the poor riders will always be among us

They are referred to as group rides, but more aptly described as crowd rides.  And I think I may have finally done my last and final one.  For many years we have been part of the Toy Store Invasion, riding en mass to Rady’s Children’s Hospital and giving out toys to the patients there, while ministering to both patients and families.  But times change, I blamed myself at first but was assured by others this ride it wasn’t just me.  A crowd of only 197, their head count showed up, as opposed to the 500 they advertised, and immediately the older guys could be separated from the younger ones.  True it was 47 cold So Cal degrees, but to the new ones in was Arctic cold.  And with more donuts than coffee, the latte riders had to face a reality outside of their SUV’s.  When it became time to leave, we had warned my friend, his first time here, watch out for yourself, too many of these people do not know how to ride... sadly they backed up my words.  But before leaving, I did visit with some old friends, seems most of them don’t ride much anymore, and even the so called motorcycle ministries segregated themselves away from the crowds.  Passing out info tracts is not ministry and inviting someone to a meeting is not evangelism, as one man learned, funny how he talked to me while the others in their cuts ignored him.  And he had wanted to join before he was snubbed!  I guess some things don’t change.  But soon we were off, and the chrome and leather set proved they had more invested in the look than learning how to ride.  With one group of HOG women, really piglets by their skills and looks, continually stalling, causing sudden braking form behind.  Then weaving in traffic while trying to catch up.  Their only attribute they all had on full face helmets to conceal their identity....and after one good look, for our protection, too.

Now it had always been the bikes that brought out the kids, but this year we had to park 200 feet away, leaving large open areas where we used to park and the kids could sit on our bikes.  Even Santa showing up on a Harley drew a small crowd.  True one to one ministry and memories, but not this last Saturday.  It seemed many kids bowed out this year, it used to take hours to let them choose a toy, this year the lot was half empty in 45 minutes.  True any kids were o sick to come out, but the attitude was different, and they could tell.  With the ministry performed looking like as selfie convention, except for the few who wanted to film the kids, with one person getting upset with me for pointing out the no camera stickers on the kids.  Maybe she forgot why we went, it wasn’t about us...But it seems the loud pipes save lives crowd reminded us that only loud Harley pipes do, as when some R-1 Yamaha showed up and revved up their bikes, the crowd booed.  Long after the stench of unburned hydrocarbons has left, that will still stick in a few minds.  And like my first time rider friend told me, “no more crowd rides for me.  Don’t these people know how to ride?  And sadly, where is the ministering?”

For us it was at lunch when we ran into a man from my flock, and we bought him lunch.  He doesn’t ride, the bus is a big ordeal as he is medicated, and passed over by society. But that afternoon he opened up and shared some memories, and felt right at home with the three of us on bikes.  Jesus told us the poor will always be among us, and how he was the original one percenter.  While some ministries brag on numbers, he reminds us how he went back for the one in 99 who was lost.  One may be the loneliest number, but when we put him first it is the most important one.  And it just isn’t the poor riders who are among us.

A couple tells me of how after over 30 years ministering on the street they are quitting.  The market for the homeless has changed, and they predict based on what they see that only 5% of the blankets and clothes handed out to the so called homeless actually receive them.  They are taken by those who take them to Tijuana and sell at swap meets, traded for drugs, and the leftovers for rags.  The really needy get stampeded and passed over.  But yet as many social groups, churches, ministries, and others give at Christmas, and go home feeling good about what they have done, it is cold in January too, and even after Jesus fed the 5000, the next day the crowd was hungry again.  At least he sent the disciples home each with a basket to share the next day, to remind them of what he had done, and also leave the area cleaner than when they arrived.  With one group of homeless mocking one day saying “I hear apples taste good, but we have no teeth to eat them.”  Or one church that sent over 100 prom dresses for the homeless.  But God did them one better, as they were donated to poor prom attenders, who wouldn’t have gone because of lack of funds.  God can and does take a bad time and turn it to good. 

When working for Roger Penkse we learned teamwork is seeing a need and filling it.  Same with ministry, how much do you give when no one is looking?  Does it take the poor riders to remind us of the poor around us?  And how they too have needs?  The world is changing rapidly, Jesus is the same now and forever.  We still are his hands and feet, not needed as he has angels to assist, but wants us to get involved and see him in action, to tell others of his blessings, and to bless us as we do.  Something to remember next time you wear your Jesus colors in public and cannot understand why they ignore you.  Jesus spent his ministry on the road, not in meetings bragging on how they showed up or the the great things they had done.  Remember it is the church he condemns for their selfish actions in his name, and claims he never knew them.  And you thought the Pharisees were bad enough!

