey had put a Carpenter head on, producing 220 rear wheel horsepower on the dyno.  The redline going from 6500 to 9000, big and scary fast.  Loud like a NASCAR racer on the street, and just as menacing.  I had driven less than a mile, when Mr. Loud Pipes Save Lives pulled up next to me at the light.  Revving his engine, proving his testosterone to be more than any mortal man, he looked me over, “let’s race!”  Until I revved up the Rocket, and the race was over.  It was loud, scary loud, and anything that made a noise like that had to be fast.  And as the light turned green, he putt putted away, race over, I had shut him down before I even left the line.  Later riding down the 22 I wondered why everyone was driving so slow in light traffic, and looked down and saw 120 on the speedo.  Later I would cruise at 125@8000 rpm, in third gear, this was stupid fast as someone would later hang a sign on.  I later found out its sister bike went 8.99@155 mph in the quarter.  And for the week I had it, I knew that anything that challenged me I could beat.  Bring on the challengers, let’s race.  If only in my mind...and for one brief shining moment I was fast, and a champion, never having to prove it. 

Blame it all on Jungle Jim Liberman, and his Funny Car at Raceway Park.  In the early seventies Wednesday night meant drag racing there, and the funny cars were new and exciting.  And Jungle Jim was the man to beat.  Against such foes as Dyno Don Nicholson, Fearless Fred Goeske, Don”the Snake” Prudhomme, and Connie Kalitta, he was the fastest.  And everyone loved him.  And his pit crew, Jungle Pam, she of hot pants, halter tops, and tall boots.  It was a show, and at show time Jungle Jim delivered.  Sitting at Row E, the starting line, we went home deaf from the noise, and smelling of rubber and bleach from the burnouts.  The Pinto we drove in was our race car on the way home, and every light a chance to prove how fast we weren’t, I was no Jungle Jim, and the Pinto was no funny car, although it was the butt of jokes.  And over the years I have had friends with fast cars, Jay and his 1969 SS396, Por Favor had a red one, Vinny with his 1969 Boss 302, O’Grady with a 1967 Chevelle four door sedan,with a hot engine in it, stolen from a professional race team, it always idled funny, and no one ever wanted a return race with it.  And at the local Mickey D’s,where they all hung out, they ruled, until we pulled in with our motorcycles, and suddenly they were fast, but not the fastest.  Never a race to prove it, but the fact was well known among guys who like to go fast.  It seemed we all worshipped at the altar of speed, just in different cars and motorcycles, but speed, going fast quickly was still our god, and many gave their life in it.  Never knowing the true God, the one who created and loved them. 

Today we have divided into many denominations, each choosing to worship God their way, thinking it the best.  They have established rules and classes, and how to worship God.  But often fall short, forgetting about the person, and emphasizing on the denomination.  But like in drag racing, you are on your own, and the relationship between you and God comes down to you and God.  But when led by the spirit you can escape the rules, still live within them, but in freedom.  We forget sometimes that it is all about Jesus, not our church, the programs, the pastor, his books, or the TV show.  We have become desensitized, and fall into a rut, thinking this is all there is.  And then we find we can go deeper, faster and quicker in Christ than we ever thought, and soon we leave the pack behind.  Jesus has made it personal, and our reaction times change.  We see things his way, and soon find ourselves closer to him, and exhibiting the things of Christ.  We see his character in us via his fruits, the love and joy, along with peace and patience.  We don’t have to be the first or fastest, and when we follow the spirit have wisdom we never knew was there.  We see things clearly, clearer than before, for now we see things through God’s eyes, who see everything.  And when the competition comes via temptation or a trial, we know we have all the power we need, and in meekness can apply it.  No burnouts, but power fully under control, burnouts look cool, but when your wheels are spinning the power is not getting to the ground.  But when that perfect power gains contact, we then go forward, in control.  That is meekness, and just like a wheelie looks cool, you need both wheels on the ground to handle correctly.  Don’t let your show be more than your go.

That morning at the light, Mr. Loud Pipes kept revving his motor, real racers don’t, they know a launch rpm and maintain it. What happens if while revving your engine you back off and the flag drops?  You stall.  That morning I opened it up full and held it there.  Only a few seconds, but the message was sent.  And the response appropriate...

