MEMBER ARTICLE
08⎪JUNE 2020⎪shop.cmausa.org
By STEPHEN and LARRY Nemerofsky
THE
apple doesn’t fall far
from the tree. Colloquial
wisdom knew and my college childpsychology
textbooks confirmed
that as a first-born son of a car
guy, I never stood a chance. I was
resigned to want to do as dad did. I
was about ten when he made the
logical jump to motorcycles, and I
dutifully dove headfirst into the
world of two wheels. Every book
and magazine I could get my hands
on was read cover to cover. Street
riding strategies, influential models,
and the latest industry buzz filled
my brain. His third hand 1985
Shadow 700 was as cool to me as
any custom chopper. Riding on the
back was exhilarating and solidified
that I needed motorcycles in my life
forever.
Dad progressed to bigger and
newer bikes as skill, budget, and
Mom would allow, and we kept
going to motorcycle shows and
events. I helped him work on his
Hondas, Yamahas, and Suzukis and
would hop on the back when I
could. When I was finally old
enough and got my motorcycle
license, graduation money immediately
burned a hole in my pocket
and I became the proud second
owner of a nearly mint 1980 CB
750C. Learning how my bike
worked required a lot of "consulting
the manual.” Dad made time to
help me maintain, tinker, and even
add some performance parts to my
bike. Riding together was better
than ever, each with our own bikes.
Our relationship strengthened all
those years through the language
of motorcycles. I am forever grateful
to my dad for sharing the gift of
riding with me.
To draw a parallel, the apple did
not even need to fall from the tree.
Worldly evidence exemplified, and
the Bible confirmed, that as a
descendant of Adam, I was resigned
to want to sin as Adam did. I was
about eight years old when I made
the decision to accept Christ as my
Savior, and I dutifully paid attention
in my Sunday school classes.
However, here is where the parallel
falls apart. As I got older, I did not
dive into pursuing sanctification, I
did not read my Bible cover to
cover, and Jesus was often left
competing for space in my brain.
Attending church became less cool
than literally anything else on a
Sunday, and I wasn’t always certain
that I needed Jesus in my life forever.
Luckily, my heavenly Father
knew what He was doing, and gave
me an earthly father who did not
waiver in his walk of faith. My dad
did not just help with motorcycles,
but with all of life. When my life
wasn’t working right, he would
"consult the manual" by pulling out
the Bible and helping me make
sense of the systems God designed
and how I was supposed to live
through them. I am forever grateful
to my dad for sharing the gift of a
relationship with Jesus, and loving
me enough to teach and guide me
through experiences that shaped
my life and made me who I am
today.
Today, we get to continue to
share our love of motorcycles, and
Jesus, through CMA as chapter
chaplains. We may be the only
father/son chaplains in CMA! CMA
has given us the opportunity to
take our faith on the road and meet
people who have not yet had a
chance to "consult the manual.”
Praying for others and sharing with
them the Father’s love and gift of
salvation gives extra purpose to
every ride and rest stop. Even
though I now live in Texas and
switched to a Harley (sorry Dad),
we connect just as strongly as ever
and are thankful for family, Christ’s
love, and CMA. CMA
MY
Father’s ‘apple’ fell
close, but rolled away
from the tree. I was raised in a
Jewish home where my Mother
kept Kosher and as my parent’s
only son I was Bar Mitvah’d at
age 13. But even with all of the
trappings of religion, there was
no evidence, or even mention of
God. We did what we did
“because that’s what Jews do,”
my Mother would say. When I had
a question about being Jewish, I
was told to ask the Rabbi, not
search in Scriptures and ask God.
A Bible sat dusty and unused on
the shelf. I was in my teens when
I thought about finding God, but
knew I wouldn’t be finding any
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