So no more crowd rides for me, or runs.  I like to ride and to minister too much.  And to those in Christian ministry, I reach out to you, with a question. I’ve been there, and am actively involved in it. So I can comment.   What if I was the one in 99 and saw your patch and had questions?  Better yet, what if that one was you?  Loud pipes save lives on sport bikes too, only Jesus knows the difference.  Do you?

Jesus wore no colors, do you need them to show you are a Christian?  If Jesus took a selfie, would you be in it?  Would he be in yours.....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com.
NOTE! all above photos from 2013 and 2011

but how do the windows roll down?

Back before an era of climate controlled interiors, those of us destined to ride in the middle class of cars referred to interior cooling as 360 air.  Roll down all the windows and let the air rush in.  Need a higher blower speed, accelerate.  And life was simple, if not warmer in these pre-fake news global warming times.  We usually had vinyl seats that our bare legs would stick to and burn, and the importance of calling “window seat” had a true meaning and purpose. Something most kids born after MTV have no inkling about.  Today Mom just pushes the button the remote to start the car and cool it off, then get in and drive away, while talking on her cell about how rough her day is and the unbearable heat.  With each other passenger on his or her i-pod, and we call it a family conversation....

My 2003 ford Ranger is basic, rubber floor and roll up windows.  “Don’t all windows roll up?” you say.  Well not all, witness to many sedans with fixed rear windows, not even a dog wants to ride there, no place to hang his head out.  But for the rest of us, yes they do all roll up.  A problem a nephew of mine faced a few years back.  Graduated from college now, he was riding in the Ranger with my wife and asked “Auntie, how do you roll the windows down?”  A strange request on two levels for a post MTV kid, one why roll them down, and two, he couldn’t find the switch.  So after carefully showing him the window crank, the puzzled look told her “by hand?”  And of course getting resistance, was smart enough too turn it the other way.  Almost exhausting himself after a few cranks, but he did get the window down.  And hasn’t asked to ride in the Ranger since!  I can hear his version of the bravery and persistence it took, bragging to his friends, “it was tough, had to use all my strength, but I finally got it...”  and the call them the good old days?

Maybe we aren’t quite removed from the past as we think, as some 25 years ago my son wanted to know what the dial was for on my Grandmother’s phone?  And dialing, found it a novelty.  But in an emergency what would he have been able to do, pick up the phone and just yell into it?  Start dialing, never knowing it only took seven numbers, at one time only three, and finally figure it out before the house had turned to ashes?  Same with that strange third pedal in old cars, what does it do?  Just think, driving a clutch, dialing a phone, or rolling down a window manually, all by ourselves.  Take that i-pad!  Cue in Twilight Zone theme...

Now being a low tech man in a high tech world may be scary to some, to me it gives me an advantage.  It makes me think, something we are slowly being robbed of by computers that think for us.  How many know phone numbers any more, but know where to look for them?  Or add and subtract, ever wince as you watch a high school kid make change?  “Let’s see, the bigger ones are 5 cents, the dark ones are a penny, but why are the dimes smaller but worth more?”  Didn’t counting change used to make cents/sense?  Now I am not anti-technology, give me air on hot days, give me fuel injection and electric start, but let me participate in the events, no matter how miniscule they seem.  Sadly few will ever know the thrill of downshifting and sliding sideways, of burning rubber, or how good wind feels in your face on a cool night.  Only a dog will know...if he is old enough to remember.  And so it is, and so it was, and so it shall be.....with a few exceptions.

Jesus Christ will always be the same.  Think on that a moment, he never changes.  Styles change, worship songs change, religion changes.  But he remains the same.  But for argument’s sake, let’s see how it would be if he did?  What would happen if God woke up on the wrong side of his bed?  What if he got fed up and didn’t want to answer your prayers any more?  Or forgive you?  What if the tiniest infraction of the law was broken and you faced the harsh punishments?  What if your prayers fell on a deaf ear or he put you on hold?  Befriended you on Facebook?  Didn’t answer your emails, took you off  Instagram?  Yet we act towards him as if he doesn’t care or answer when we don’t get our way.  Sound familiar....

One afternoon in my prayer time, God asked me “why do you think I want people to be like me and not like you?”  Without multiple choice being offered.  After a few seconds to collect my thoughts, you never want to answer God wrong, he told me “so that people can be forgiven and be like me.  And not like you.”  A harsh reality some of us in ministry face, as we build churches and wish to control or shepherd the flock. But Jesus never changes, so we know what to expect, and don’t have to wonder what kind of mood he is in.  To doubt our salvation, or wonder as some performance based religions and cults do, are we ever going to make heaven? Did we do enough?   How do you see Jesus when you pray?  Do you ask expecting, or just hoping he will answer?  Remember just like us, saying nothing is saying no. 

