“Excuse me? Did I hear right, or are my ears deceiving me again?” Elder Watson Cobb’s jowls shook when he talked. “You want us to pray and bless a bunch of motorcycles?”
“It’s more like you pray for the biker than the bike, but you know, you bless the bike to ask the Lord to protect the bikers on the road, that kind of thing.” I passed out brownies and napkins, careful not to make eye contact.
“Has anyone ever seen one done before?” My husband looked around the conference table where we sat in the fellowship hall and everyone shook their heads.
“Look.” I set the brownies down and took a seat beside Aaron. “It’s simply another way to bless a group of people who don’t normally come to church. We pray over the bikers, serve a lunch, maybe a band plays Christian music, and then we ride.”
“That sounds reasonable.” Aaron took a bite of brownie and wiped his fingers on his napkin.
“It’s ridiculous,” Elder Norman said. “Bernice will never go for it.”
“But it’s not Bernice’s decision.” I took a quick bite of my brownie.
“When would we do this?” Elder Pete studied his coffee cup, deep in thought.
“As soon as possible. On a Sunday after church,” I spoke with my hand over my mouth full of brownie.
“Where would we do it?” Norman tapped his fingers on the table. He didn’t touch his brownie. Not a good sign.
“In the parking lot,” I said. “We could easily take our sound equipment out there and—”
“Whoa, now, wait a minute. The Millers donated that sound equipment in memory of their father. I’m not sure they’ll like the idea of using it out of doors.” Deacon Wilcox looked across the table at Norman for support, and he got it.
“But they donated it to be used.” I struggled to keep my voice steady. “Surely they won’t mind when they learn it’s being used for outreach.”
Aaron shot me a look again and raised his eyebrows. I recognized his “know-your-place” look. I almost glared back at him but avoided his gaze instead.
“What about our insurance?” Norman looked at Pete Hansen, our church treasurer.
“We’re covered for any activity that takes place on church grounds.” Pete shot me a smile. I could usually count on his support.
“I don’t know.” Norman cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. “Seems dangerous to me. And noisy. The neighbors won’t like it.”
“It’ll be during the day, on Sunday at lunch time, not at night when they’re trying to sleep.” I hoped I didn’t sound sarcastic.
“Well, I know Bernice isn’t going to like it, and if Bernice doesn’t like it, you know half the church won’t like it.” Norman looked at all the board and gave a slow nod.
I leaned over to whisper in Aaron’s ear. “But one person shouldn’t be allowed to be the majority.”
“What’s the purpose of this anyway?” Pete asked.
“It’s an outreach,” Aaron finally spoke up. “A way to pray for protection for people who ride motorcycles and to show them the love of Christ.”
Elder Pete nodded.
“What’s it going to cost us?” Deacon Wilcox looked at Aaron with deep furrows at the top of his nose.
“Not much, really. Everyone can bring a dish to share. Kirstie said there’s a really good band in Indy who would be glad to come on an honorarium basis, and she knows some Christian bikers willing to pitch in and help pay that.” Aaron doodled on his notepad. He only drew wheel rims when nervous or anxious. He drew three of them.
“What if those hellions tear up the parking lot?” Norman was, if nothing else, tenacious.
“What makes you think they’ll do that?” Aaron asked.
“They’re bikers. Haven’t you ever watched that movie Hell’s Angels? They’ll be burning rubber all over the place, tearing up our flower beds and lawn, breaking windows, scratching up vehicles, and who knows what all else.”
I rolled my eyes, sat back in my chair with my arms folded across my chest. Unbelievable. But predictable.
“I think Hell’s Angels are in California.” Aaron chuckled. “That’s a long way from Indiana.”
“Well, actually, Aaron.” I leaned my elbows on the table and whispered out of the side of my hand. “They’re international now.”
Norman slapped his hand on the table. “See? I told you. International. I think Indiana’s in there somewhere.” His lips quivered. It took little to upset him.
“Elder Norman, with all due respect, I don’t think the Hell’s Angels will bother coming to our church. For one thing, we won’t be serving alcohol. And besides, if the Hell’s Angels want to come, they’re welcome. They’re God’s children, too.” Aaron kept his voice steady and kind.
Elder Pete and Deacon West nodded.
“It’s an unreached people group,” I said. “Think of this as a missions project. And as Aaron said, I doubt many people will come. It’ll probably be just us bikers who are members of the church.”
“Who rides a motorcycle and attends our church?” Norman’s hand shook as he took a sip of his coffee.
“Opal?” All the men said her name at once.
“Since when does Opal ride a motorcycle?” Deacon Wilcox chuckled. His slightly rounded belly jiggled the brass buttons on his jean jacket.
“Since a few weeks ago when she bought one. She took the motorcycle class with me.”
