Motorcyclists for the Messiah

OK, the name is really corny, but I didn't help come up with it! Tomorrow is motorcycle Sunday at our church, everybody with a bike is supposed to ride to church, eat afterwards, and then ride. Scott originally wasn't going to participate, because he didn't want to take part in something that was going to cause bad blood. We've got him ready to go, though. I'm ready. I decided I can't wear my "Harley Riders: The Kind of People Your Mother Warned You About" t-shirt. It has a really big hole at the belly button. I may wear my cousin's bike shop shirt, despite it being named Iron Horse, which I'm sure was named for the trashy magazine instead of the "iron" horse connotation. No matter what shirt I wear, I'll have my blue jean jacket on in the 100 degree heat. I'll soak it in water right before we eat and let it drip a while. Then, while it is still wet, but no longer dripping, I'll put it on and ride in air-conditioned comfort while all the newbie rough riders are miserable and sunburned in their sleeveless shirts. Maybe I'll "convert" someone at church tomorrow! I know we'll have several there who don't go to any church. Hopefully, they'll see we have fun even while trying to live as Christians. I'll say this for our current preacher; we weren't thrilled about his oratorical skills at first, but he'll say what others shy away from. Last week, his sermon included big rocks he handed out to the congregation as he was speaking. His point was, let's not throw stones at our visitors next week. Not bad.