How we respond to the power of God will show in the power of our love he gives to us.  When his love agape shows through us, that love that puts all above us, who makes their concerns more important than ours, when we can act with the other persons best interest in mind, then we see that kind of love in action.  But it must be and can only be spirit based, as we can never love that way on our own.  We may rev our engines louder, louder than anyone else, but when the flag drops and we need to show that love, we need Jesus.  And that supernatural love is available from God, it is not difficult, all you need to do is become aware of it, and call on him.  Trust him.  Follow him.  And when you begin to see how much he loves you, you will begin to love others as he has loved and forgiven you. 

Meekness is nothing more than power under control, not losing traction, knowing the friction zone, and employing it.  It works in racing, and it works in love too.  Your actions may be important, but never as important as your reactions.  React in love, never lose traction in the spirit, and live in meekness.  No substitute for cubic inches other than love, no replacement for displacement other than Jesus.  We run the race to win, to gain the prize, but first you must finish, what is your reaction to that?  Better yet, who?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

Betty or Veronica?

The relationship between boys and girls sometimes sneaks up on you.  Such was the case at Shackamaxon Elementary School for me.  All through the lower grades, k-5 girls were forbidden fruit, they had cooties, and the cool guys stayed away from them, as we were preoccupied with kickball and reading about the Hardy Boys.  But as we approached the sixth grade, the summer before going back to school saw changes in us.  Blame it on Archie Andrews, the eternal teenager in Archie comics, but suddenly girls became attractive.  Or not quite as yuckie.  And Archie and his forever girl friends, Betty and Veronica, showed us older women. they of high school, in a different light.  They were pretty, and soon a topic of discussion entered our man type discussions.  Where before it was Schwinn or Rollfast, or Good Humor vs. Mr. Softee, now we had to decide who we thought was prettier, Betty or Veronica.  And not only our conversations would change, but so would our attitudes, our social group that would now include girls, and our spending habits, as we learned that two cannot eat for the same price as one.  And the multiplication we struggled through became a reality, we learned to do things x2.  But old Archie was to have an effect on us we hadn’t realized, and although goofy with freckles, a hardship at our school, still the two prettiest girls chased after him.  He was cool without being cool, and we never would admit it to others, or even ourselves, but we wanted to be Archie, to have the girls fight over us.  We weren’t sure why, but if it worked for Archie, how could it not work for us? 

And so the age old question of Betty or Veronica was passed onto our class.  And deep discussions were to become a part of sleeping out nights in a tent.  Both girls adored Archie, they chased after him, but after that is where the girls were to differ.  Veronica was dark haired and sultry, slightly devious, and rich, her Dad had money, which she reminded Archie of often.  Who wouldn’t want a girl friend who had a built in pool, a weekly allowance equal to your yearly take, dressed in the latest fashions, and wanted you badly?  And then there was Betty, sweet, honest, the cheerleader type, and who didn’t have the money or class of Veronica.  But she was blond, and we all knew blonds have more fun.  But more fun than what, and we were willing to forego the money and the pool for the risk of a good time.  Each of us presenting our case, with the others nodding in agreement until the next opinion was told.  Life was tough for being in sixth grade, Betty and Veronica didn’t help make it any easier.  If that was high school, what could junior high next year have in store for us?  And so the criteria of asking a girl for a date was established, and the saga of Betty or Veronica continues today, and of Archie.  Who was smarter than all of us combined, for we never understood his choice, or really lack of one.

You see he never chose one over the other.  So they kept after him, neither girl lost, but neither one won either.  He kept the competition alive, keeping their hopes up, but never giving in to them.  He was smarter than any high school kid I ever knew, and smarter than most male adults I have known.  He never gave in, and in doing so kept them competing for him the past 70+ years.  And just as he never said yes to one, he never had to say no to the other.  Archie and his adventures continue on today, the world’s oldest teenager, but based on his insight I could see him in politics, firmly planted on both sides of an issue.  Maybe Betty and Veronica had more to do with his education and ours than we realized, and Archie in every battle never lost.  But maybe he never won either.

Just as Archie was always in high school, no younger days or stories are known or told about him, his story begins and ends there.  What about the gospel?  So when asked about the gospel, what do you say?  Where does it begin and where does it end?  Consider a minute the three elements, his death, burial, and resurrection.  Not his birth and high school years, his career, or much of his life before age 30.  If you say Jesus lived and died, that isn’t the gospel. Philosophers believe that, so do pagan religions and some cults.  And outside of Christian churches his life ends at his death, there is no good news in that, but for us that is where life begins, and the the gospel comes to life.  We see where he died for our sins, so that we may have life eternal, and that is the gospel.  His death changes us and sets us free.  But it doesn’t end there....

But when he died he was buried by his disciples, ever wonder what they thought about?  Their leader, their hopes and dreams physically died, and his burial was final, or so they thought.  Isn’t death and burial final for us?  They had to deal with the fact he was dead, just like he said he would, stunned and shocked, some even falling into unbelief, they had to face the fact of burying him.  They had to claim the body and dispose of it properly.  They embalmed him and wrapped him in burial clothes, there was no doubt he was dead, and it showed the acceptance that Jesus Christ was dead, crucified on the cross.  They had performed the service themselves, there was no doubt he was dead.  Some beliefs end there, but scripture doesn’t, for on the third day Jesus was resurrected.  Just as he had told them, and just as he assures us today.  He was not resuscitated, but resurrected.  He had come back to a life he had never lived before, but with wounds to prove it was him, the wounds endured on the cross, and the same wounds that they recognized from preparing him for burial.  It was Jesus, resurrected, and no one else.  A glorified life that he tells us that we can have too, if we choose him. 

Yet many fall into Archie’s way, choosing neither.  Not realizing that saying not saying yes to Jesus is really saying no.  For the gospel rests on facts, not philosophy, trends, style, religion, or denominational beliefs.  It is all about the fact that Jesus died, was buried, and was resurrected.  That’s good news, that is the gospel.  It doesn’t rest on deep theological discussions, or on learned men making decisions.  It is the spirit calling to us and us answering “yes, I need Jesus.”  Confessing our sins, and being born again.  Simple.  We die to sin, but are resurrected in Jesus.  The evidence is there, the spirit is calling, who do you say Jesus is? 

The good news is he is patient so that none be lost to hell.  Today is the day of salvation, but also the death of others.  The death rate stands at 100%, an all time high.  Where you go after is up to you.  The disciples buried Jesus knowing he was dead, don’t let his story in your life end there.  Eternity greets all of us, even Archie.  And Betty and Veronica.  You may be the Archie not willing to choose, but someday you will be confronted with the choice.  Heaven or hell?  Jesus or death?  If only Archie’s choice was so easy.  But his legend lives on, as does the devil’s desire for your soul.  I had a choice to make when I got married, and chose the one I loved.  It was her choice too, and God has chosen you.  That’s a fact, not a philosophy.  And the correct answer is the gospel of Jesus Christ, and your answer is....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

another Joe story

Years ago I had a friend named Joe, who at one time had been a tuner for Cal Rayborn, who at one time was a great motorcycle racer.  Both were from San Diego,and among the old timers in the bike shops you would hear stories of Cal, how they knew him as a kid, a young racer with talent, and it seems each one had a Cal story, or knew one, or had heard one.  But to those who got into motorcycling after 1973, they never got to know Cal, as he crashed during testing in New Zealand.  This two time Daytona 200 winner and top ranked racer was Cal to everyone, but always Calvin to Joe, and his stories were always ended with “oh Calvin....”  Joe really knew him, and was his friend.  The rest of us were just fans.  But the stories of Calvin were interlaced with many other Joe stories, and as Joe and I got to be friends, his wife an expert cake decorator made all our birthday cakes, he got me deals on parts and was my go to guy for motorcycles in the pre-Mickey era.  As crusty as the old timers were, Joe stood out, maybe it was the Castrol sticker on his wooden leg, I always swore if I got a wooden leg it would have a Castrol sticker on it, but I think it was because he had really been there, had known Calvin and the others, and spoke from the heart, at least as well as the mind would recall.  My 20 minute visits turned into two hour visits, both of us thankful for the break from day to day life.  But one morning he told me another story, non-Calvin based, and maybe for the first time I saw him upset. 

