A Church, A Wheelie, And A Blessing

[from today's Washington Post]

A Church, a Wheelie and a Blessing
In the Name of Safe Travel, Pastor Provides Religious Ceremony Fit for Motorcyclists

By Stephen A. Crockett Jr.
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, May 22, 2006; Page B02

The Rev. Timothy L. Seay is dressed in a black "Victory Vegas" T-shirt and blue jeans, a rag hanging out of his back pocket. He's perched atop a motorcycle, crouched low and revving the throttle hard.

In one swift motion, he bounces his leg and yanks hard on the bike. The front wheel barely leaves the ground. He's trying his hardest to pop a wheelie. He isn't pulling hard enough or isn't bouncing his legs properly, but he isn't giving up. Finally he completes the stunt, getting the bike up on its back wheel. The crowd bursts into applause as gospel music plays in the background in the Hyattsville church parking lot.

This isn't his bike. His is the chrome-and-black bike next to the sign that reads, "Reserved Parking for Pastor." The one he was riding is a wheelie simulator, chained to a truck bed so that he couldn't fall even if he tried.

Seay wouldn't dare attempt that trick on his own bike. He knows the dangers that can befall motorcyclists, which is why he opened his Emmanuel Covenant Church yesterday afternoon for a "biker blessing."
About 100 bikers lined up their machines in the parking lot, the American-made Harley cruisers next to the ultra-fast Japanese models. Standing on a makeshift stage, Seay led them in a prayer for safe travel.

This was the first motorcycle blessing Seay has held in his 17 years as pastor, although not the first such event in the D.C. area. The blessings, which are becoming more common here and around the country, are believed to have started in the late 1970s to give riders more positive energy before hitting the road.

But isn't a religious ceremony the last place you would expect to find leather-clad warriors who live by the lyrics of "Born to Be Wild?"

"The interesting thing is that bike culture is more diverse than it used to be," Seay said. "I read somewhere that second to golf it is the fastest-growing sport . . . Right now, you would have a hard time walking into a church that doesn't have a rider in its congregation."

The blessing wasn't just a time to talk about the dangers of riding. It was also an afternoon of food, raffle prizes and camaraderie.

"It's a great event, and it gets away from the stereotype that bikers are rebels and bad guys," said Ezelle Wooden, 41, who attended the blessing with his two sons, Cyrus 14, and Fredrick, 9. Wooden is part of a biker group called Top Gun Riders in Greenbelt. They formed last month, and so far the group consists of seven women and Wooden.

"I have been to blessings before, but this is the first one that I have been to that has been sponsored by a church," he said.
But some wonder if the power of prayer is any match for the hobby's many hazards.

"It isn't enough just to bless the motorcycles. You'd better bless the motorcyclists. In fact, they not only need to be blessed, they need to be double-blessed because it is dangerous," said John Townsend, 55, spokesman for AAA Mid-Atlantic. "Look at it this way. In 2004 across the nation you had 4,008 motorcyclists killed and 76,000 injured," he said, spouting off numbers from a National Highway Traffic Safety Administration report.

Yet Townsend himself still dreams about owning a big chrome Harley. "If I wasn't paying tuition, I would be out there on a Harley right now," he said.

A few years ago, Townsend even went so far as to get his motorcycle license. But he never got a bike. "I let my friends talk me out of it. They told me I would be committing suicide. To ride a bike requires both hands and both feet and all your motor skills that get slower with age," he said. "But until I am 65, it will still be an active dream."

Seay understands this. He opens the blessing with a story: On May 5, he and about 16 other riders met in Annapolis for a day trip to a ski resort in Western Maryland. A couple of hours into the four-hour trip, one of the riders crossed three lanes, hit a guardrail and died.

"When I first started riding, I didn't want to hear these stories," Seay tells the crowd. "But I understand that these things happen, and the way to deal with it is to put God in it."
All of the bikers lock hands and bow their heads as Seay wishes them a safe season.

"Every time I get on my bike I pray," he says. "I enjoy it and I know the dangers, but I have a lot to live for: my wife, my two kids and a great church. It is a fun thing to do and an exhilarating thing to do, but it also one of those things where you would like to have God's blessing with you."