Bibles for bikers

Biker Church services certainly aren't conventional. In October, one of them took place in a barn in the middle of a cow pasture an hour outside of Cologne, Germany. Dozens and dozens of motorbikes were parked in the muddy field outside; instead of getting a Bible pressed in their hands when they arrived, congregants were given a block of wood to put under their kickstands.

Inside the barn, the congregation sat on split logs instead of pews. A local gospel choir sang, a special prayer for bikers was read ("Lord if I hear that ambulance siren...") and a visiting pastor gave a sermon the subject of which was: "Who is navigating your way through life?"

Different journeys

50-year-old Klaus Eisenmann usually attends his local town church, but once a month he and his wife hop on their motorcycles and drive an hour or so through the countryside to the cattle barn.

He comes because he likes the music, and the fact that the sermon is "different than in a normal church. It's very direct, and not couched in pretty phrases." Bikers are "an unusual species," Eisenmann said: "They're not like other people. If you want to reach them, then you have to do something special."

He's a member of a biker scene that exists parallel to the infamous Hell's Angels and Bandidos biker gangs that have hit the headlines in recent weeks.

Violence between rival gangs has led to police investigations, raids on headquarters, and calls to outlaw the groups. Newspapers have had a field day writing about the gangs' purported mafia ties, drug-smuggling and people-trafficking.

With their logo-covered jackets, black leather clothing and loud machines, Germany's bikers have cultivated a dangerous image to go with their dangerous lifestyle.

While Klaus Eisenmann and his fellow congregants at the service in October have some things in common with their infamous brethren - namely, a deep love of motorcycles and a tendency to push life to its outermost limits - their journey has led them in an entirely different direction.

Familiarity with death and danger

Biker church services in Germany are a widespread phenomenon, and one that is growing, according to Juergen Vogels, who is in charge of biker outreach for the YMCA in the state of Northrhine-Westfalia.

In fact, he says, there are so many churches coming up with services targeted specifically to bikers, and so many "motorcycle pastors" springing up right and left, that it has almost become a fad.

That's because bikers are a good target group for the church's message, he believes.

"In the last 20 years, the fact that motorbikers have become a target audience for the church is tied to the fact that these people have a particularly intense experience," Vogels explained.

"I don't know anyone who doesn't know someone who hasn't lost someone, or known someone who has been in an accident.… Riding a bike is fun, but it is dangerous."

If bikers "ask more questions about the meaning of life" than regular folks do, as Vogels contends, then Biker Churches are waiting to provide the answers. And they do so while taking care not to alienate their flock.

Big events attract tens of thousands

In Germany, the motorbiking season generally runs from early summer though autumn. The biggest Biker Church gathering in the country is an annual event that takes place in Hamburg every June, called the MOGO. It attracts up to 35,000 bikers from around the country.

Biker Church services can be held indoors or outdoors, but the dress code is always casual (read: heavy on the leather), the congregation is mostly male and often bearded, and the service often kicks off with some sort of Christian rock band playing. Also, the sermons tend to use metaphors involving imagery familiar to bikers, such as finding one's direction on the open road of life.

Aside from the massive annual events like MOGO, some German churches host special Biker Church services once or twice a year. Others, like Juergen Vogels' group at the YMCA, host monthly events.

Shedding a difficult image

Vogels says one of the most appealing things about Biker Church is the fact that it is not regular church - where many bikers would feel unwelcome at best.

"In the end of the 60s and early 70s, the motorbike scene was strongly influenced by 'motorcycle clubs' like Hell's Angels and Bandidos," Vogels conceded. "Bikers still have that image of being involved in criminal activity, even if most of them aren't," he said.

"Nowadays bikers can be found throughout society, in all different occupations. But they can't get rid of that image. So they don't feel so welcome at a normal church service," Vogels said.

In late autumn, when the motorbiking season winds down, is when the biker church takes on one of its most important tasks: holding memorial services for those who were killed or injured over the course of the summer.

Hans-Juergen Funke, age 57, leads a Christian biker group in Essen, Germany, called the Flying Angels. He lost his brother-in-law to a motorcycle accident, and broke his own hip in a motorbike accident when he was a teenager.

But he couldn't stay away from bikes, and he got back in the saddle eight years ago. What he takes away from the Biker Church services are mostly the messages that help him to deal with death and loss, he says.

"For motorcycle drivers in particular, death is always just around the corner. When we drive off in the morning, we don't know if we'll come back alive," Funke said.

But being on the road is still what it's all about. When asked, most of the congregants at Biker Church say they are there for the music, the sermon, or the good company. But it is clear that for many, the best part of the day comes when the service is done, coffee has been drunk, and the congregation disperses.

Then, everyone climbs on their bikes for the traditional post-church tour through the countryside.

Author: Jennifer Abramsohn

Editor: Jane Paulick