Joe lived in an older subdivision in Chula Vista, and had raised his family there and he and his wife still live some many years later.  But when he had come home one night after wrenching all day found a notice on his front door that his house had been condemned.  A Friday to be sure, why do we always get bad news on Friday nights when we can’t do anything about it until Monday?  But after stewing all weekend, and he and his wife fussing, Monday morning he went downtown to city hall and found the right person, who could explain why his home was being taken from him.  It seems that many new EPA regulations had gone into effect since the fifties, and Joe’s house was built before they went into place.  And according to the books, his property was still zoned as industrial, and his address was listed as a truck stop.  Which it had been in the twenties, some 70 years ago at the time.  Before it was subdivided and hoses built.  And the EPA wanted to raze the house, dig up all the ground and clean it up, all at Joe’s expense.  It didn’t matter it had a house built on it for over 45 years, the paperwork said truck stop, and so it was.  Not any other home in the subdivision, only his.  And according to the young guy from the government trying to help him, the books said truck stop, so truck stop it was.  And the battle began...

Now back in the seventies I worked at a petroleum jobber, and we sold used oil to the BLM to be spread on dirt roads in the National Forests, it helped keep the dust down and in its pre-asphalt state provided some protection from erosion.  Not today, where we are so pure and clean in body and mind, so you can only imagine the oil and grease Joe’s house was built on, thirty years of truck stop oil and grease as a foundation.  And Joe fought it.  Better than I would, and without a lawyer.  He had an old friend in the city government, an old time employee, and he came out and took pictures of Joe’s house, confirming the address, and that it was in a residential area.  No court hearings, no meetings and zoning commission nonsense, his friend simply went back in the files, corrected the error, added the pictures and testimony if any questions arose, and Joe’s house was once again Joe’s home.  Proving the value of old friends, common sense in action, and giving a whole new meaning to “hi I’m from the government and I’m here to help.”  Be it ever so humble, there truly is no place like home.

Scripture tells us “that the wise man built his house upon the rock,and when the storms came it withstood them.”  Words in red spoken by Jesus.  Words we believe, until we get in a crisis, and panic.  Joe didn’t panic in a panic situation, at least not too much.  But in Paul’s writings he uses a Greek word “oikodomen,” which takes two words, house and build and ties them together.  The idea is to build a house on a solid foundation, and in the context to tell us we have a solid foundation in Jesus.  We sing songs about that wise man building his house, but do we live it?  We are new creatures in Christ, not rebuilt or renovated, totally new, in fact the old man has passed away.  RIP.  But yet when trouble strikes, we worry, fret, forget, and turn from God trying to figure it out ourselves.  And then the real problems begin.  We have to come to grips with our new identity in Christ, and although we may not understand the spiritual transformation, we are now children of a living, loving God.  We have a new identity in Christ.  But too many times we fall back on old feelings and old ways, and end up like Joe’s house was, condemned and worrying.  Yet there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, we are forgiven.  Can we act that way?

When we rely on our emotions we are like a ship tossed on the waves, boing where it takes us.  We become emotional retards, and useless to all including ourselves.  But when we seek the spirit in all things, we can have insight, wisdom, and know God has everything under control.  We can have joy, which doesn’t mean the absence of suffering, but the presence of God, fruit of the spirit.  Of God.  To strengthen and encourage us in the situation, for God has everything under control.  He knows the outcome, when it will end and how, and will take us through it.  The spirit will steady and strengthen you, anybody need a little steadiness on the rough roads of life?  Call on Jesus, and by his spirit, you will be saved, eternally, right now, and you will have built your house upon the rock, no matter who you were before.  No matter the sins or how dirty your deeds were.  Jesus cleanses us from sin....and our past.

