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THE BEAT OF YOUR OWN ENGINE
Regardless of her looks, accent, or stature, BB was admitted into that unique group that travels to the beat of its own engine. She had every reason to keep her voice as small as she was, but she chose to be a loud, formidable presence. BB was a woman whose faith made noise. BB was a bold woman.

The stories of women like BB keep me on the road. These role models sustain me when I encounter people who believe faith is a private thing we shouldn’t discuss publicly. They encourage me to travel to the beat of my own engine and to find my own sound.

I was ostensibly different as a child and often felt like an outsider. When I began riding, I wondered if I would find the motorcycling culture to be as troublesome as the groups in high school. Having come to terms with being “different,” I didn’t want to again worry about jumping through the hoops of acceptance.

As I met other riders, I realized they were often okay with whomever you decided to be. For many, you don’t have to ride a certain kind of motorcycle to fit in. You don’t have to wear a certain kind of clothes or talk a certain way. You just have to enjoy riding. Many of the people I’ve met along the way want to openly discuss their spirituality and faith, especially as it relates to motorcycling.

The sound of my faith is round and full and as loud as the wind. Maybe it’s too loud sometimes — but I don’t apologize. I don’t muffle this sound. I have listened to and released my sound, and I encourage you to do the same.

Karris lives in Waterloo, Iowa, with her husband and daughter. She is a professional writer and speaker and has ridden motorcycles for more than 10 years.

Faith Reflections by the Rev. Joy McDonald Coltvet

Recently, I was sitting on the main floor of a large auditorium. A choir sang “O Day Full of Grace” behind me from the balcony. The seventy voices began softly together. Their sound grew and expanded — a powerful song that sent shivers down my spine. Their many voices were like one voice, whether they were singing in unison or in harmony. I could not see the choir but it felt like they were singing together as a single instrument, not just a bunch of individuals, but one.

Like the distinctive flavor of the sweet wine of communion, like the cool feel of water in the shape of a cross on my forehead, this sound of many voices blended in praise is refreshing, cleansing, filled with joy. Perhaps this is the truest sound of my faith — a sound that I cannot make on my own but only together with the others who make, together with me, what we call the Body of Christ.

For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy.
Luke 1:44

Elizabeth hears Mary calling out to her in this passage from Luke. At the sound of her voice, the long-awaited child that she carries jumps in her womb. She is filled with the Holy Spirit and cries out words of joy and blessing. In response, Mary begins to sing with her. Their words echo throughout the generations expressing faith in a God who keeps promises, who transforms the world. We sing their song, repeating it again and again.

As we sing with Elizabeth and Mary, and take to heart the transforming vision they sing into being, we begin to move together. We become a movement together, welcoming the reign of God into our midst.

What gets in the way of adding your voice to the song of transformation that Elizabeth and Mary have already begun? What moves you to voice your faith? to move your feet?

The Rev. Joy McDonald Coltvet is director of vocation and recruitment at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago.