Friday, Oct. 22, 1999 | 11:09 a.m.
The story of Christ, outlaw biker version:
Jesus, friend of the vigorously tattooed, rides a Harley.
The government doesn't like him. The church thinks he's bad.
He doesn't like "the goody-two-shoes Pharisees."
He is persecuted.
"Jesus hung out with people like you and me. He would have ridden a motorcycle," says a tract distributed by the Christian Motorcycle Association at biker ride-ins around the state.
Roaring tail pipes and leather halter tops make a somewhat different backdrop than pipe organs and choir robes -- but the Christian Motorcycle Association is built on the idea that bikers are primed for the preaching.
The Arkansas-based organization has spent 25 years working its way into closed-mouth biker communities in order to spread the Christian faith. Armed with literature tailored for their target community -- "Objects in mirror are closer than they appear," says another tract that shows a picture of a crucifix in the rear view mirror -- the group is a forerunner in niche evangelism, a growing strategy among Christians fighting the image of monotone church life.
And the Christian Motorcycle Association is growing in Southern Nevada, which is a Mecca for motorcyclists of all types because of the comfortable weather and an abundance of wide-open highways. Two association chapters already exist here, and there is rumbling about starting a third. This weekend, more than 200 bikers are expected to turn out for a Christian Motorcycle Association rally at the KOA Campground on Boulder Highway.
"Bikers can't go to a church and talk to a guy in a suit and tie who stands behind a pulpit," said C.W. Van Hagen, president of One Way Riders, a local association chapter.
"I sometimes go church-hopping myself. I've shown up at churches on my Harley and by the time I get to the front door people are heading for the back exits. Then at some churches, they treat you really nice, but it's like you're a side show. You're a novelty to them. "It takes an understanding of (biker) culture to talk to bikers," said Van Hagen, a former "outlaw" biker.
"There is a protocol in the outlaw clubs. You have to say things a certain way. You don't go in there beating them over the head with a Bible -- in fact, I've seen people walk away from events with their Bible stuffed up their ass because they did it wrong. Seriously, you can get hurt.
"But I'll go talk to them if God leads me there. Not too long ago I was at a club event at a bar, and one of the brothers was standing there with his old woman, drinking a beer, and he mumbled something about 'Oh Jesus.' So I said, 'Do you know Jesus?'
"We started talking about it, real easy, and he said he would believe in Jesus, but he didn't think he was able to stop drinking and smoking joints and all that.
"I said, 'You want to meet Jesus right now? Bring the beer and the joint with you, because the Lord says 'Come as you are,' " Van Hagen said.
The Christian Motorcycle Association's 60,0000 members nationwide deliver a non-denominational message, and once they are committed, they do not drink or do drugs, said Nita Wiggins, who has ridden with the organization since 1991.
"None of us are Bible thumpers, we just show them love, and let them see us having a good time without drugs and alcohol," she said.
Wiggins and her husband Cactus -- now sporting patches on their backs that read, "Riding for the Son" -- had been riding on the fringe of clubs like Hells Angels and the Banditos for decades before discovering the Christian Motorcycle Association at an Easter ride-in.
"We had thought about going to a sunrise Easter service at a church, but I said to Cactus, 'I'd a whole lot rather be with a bunch of bikers than a bunch of church-goers, wouldn't you?"
Biker roots
Van Hagen, 42, used to ride for a New York outlaw club called Satan's Soldiers.
"The devil was just leading me all over the place," said Van Hagen, who still has his long hair and beard, tattoos and a Harley. "I was fighting in club wars, and I was a speed freak -- doing a lot of methamphetamine -- and I was unpredictable."
"If you would have told me then that I'd be doing this now, I would have told you to get out of my face and take your weird friends with you," he said.
When turf wars between bike clubs in New York drew the attention of the law, Van Hagen fled to the Army. One night in the barracks, frustrated with his life, he sat on the floor and cried. "I wept like a baby, and I cried out to the Lord, and He was there. I turned my life over to Christ.
After leaving the Army, he began to regret the time he had lost in outlaw clubs.
"I started going through the trials of being a new Christian -- I started asking, 'Why did I have to be a dirty outlaw? Why was I doing speed and getting into fights?' " Van Hagen said.
"I asked God, 'Why did I have to go through all that?'
"And then the answer came to me: 'What kind of witness would you be for God now if you hadn't gone through all that?' "
"I know God has a sense of humor because after struggling to get out of that biker lifestyle, now I'm right back in it, only now I'm riding for the Lord," Van Hagen said.
Biker chaplains
As Van Hagen describes it, the biker clubs co-exist with the biker missionaries as if the Christian Motorcycle Association was the regiment of chaplains in a rough-and-tumble micro-society.
"A president of one of the outlaw clubs here in town called me up not too long ago, and he was crying," Van Hagen said.
"I couldn't believe it. But his dad was dying in the hospital, and he wanted me to pray for his dad. I almost fell out of my chair, but I stopped right there and prayed with him. Then me and (another CMA member) met him and two of his riders down at the hospital and the five of us went in to see his dad."
Women in biker clubs are often the most difficult to reach with a religious message, Wiggins said.
"In some hardcore clubs the women are in bondage and not permitted to speak. A lot of times at our bigger rallies us girls have to do our witnessing in restrooms," said Wiggins.
"They'll read the tract while they're in the restroom, and sometimes they'll talk to us about it before they go back outside."
The tracts are written with the alienated in mind: "Let me tell you, brother and sister, Jesus Christ isn't concerned about whether we ride a scooter or have a beard or long hair! He is concerned about us accepting Him into our hearts as our Savior."
"Our hope is that they will get out of bondage," said Wiggins. "We just want to let them know that we're here if they want to get out.
"Many of them are just terrified. I'm just hoping that they'll see us and build confidence in us. We're basically there to heal the hurt," said Wiggins.
In addition to attending motorcycle events, the association also does prison ministries and fund-raisers for foreign missions.
The Christian Motorcycle Association's Las Vegas rally begins tonight, lasts through Sunday night, and is open to everyone. There will be Christian worship services daily. The KOA campground is located at 4315 Boulder Highway.
archive