Every time I see On Any Sunday, or read about motorcycling racing, or read about how it was back then, I think of Joe and Calvin.  Not Cal, but Calvin.  Friends and fellow bikers, who had motorcycles in common.  And I got to know Calvin through Joe.  Do people get to know Jesus through you?  Is your house built upon the rock of Christ, or on shifting sands?  We saw the results of shifting sands at the Race of Gentlemen two weeks ago, cancelled when the high tide washed out the track.  Race cancelled, show over.  The next day the sun was out again....don’t miss Jesus by one day, build on him today, and when the storms come, you still can ride.  He will take you through the storms of life.  Don’t let the race of your life be called due to rain, seek Jesus now.  He will put himself in your place, so sometime you can put yourself in the place of others.  Love will do that, nothing else will.  No emotion can substitute for the joy Jesus brings to life.  And how he brings scripture to life.

There are other Joe stories, about how he lost his leg and about the Castrol sticker.  It seems sometimes bad decisions make for better stories, only in Christ will you find the happy ending you desire.  You can only imagine the stories Joseph, Jesus earthly father can tell, now those would be another Joe story I would like to hear.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the Chino look with the cool of Johnny

 In the beginning there were bicycles, and man saw it was good.  But then he added a motor, and things got better.  Soon bigger and more powerful motors were built and we all went faster.  But for almost 80 years the styling stayed the same, as it was all about the motor part of the motorcycle.  Willie G. he of Davidson fame built the first “ factory custom” for 1971, and then the race was on.  Kawasaki followed soon after, with the Z-1 LTD adding power to styling, and soon every manufacturer had a factory built custom.  From ideas that started in our garages, to going into limited production when our friends wanted one just like it, we all want to individualize our rides, to make them more personal.  Remember the first Gold Wing, a bare bones bike, and soon the after market had it filled with bags, fairings, and radios.  Custom seats, and today the catalogs are inches thick.  But soon the factories wised up, why let the aftermarket build what we can do in house, and soon the things we customized with became standard equipment.  And one by one, the small guys either got bought up, dried up, or went riding.  The factories had the engineering, marketing, and could warranty the accessories, and you could finance them along with the bike’s purchase price.  Nothing fits like factory parts, and soon all manufacturers joined in, raking in profits, giving us what we wanted, no longer custom, now assembly line mandated.

Cars and trucks are the same, look at radios that are now sound systems, better from the factory than most after market stuff back then, cheaper and built in, and warranteed.  Same with wheels, phones, and on trucks, rear bumpers.  Which my friend Milton had a part in, no pun intended.  Back in the seventies, when Japanese trucks invented the small truck market, they were bare bones.  And came with no rear bumpers, no aftermarket even existed for them yet.  But Milt went to work for a company who built them, and was so successful that Nissan, then Datsun, took them over, and started making them available from the factory, pushing Fay out of the way, and Milton, who had put them on the map searching for other work.  They could do it better, cheaper, and in house had more control over them, read that as more profit, and soon all truck manufacturers went that way.  My friend Milt was there, and the stories he can tell....

But back to bikes, I have endured the chopper, café racer, track bike, and the cycle is coming about again.  But with a new twist, bobbers.  Where choppers were unrideable, overpriced, and ill handling, and as café racers were fast, uncomfortable, overpriced, but did handle, bobbers are the newest craze.  And this week Triumph joined the ranks, with their Bonneville Bobber.  Few know or will recall that we didn’t chop Harleys 40 years ago, it was Triumphs. And now Triumph is going head to head with any Sportster model Harley can offer, but adds power, brakes, handling, and looks.  So you can be an individual not looking like every other Harley rider with loud pipes and shiny leather.  Yeah we can tell who you posers are, and now Triumph is in the Bobber business.  At first a factory bobber put me off, but where Harley adds weight, Triumph reduces it by removing heavy, non-essential pounds via styling and has hit it.  I can’t wait to get a press bike to ride....then I will give you a full report, but with the new 1200cc HT engine, high toque, it should fly.  And the sound...I can’t wait for the first set of loud pipes that save lives bike to challenge me.  If the looks don’t get it, the performance will.  You started it Willie G., the Brits just made it better.  Think of it as The Wild One custom updated, the Chino look with the Johnny cool.