Is it possible you are stuck in a religion with roll up windows, and cannot find the crank?  Are you expecting to hear from Jesus, but don’t know how to dial the prayer line?  Are you stuck sitting because you are perpetually in neutral, and the only sound you get when trying get in gear is grinding?  Could the answer be as close as a thought without having to Google it?  Jesus gave us his spirit so we are never alone, wherever two or three are gathered in his name, he is there.  You and the spirit make two, and in the eyes of the law, it only takes two to confirm the witness and enter it as fact.  Could that blank face staring back at you on the screen be you, who cannot change or answer prayers?  Maybe it is time for Jesus....

To feel the wind of the spirit in your face, to get into the right gear, and remember his number, he has written it on our hearts already.  To go back to the highest tech creator ever, God, who out of nothing created the heavens and the earth.  Without our help or assistance.  That God, who sent his son to die so we can be reunited with him.  Who would have ever thought  that salvation is simpler than opening a window? 

Next week, how is it possible to have over 200 channels and there is nothing on to watch.....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

the wrong tool for the right job-but not Whitworth

I first learned about the mystery of round bolt heads from some vintage Triumph riders years ago.  Only the British could and would come up with a nut and bolt system where 5/16” wasn’t 5/16.  But that would be close enough to fit on a bolt head, but not close enough to grip it.  Wearing the head off, or rounded enough to spoil many a weekend ride.  But thanks to American ingenuity, we now have the Mexican speed wrench, or the Crescent wrench, available in both metric and standard, but not Whitworth, but can still handle the job.  But for the tougher jobs, and the explanation of why some bolt heads look like they hate bite marks, we also have vice grips, which will effectively dig into whatever is left of the bolt head, and destroy it before removing.  Again metric and standard, no Whitworth...

But growing up in the Japanese bike age, we got to forego stripped bolts, but were handed the dreaded Phillips screw.  Which made hammers and impact drivers a toolbox necessity, hopefully before the inner cross point was worn into a circle.  Which gave rise to many fine tuning hammers for the proper repair, and one home mechanic pointing out how the cheapo screw driver in their tool kit fit the heads perfectly.  It seems a Japanese Whitworth crosspoint was needed, a #2 standard just didn’t fit, nor did a #1 or #3.  So it wasn’t just the English who got their jollies over rounded fasteners that couldn’t be removed.  Which made me wonder, why hasn’t anyone come up with an adjustable blade screwdriver, with just a twist of the wrist it would fit all screws?  Metric and standard, but not Whitworth.  And the idea could carry over to socket heads/allen bolts, and even Torx.  Come on America, Snap On where are you when we need you?  Craftsman, you were smart enough to dump Sears, don’t stop now....

But it took my friend Brett graduating with a degree in architecture and going to work in the oil fields to see the importance of an education.  He taught us “don’t force it, just get a bigger hammer,” and many problems were solved while creating another.  Also “don’t force it, get a bigger lever,” with the accompanying “just get a bigger breaker bar,” all in different sizes, the wrong tool for the right job, without any Whitworth restrictions.  Seems necessity is still the father of invention, not to be confused with Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention.

The right tool will always make the job easier, and provide a quicker fix without the benefit of all the cuss words associated with the damage done by the improper tool.  While some are still fixing the damage done during the repair, you could be riding.  It seems when mankind was faced with a problem, the problem of sin, God addressed it perfectly via his son Jesus Christ.  The gospel, maybe translated as simply as this.  If we had a medical problem, he would have sent a doctor.  A philosophical dilemma, a philosopher.  If we had a mechanical problem he would have sent a mechanic, and if a plumbing problem, a plumber.  But we had a sin problem that was robbing us from God’s glory, we needed a savior, for no other sacrifice would do.  So he sent his only son, Jesus Christ, the right tool for the repair for sin in our lives, the right fit, the only fit.  No need for adjustable religion, or a Whitworth version, the gospel was revealed to man via Jesus in a one size will fit the forgiveness of all sin.  No more skinned knuckles, extra classes or tools to purchase, no clubs to join, and no special tools.  No monthly payments of remedies bought on time, God made the gospel simple so we could get it, and free so we can afford it.  While some deal with issues in doctrinal differences, Jesus came to point out the fallacies of religion and point us to righteousness, to forgive us and give us a hope and a future.   To provide us with the oil of joy, the holy spirit, to guide, encourage, direct, and comfort.  Along with a workshop manual for life called the Bible.  For man will not fix his relationship with God alone, but out of the daily bread needed to feed us what we need.  Religion made easy, if only the Whitworth religious could get it...

