Assignment 3

THE HIGHWAY TO HEAVEN
MEGAN E. STUTTLE
September 29, 2009

TONAWANDA, NY— It is a Monday night at the Tonawanda Free Methodist Church.
On this particular Monday night, it is raining. So, instead of the usual Monday night scene of people congregating in the parking lot with their Harleys, Hondas, Yamahas, and other varieties of motorcycles lining the church lot, a more standard scene appears as people file into the church from their cars to congregate inside away from the rain. Once inside, however, it is clear by the array of denim and do-rags as to where you are.

Inside the church, there is a set of ten rows of pews on each side of the middle aisle. Stained glass windows in vibrant colors line the side walls. At the front of the church lies a small stage, set up with drums, pianos, and microphone stands where the Pastor stands, in jeans and a t-shirt, preparing to give his sermon.

“Bert got a new bike this week!” announces Pastor Tony Fischer before beginning his sermon, which is immediately followed by cheers and applause from the forty three attendees in the pews, mostly motorcycle owners and riders.

The usual crowd of this Monday night gathering consists of anywhere up to one hundred nineteen attendees. Pastor Don Mohr, the lead pastor of TFMC, estimates that the ratio of people is about fifty, fifty when it comes to motorcycle riders to non-riders. Among this ratio is the regular Sunday crowd that likes to come Mondays as well, bikers from other churches, and people who use this Monday night ritual as the only church ceremony they attend.

These people also untraditionally come from all different backgrounds and religions. “You have Catholics next to Protestants... next to Jehovah Witnesses…” stated Pastor Tony, a converted Roman Catholic, explaining the reason for the basic sermon that does not go in depth about being a Christian. “You don’t have to worry about offending anybody,” explains Pastor Don, in accordance with Pastor Tony’s clarification of the Monday night church. Biker Church was born five years ago when Pastor Tony approached Pastor Don with the idea, and has been running every Monday since, without cancellation.

On the right forearm of Pastor Tony lie three crosses and the words, “Praise His Name,” a tattoo that bonded him and Pastor Don together. This tattoo led to the conversation of a common interest: motorcycles. Both men own Harley Davidson motorcycles and came up with the idea to make Monday night church a Biker Church, a place where these men and women with the common interest of motorcycles can come together to worship.

Not many people attended Monday night church so they decided to give it a try as they didn’t have much to lose. Some changes had to be made to adapt to everybody’s needs, though. The ceremony is short, consisting of about fifteen minutes of contemporary Christian music led by Pastor Don and a fifteen minute sermon by Pastor Tony, which he writes himself. Those are not the only differences, though.

“We don’t send around an offering plate,” both men verified. It is sitting out on a table for those who wish to make a donation, but it is never passed around. Communion is also offered only one Monday of every month, including this one. Communion is not done until the end of the ceremony, though, and is done in a manner where “you do not have to be a member of [the] church, all you have to do is love Jesus,” says Pastor Tony before handing out the bread and cups that represent the body and blood of Christ. Everybody then takes their bread and cups back to their seats to have communion altogether “as a family” rather than individually, as practiced in most church ceremonies.

The ceremony begins at seven o’ clock sharp with Pastor Tony asking everybody to take their seats but to remain standing, followed by three songs by the band. The band consists of three guitarists, one bass player, one keyboard player, and a drummer. Pastor Tony takes one of the guitars and begins as the lead singer to “I Could Sing of Your Love Forever.” The crowd follows suit, swaying, clapping, and singing along to the lyrics that are posted on a projection screen to the left of the stage. The crowd then begins to sing along to a blues version of “I Believe My Redeemer Lives” and then to “Humble Thyself,” all Christian songs with a more upbeat and contemporary swing. Pastor Don then leads everybody in a short prayer before everybody is seated and the sermon begins, led by Pastor Tony.

Pastor Tony declares that he always sends a strong message through the words of his sermons, but always focuses on salvation, a topic that many of the Biker Church-goers can relate to. This concept of salvation through the love of Jesus is one that brings the variety of people who attend every Monday together, along with the stories that they have to share about devastation they have encountered, or have come close to encountering in their lives.

Dennis Carraway and Victor Wood are two such members of Biker Church who have encountered the devotion that they all carry for each other through near tragedies. Both men were involved in motorcycle accidents and have survived to tell their stories of the love and support they received from the church. In July 2007, Wood went into a ditch with his bike. He was visited by members of the church throughout his stay in the hospital, all concerned for his well-being and keeping him in their prayers.

Carraway attended Biker Church the second week it was offered and has been going every week since. He was the proud owner of a Yamaha until a terrible accident had him flown to Erie County Medical Center. “I almost died that night,” stated Carraway, reminiscing about how not a day went by where he had not been visited by or received a call from either Pastor Don or Pastor Tony. And, although he has stopped riding motorcycles, he is still alive, “by the grace of God and all my friends,” he pronounces.

Alfonso Cutaia, a professor of motorcycle safety courses at Niagara Community College, has also found salvation through Biker Church. After encountering some health problems that resulted in being revived by use of a defibrillator, he had an epiphany. “I didn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel,” says Cutaia, a realization that brought him back to church and to put God back into his life.

Cutaia grew up Roman Catholic, but decided that it was very narrow minded and “grew out of it”, bringing him and his two young sons, who also love riding motorcycles with their father, to Biker Church. The Pastor makes it enjoyable and keeps him coming back every week. “He preaches, but can also be your best friend”, Cutaia explains. It is a different kind of union for these men and women who attend Biker Church. When conventional churches have judged them by their looks, making them feel intimidating or as if they don’t fit in, Biker Church has given them sanctuary. Conventional church is not the only place this group finds judgment, though.

After the sermon has ended and communion is taken, the members of Biker Church head out to congregate for what is known as Fellowship Time. Fellowship Time can be held anywhere from a biker bar (where nobody drinks) to an ice cream parlor. This Monday night’s congregation was held at Hoover’s, a burger and ice cream establishment across town.

“You’re always going to get the people that don’t like bikers,” explains Pastor Tony about how poorly they are received at many of these restaurants they attend after church. Once people are able to see behind the leather and tattoos, however, they are able to recognize them for who they really are. “We’re not a club, we’re not a gang, we are a church,” Pastor Tony clarifies.

When faced with a situation where they are not kindly greeted, the atmosphere is drastically changed once they gather to pray before their meals. “We use the motorcycles as a tool to reach other people.” Pastor Tony goes on to describe how once people notice that they are not stereotypical bikers and are not harmful, they become interested in their cause. Such an example occurs at Hoover’s, regardless of the lack of motorcycles. A small family in the corner of the restaurant approaches Pastor Tony regarding the Biker Church t-shirts donned by several members of the church that evoked some curiosity, rather than intimidation, to these onlookers.

“We’re like a fraternity,” asserts Dave Eiss about the relationship he shares with the other members of Biker Church, he stops, then elaborates, “we’re stronger than brothers and sisters.”