We all like to get gifts, and many of like to give them too.  Paul talks about the gifts of the spirit, and much has been said, written, taught, trying to apply them to Christians.  But we always look at it from having the gift, rather than God giving us the gift.  When I was miraculously healed with open heart surgery, I was given the gift of healing.  When taken in graciously, was shown the gift of hospitality.  When I participate in an organized run, I get the gift of organization.  All gifts come from God, who loves to bless his kids.  So let him.  But after explaining the gifts and how they are to be desired, he goes on in the next chapter to tell about fruit.  Love, joy, and peace, and the others.  Fruit that is produced in us via the holy spirit, fruit we cannot produce on our own.  It is spirit driven, hence the name of the spirit, and only when we receive the forgiveness through Jesus do we get them.  And when talking of love, he doesn’t mean love for man or erotic love, but agape, God’s love, a love that is the will to uphold and cherish another person.  Like Jesus did for us, and does everyday.  It is a decision to work for the other person’s best interests, showing concern, care, and thoughtfulness.  And then the fruits start to appear, supernaturally, as God’s love is so different than any other love man can provide.  When we love him first, then we can love our neighbor as ourself.  With no reservation, unconditionally.  And no man can love another, or forgive another if he is not loved first, and forgives and loves himself.  Unlike the choppers, café racers, and bobbers, God’s factory work will never be duplicated, and cannot be improved upon.  All the parts fit, they function together, and are backed up by his lifetime warranty. 

And it is not difficult, God made the gospel simple and easy for guys like me.  Trust Jesus, let him take away your sin and guilt, be saved and be loved.  Then repeat it with others.  Not in competition, but in your daily walk or ride.

All Milt got is great memories and a fat paycheck.  But when the paycheck ended, and the memories went on, he found all he needed in Jesus.  Today he sports the Jesus cool with his Chino look, and lives the life and bears the fruit.  All in love because of his relationship with Jesus Christ.  This year it is bobbers, last year it was choppers.  Our love for style will change but our love for God should not, his for us doesn’t.  Check him out today, find all that you were looking for and more, from the creator.  He uses factory parts, and who better to fix you when you break than he who created you?  From bumpers to bags to radios to fairings, things change.  Jesus never did, and never does.  And is much cooler than Johnny ever was.  He was the original rebel, standing up to the laws and prejudice of it.  But doing it in love.  Jesus rides, adventure bikes, choppers, bobbers, and café racers.  You never know who is behind the Arai at the light, so show him love.  He may not be as cool as you, and Jesus is the coolest.  I’m going riding....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspotcom

 

cars I never owned

While getting some fine points ironed out on Theresa’s birthday present, a 2015 Mustang convertible, red of course, the dealer loaned us cars from their pre-owned, used car selection.  Nice cars, still within the new range of a year old, but not her Mustang.  And I wondered how many people just bought cars like this, throw away non-descript but reliable transportation, but with all the excitement of being in a coma, I was in one for 8 days. And I don’t remember anything other than waking up.  So we were delighted when we got her car back, and I thought about cars I’ve owned, and cars I wouldn’t own, and cars I never have owned. Most based on perception...

I have never owned a Volvo, although those sport wagons from the early seventies had some class to them.  But otherwise too practical, plus I won’t wear a beret or smoke a pipe.  And from what I can see, those cars had to be safety minded because their owners weren’t.  Safety isn’t going 50 on the freeway, in the fast lane!  I have never owned a Chrysler product, and now since FIAT owns them, I don’t see myself ever owning one.  Something about that Chrysler crank, remember that starter noise from the sixties, that made you wonder if parts were coming off?  And what about the rear view mirror on the dash so you can’t see?  Great motors, accelerated rusting of bodies, but the cops loved them, and Jake Blues owned one.  MOPAR-Move Over Parts Are Rusting.  The suicide doors on the early sixties Lincolns are cool, but always out of my price range.  Stately and elegant, but not the same class as the 1967 Sedan De Ville I owned once.  No wonder GM used to rule the world.  I almost bought an Oldsmobile once, but now they’re gone, and came close to a few Pontiacs, RIP too.  But cars I would like to own, never have, but still would like too, if even in my dreams. 

