Friday 9/28/07

Good morning, fellow Americans. Here's this week's version of the regular rant. Enjoy!
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Yes, I own two Harley-Davidson motorcycles. Laura owns one. Last weekend, Laura and I did roll the Harleys out of the garage, start them up, and go for a ride.

First, we went to Mass, and then to Laura's choir practice. Then, on the nice cool, calm "day off" that remained of our Sunday, off we went.

Traffic was light. Drunks were unlikely. The Nabbies were home watching football.

We rode a few miles north on old Highway 85, then stopped for lunch. The restaurant we chose had few patrons inside, and it was quiet. The food was tasty and hot. We took our time.

Eventually, we rode back home, put the newly washed black beauties back in their garage, and went inside and took a nap.

Much of the time when I'm riding, I find myself full of glee. And mirth. And sheer enjoyment. I've always had that feeling, ever since Dad put me on my first bicycle when I was five.

The bike eventually led to the motorcycle, and the ecstasy came along with it. Laura became my riding partner and eventually my wife. The biker culture came with the Harleys, and the leather store came from that.

We have a motorcycling intimacy, Laura and I, that goes back nearly 25 years. At first, we both rode one motorcycle, and that in itself can bring a couple close. (It's hard to be ''mad'' at someone who is holding on around my waist.) {I kept forgetting why I was "mad" at him, too! leh}

Eventually, it just made sense for Laura to begin riding her own machine. As an accomplished horsewoman, she took to the motorbike instantly. She is an expert rider.

We were rusty last Sunday, but when we are in the habit of riding frequently, we are quite good at it, as a team. With practice, we ride as if we are of one mind, synchronized. It's quite beautiful to watch: it's even more fun to be one of the team members.

Riding with Laura is one of the great joys of my life. I get a little thrill just thinking about it.

Once upon a time, we thought the biker world held great possibilities for us. Community. Spirituality. Inclusion. Friendship. Camaraderie.

Don't get me wrong; we have many, many good friends in the biker world. We hope we always will.

But we were not then and never will be members of the Church of Harley-Davidson.

We found ''believers'' among the cult -- believers in the spiritual qualities of a machine. They were Harley Owners Group people, Hells Angels, Sons of Silence, various "Christian Biker" organizations. But me, as you may have guessed, I was skeptical. It was all too close to the Latin saying, "Deus ex machina," or "God from the Machine."

That's why, no matter how hard we tried, we just didn't belong. HOG people looked askance at us. I could never buy the concept of "Riding for the Son."

Sorry. Nobody "rides" for Jesus. What we do for Jesus is support the church, visit the sick, minister to the incarcerated, assist the homebound. We ride for our own enjoyment, and "Riding for the Son" is a thinly veiled rationalization. Once again, we didn't fit in.

Where do we fit in?

St. Peter's Roman Catholic Parish, right here in Greeley. In a much larger way, we fit nicely among the millions of Catholics worldwide.

Does our motorcycling avocation separate us from the church or any of its members? Not so far as we can tell -- basically, my Catholic friends support me one hundred percent in whatever I do. They are amazingly accepting and supportive.

Day after day, we find: Community. Spirituality. Inclusion. Friendship. Camaraderie. And Love. Most importantly, love.

Why did it take us so long? Why were we married 16 years before we "found" the church?

This short reading from Scripture may help explain.
St. Paul's epistle to the Ephesians says, in part:

"Wives should be subordinate to their husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is head of his wife just as Christ is head of the church, he himself the savior of the body.

"As the church is subordinate to Christ, so wives should be subordinate to their husbands in everything.

"Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ loved the church and handed himself over for her to sanctify her, cleansing her by the bath of water with the word, that he might present to himself the church in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.

''So (also) husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself."

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One day, with some extraterrestrial help, I figured out that Laura was being subordinate to me. She had followed my lead into the biker culture. She does treat me the way St. Paul instructs wives to do.

Where was I? I wasn't doing my job. I was always saying, "Sure Laura. You go ahead and go to church. Knock yourself out. I won't mind."

Leadership in marriage, especially spiritual leadership, is up to the husband. It says so right there in the Bible. We were the tail wagging the dog. Laura, being the natural woman she is, was being subordinate. But to what?

I did have an epiphany right at the turn of the century. One day I'll figure out just how to describe it. As a result of that divine intervention, I began to see. Following the direction of the Holy Spirit, I led us to St. Peter and through the arduous process of becoming Catholic. We are both extremely thankful.

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Next time you're in the market to buy a new house, look out for this misused Realtor Word: "Cul-de-sac." The salesman will say a cul-de-sac is a good thing. The dictionary says it differently:

A passage with only one outlet; blind alley; hence, a situation from which there is no escape.

On our street, mostly people keep right on going. Live in a cul-de-sac? Roar in, back out. Roar in, screech out in a backwards U-turn. Roar in, throw out trash, screech out in reverse. Cul-de-sac is definitely not a good thing. Any experiences to relate?

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Word of the week: Implore. From the Latin, "Implorare, to beseech or entreat. To ask or beg earnestly, to entreat." Sure are a lot of words in English that come from the Latin, somehow. Wonder how that works.

Next week's word: Serendipity.

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Gripes? Complaints? Whines? or Comments? Adoration? Puppy love? Feel free to express yourself in the comments below!