All the men laughed, and even Norman gave in to a timid snicker. “Bernice isn’t going to like it.” Norman’s snicker mellowed to a heavy sigh.
“Well, I gotta see this.” Elder Pete wiped his hands on his pants. “I think it’s worth having a bike blessing just to see Opal ride.”
Norman moaned and scratched the back of his head. “Bernice is going to say it’s unladylike and inappropriate for the pastor’s wife to be riding around on a motorcycle like a Hell’s Angel.”
“Well, I’m all for the blessing. This I gotta see.” Deacon Perry flashed a sidewise grin.
“I agree.” Deacon West reached for two more brownies. “They’ll be talking about this for years.”
“OK. Kirstie, pick a date.” Aaron handed me the church calendar. “Eel Falls is going to host its first ever bike blessing.”
True to Norman’s word, Bernice had a fit when she learned the results of the monthly church board meeting. Those flowerbeds were her pride and joy, and she wasn’t about to let a bunch of rowdy bikers ruin them. She came to the church early the next day and marched into the sanctuary where Aaron balanced precariously on a rickety ladder changing light bulbs. Bernice wasted no time in her dramatic assault. I could hear every word from where I worked in the church office because the door opened into the sanctuary.
“I won’t stand for it, Pastor. It’s unladylike and inappropriate for your wife to be riding around like a rebel teenager. If she’s having a midlife crisis, take her to a counselor. Rule your household, Reverend. Rule your household or you won’t be able to shepherd this church.”
In his usual calm, delayed manner, Aaron climbed slowly down the ladder.
“How are you Miss Bernice? It’s lovely to see you this morning. Is there something I can help you with?”
“You know good and well there’s something you can help me with.” I peeked out the door in time to see Bernice shake her finger in Aaron’s face. “I cannot allow this biker catastrophe to happen. I just won’t stand for it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Bernice. I wish you’d reconsider.”
Aaron folded the ladder. “Well, that’s a shame. That’s a real shame, because I wanted to ask you to be in charge of—well—never mind.”
“What? In charge of what? Go on. What is it?”
“I looked forward to you being in charge of organizing the food and refreshments for the event.”
Bernice sighed deeply and glared. I’d heard Bernice tell people before that she was the only one in the church who knew how to get things done.
Aaron moved the ladder to the next chandelier, climbed to the top, and continued screwing in light bulbs.
“We have no idea how many will be here, and Kirstie and I aren’t sure what type of food we should serve that would make for good leftovers and…”
“Well, that’s true.” Bernice sniffed. “Kirstie’s gift isn’t in the kitchen. We both know that.”
I wanted to march in and give Bernice something else to talk about, but I held back.
Aaron didn’t say anything. With one quiet motion, he moved the ladder to the next chandelier and started changing lights again. “What do you suggest Bernice?”
“For food. What should we serve?”
I chuckled and watched as Aaron hooked and reeled in Bernice. She talked about how serving egg salad wouldn’t be appropriate because it would spoil, but on the other hand, a fruit salad could keep for quite a while, and a person could always re-heat hot dogs and eat them later, but serving sandwiches would mean the bread would dry out.
“I’m so glad we can depend on you, Bernice.” Aaron flashed her a smile. “Your help will be invaluable.”
“I live to serve, Pastor. You know that.” Bernice turned and hollered toward the office door. “Kirstie, tell Opal I’ll need a sign-up sheet for Sunday. I’ll call with the details in a few hours.”
“OK, Bernice. Opal should be here then. She stepped out to get supplies.” I choked back a giggle. When my husband shifted into pastor gear, he never failed to impress me. He had a patient way with people I hadn’t mastered.
“At least they’ll get a good meal.” Bernice sniffed and began to walk toward the door. “Never let it be said that this church doesn’t know how to take care of folks. You hear me, Pastor Donovan? If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right.”
Aaron climbed down the ladder and winked at me.
I smiled back.
“Yup. We’re gonna do it right. I can’t have my name associated with something done willy-nilly. People will be talking about this for years.” Bernice’s voice trailed off as she walked through the foyer doors and out to the parking lot.
Aaron walked into the office and began to tickle me. “You better get busy, Mrs. Donovan. We have some hungry bikers to feed.”
“Aaron, stop tickling me!”
He grabbed me in a big bear hug. “OK.” He buried his nose in my hair. “Please, God, please don’t let anything go wrong at this event.”
“It’ll be fine.” I looked up at him. “Really. Don’t worry.”
“I sure hope we don’t live to regret this, Kirstie.”
I walked to the desk and sat down at the computer to email Opal about Bernice’s sign-up sheet. “It’ll be fine. If it doesn’t go well, we can always live in the van.”