I would like to have an old Studebaker pickup, from before the Lark front end was grafted on.  Or a 1960 Chevy pickup, with those ugly eyebrows, cool.  A 1965 Chevy Impala Super Sport, red with black interior and black vinyl roof, 4 on the floor, like Scotty’s brother had.  I’ve owned three Rabbits, even an early 1975, but never a Bug, but Theresa did when we got married, does that count?  A Super Beetle at that...A 1969 Chevelle SS396, the go fast car in my high school parking lot, burnouts at 3 everyday, bring your own bleach.  But its seems the car I owned said something about me, but the cars I didn’t own said even more.  But what of my wish list, notice used cars, fleet cars, and newer models aren’t mentioned.  Am I stuck in the past, or hasn’t the future caught up to me yet?  Is there something intrinsic about the older cars missing in new ones.  Do I remember they were new once also, and who in 1960 would ever think their old work truck would be desirable over 50 years later?  I could go on about Kaisers, Corvettes-white 1962 with silver cove please, another 1950 Buick with that toothy grill, or even a Corvair, but never a Chrysler, Volvo, FIAT, VW, or a sedan, of any make.  You see there are cars in my family tree that are there for a reason, just as there are cars that aren’t.  For a reason.  But together make up our automotive family, our community of cars.

But as much as some cars are only desired, some are purchased.  The ones I haven’t owned remain that way for a reason, they just don’t fit me.  They may be desirable, but not ownable, and therefore are not part of my auto family or history.  People are like that too, and I tire of hearing how we are all children of God, especially from other Christians when the Bible tells us we are not.  That being a child of God is bestowed upon those who are saved, and as salvation is a gift, so is being part of God’s family.  The invite is there, but many don’t answer yes, but still can to claim the rights.  God still loves them, and his spirit is still calling them to Jesus to be saved, but they are not family.  Just like a car title, it says your name right there on the pink, and without it you maybe renting, borrowing, or even making payments, but until the title is in your name with no lien holder, it isn’t yours. 

Satan held the title to us once, and Jesus paid it off.  We are part of the family, which consists of Jesus and his church us.  And God designed the body with Jesus as the head, we are the torso.  And with no head, or headship, we cannot function as we are designed to.  So how do we get to be part of this body of Christ?  How do we become part of this living entity, how can we learn to function as part of it?  For one thing, we are not born into as an infant is, but born again into it by the spirit.  We believe Jesus as deity, confess our sins, and we become part of the body.  But since not all are born into this body, how do we enter and then grow as one, for as we are one body, we each have different functions.  Again by the spirit, born again, then driven by the spirit given us upon salvation.  The spirit baptizes us into one body, the baptism predicted by John the Baptist and fulfilled by Jesus himself.  Revealed on the day of Pentecost, and continually fulfilled everyday in those who have turned to Jesus.  We don’t go to church, we are the church.

But the church was never designed to be a group of religious people designed to meet together to enjoy mutually linked and desired functions.  It should never be a clique.  It is to be alive in the spirit, we are to be alive in the same life, belonging to the same God, filled by the same spirit, who gives us spiritual gifts, who are intended to work together to function as one.  That is the church, us.  To be ambassadors, to change the world in Christ by his spirit.  We are not many bodies or denominations, but one body with Jesus as the head, and expressing his love through us.  Yet many add Jesus to the list of things they don’t have, or sadder yet don’t desire.

The Book of Life will be the title to heaven, and to whom we belong.  With no title, no ownership, with no Jesus no entry.  You may desire the things of heaven, even go to church, but your God may be a rental car, an SUV, or a mini van, trying to fit in with the rest, accepted but not saved.  Some cars are just transportation, a life in Christ is much more.  It is exciting, vibrant, surprising, and alive.  More than just a function, he is life.  And gives you life.  We live in a sedan world, your God doesn’t need to be.  Breakout and find joy in the spirit.  Enjoy the abundant life Jesus promises for you, while here on earth.  You may not ever own the car of your dreams, but you can have your dreams fulfilled in Christ.  For one bright shining moment you may enjoy that new car smell, but you can have that sweet smell of salvation forever. 

Now about cars I never owned....blame it on motorcycles, but that’s a different story.

love with compassion,

Mike

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