But yet too many still approach Jesus like my friend who was working on his truck when I walked in.  Hearing his voice, I found him under his pickup, using the seven words you used to not be able to say on TV.  “Mike is that you?  Hand me a wrench.”  When I asked “what size,” his answer should have surprised me but didn’t.  “I don’t care, I’m gonna use it for a hammer...”  So I handed him a big one, just in case it was a big bolt.  Never thinking to ask if it was metric or standard....but somehow knowing it wasn’t Whitworth.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

pit passes

It was just a temporary fence, the kind of barrier put up to keep the crowds behind it, but what a difference what side of it you were on made.  As a race team sponsor for SCORE, I was used to just walking into pit areas and being welcomed, but at the short course race tonight in Las Vegas, as the crowds stood watching, hoping to get a glimpse of a racer, and maybe an autograph, here I sat, on the other side of the fence.  They had no idea who I was, but the fact I was inside and they weren’t must mean I was someone important.  Which caught me off guard for a while, as I knew I wasn’t, I was just a sponsor, one of the many who it takes to make up the races, and part of many teams.  It was the sponsorship that had gained me entrance, that got me the special pass, that allowed me to be behind the scenes.  From going up to the will call window and getting the special pass, to flashing it to the security guard to let me in, after turning away other lesser pass holders.  I had all the posters, stickers, autographs needed, but what hit me was what the pass meant.  I was special, that pass allowed me entrance, without it I was barred from entering.  And sitting there eating from the prerace catered meal, with many first class choices, it took a group of race fans eating hot dogs to put it all in perspective.  I was more of the hot dog person...and they would never know that without the price of sponsorship I was one of them, they would never know just  how much that sticker on the car really cost. And no way was I going to give it up.

Inside the fence I was somebody, outside just another race fan.  But at the Baja 1000 in 1995, when I brought a bunch of friends from the SONY plant in Mexico with me, it hit home.  I knew many of the racers, as most fans do.  But cruising up a side street in Tijuana to avoid the crowds, I ran into Ivan Stewart.  Who when he saw me, called out to me, and we walked together, introducing him to my friends who were in awe.  He was their hero and just seeing the race was a big deal, but meeting him and having their picture taken with him was beyond words.  But it was a quote from Mario their supervisor who put it all in perspective, “you said you knew him, I didn’t know he was your friend.”  Ivan knew me, that was impressive to them.  That day they had gained access to the other side of the fence, a day they will never forget.  And because I was Ivan’s friend, he was their friend too, with the pictures to prove it.  All because I was their friend. 

Some cults disguised as religions deny the deity of Jesus Christ.  They tell how he is a created angel, a created being, and not the son of God, or God as God claims he is.  They portray him as a created being, an angel, when he is much more and needs to be given his proper place.  In Hebrews we read God asking “to whom have ever said you are my son?”  “Or I will be his father and he will be my son?”  We forget that angels were created, but that Jesus was begotten, having the same nature, while things created take on a different nature.  Therefore the angels cannot have the same relationship with God as Jesus does, but because of Jesus we can.  No angel can save, they are servants, or messengers of the gospel.  Jesus is the gospel brought to life, God made in the image of a man, so we can be saved and forgiven.  Yet many give too much credence to angels, claiming guardian angels watching over them.  How many bikers have an angel bell?  But how many realize that Jesus has power of the angels, and can command them at any time?  Are we friends of the begotten one or friends of his creation?  Who do you worship, who do you call out to in times of trouble?  No angel ever died on the cross for us, only Jesus.  Angels cannot have the same relationship with God as can the son, but we can.  And it all comes down to who you say Jesus is.

As Christians we have been marked by God in a spiritual way, he identifies us as his.  Writes our name in the book of life, gives us the holy spirit, and sends us out to proclaim the gospel.  Yet like at the races, many only buy a ticket to the event, and never gain access to where the action is.  But in Christ, we gain entrance into heaven, with all wisdom of God available, no longer servants, but friends.  An eternal pass that doesn’t need renewing, but that does need upkeep, as any relationship does.  And by his spirit, we will be with him for everlasting.  Maybe the difference between heaven and hell is which side of the fence you are on, inside and safe, or outside wishing you were in.  Simply put, the gates of hell do not keep people out, they keep people in, they want to escape the terror and pain.  None of them have the pass that gets them into heaven, but God offers it to all who still are alive and breathing.  He wants to be your friend, will you be his?

Is a sticker on your car the only thing that identifies you as a Christian?  Does church attendance or membership mean to you that you are gong to heaven?  Or have you met Jesus, and been given a pit pass to heaven?  Racing passes get you into the pits, his pass saves you from the pit of hell.  Jesus paid for your pass, all you need to do is pick it up, will call is waiting.  When people meet you, can they say about you, “I knew you were a Christian, I didn’t know Jesus knew you?”  Jesus knows my name, and calls me friend.  Can you say the same?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com