The Armor of the Rider: Helmet, Pads, and Faith

Opening Scripture

“Clothe thy fragile carbon temple, O Rider, with the Helmet of Salvation, the Gauntlets of Mercy, and the Knees of Repentance; for faith without pads is dead—and also bleeding.”
— The Book of Bearings 4:12

Sermon

Beloved wheelievers, saints of the sidewalk and prophets of the pump track: gather close. Today we speak not of horsepower but of holy power, not of torque but of testimony, for the path is narrow, the gravel is plentiful, and the speed bump croucheth like a lion waiting to devour the inattentive. Take up, therefore, the Armor of the Rider—that ye may stand in the evil day (also known as “leaf season”) and having done all, still glide.

I. Gird Thy Dome: The Helmet of Salvation (MIPS 3:16)

Brethren and sistren, we do not strap the helmet to appease the Safety Gods™—we strap it to rebuke the Nosedive. Consider the testimony of Brother Caleb, who once said, “I shall just roll to the corner mart bare-headed, for verily I am only going 12.” And lo, the Corner Mart became Caleb’s Golgotha, and the asphalt wrote his initials upon his brow.

Put on, therefore, the Helmet of Salvation: full-face for the penitent, half-shell for the hopeful, and a properly tightened chin strap for the wise. For the helmet is not a sign of fear but a sacrament of foresight. Its EPS foam is a choir of tiny angels, each crying, “Not today, pavement.” And the MIPS of the righteous—Many Impacts, Peace Sustained—turneth rotational forces away like heresy at a synod.

If any among you say, “But my hair is immaculate,” answer them thus: “Better a dent in thy pride than a dent in thy skull.” Selah.

II. The Gauntlets of Mercy and the Knees of Repentance

Let us now praise famous pads, whose Velcro endureth forever. For the wrist that clasps the remote in faith may yet meet the earth in fellowship. Let the Gauntlets of Mercy (wrist guards) be unto you as ushers at the church door, catching your fall and guiding you safely to your seat.

Likewise the Knees of Repentance—kneepads sanctified by scuffs—preach a better sermon than I. Every scrape is a parable: “Thou leaned when thou shouldst have looked; thou carved when thou shouldst have centered.” Put them on before the ride and avoid the altar call after.

And what of the Elbows of Exhortation? Brethren, elbows are the original prophets—sharp, stubborn, and always sticking out at the wrong time. Enrobe them that they may not prophesy bruises upon thee. For it is written: “Blessed are the padded, for they shall inherit the board.” (Gospel of Grip 2:8)

III. Lift Up the Shield of PSI

Among the greatest mysteries of the faith is tire pressure. Too soft, and thou wallowest like a doubter; too hard, and the tiniest pebble becomes Goliath. But blessed is the rider who finds the narrow way—the 18–22 PSI that leadeth beside still waters and away from high-speed wobbles.

Hold forth thy pump like a censer, and watch the gauge as a watchman on the wall. For PSI is not a number; it is a covenant. The tire swells with belief, the carcass sings a psalm, and the valve whispers, “Go in balance.” Even the dreaded magnetic pushback—that stern deacon of our congregation—shall be gentled when PSI is righteous.

When the path is winter-hard and salted, thou shalt lower it a little; when summer heat intoxicates the asphalt, thou shalt raise it a hair. Thus sayeth The Epistle to the Sidewalls 1:7: “Adjust a little, live a lot.”

IV. Walk Not by Sight, But by Firmware (And Other Temptations)

Consider the firmware update: a burning bush that appears at the worst possible time—five minutes before the group ride. The faithless say, “Tap yes; what could possibly happen?” But the wise reply, “Not in public, Satan.” For firmware is a wilderness trial. Thou shalt update in the garage, surrounded by Wi-Fi and snacks, and thou shalt not wander from the app whilst it ministereth unto thy board.

Beware also the Footpad of Delusion, which sometimes sleepeth when thou standest and awaketh when thou step-est off. Cleanse it with holy alcohol wipes and keep thy stance firm. If it flickers like a false prophet, recalibrate, and if it persisteth, bring it to the elders (your local shop).

And lo, the Speed Bump of Pride—that smooth-backed camel in the road—seduceth with whispers: “Hit me at 20 for the ’Gram.” But the Spirit of Pushback testifieth softly, “Nay, child.” Heed the still small voice—for pushback is not punishment; it is pastoral care. Ignore it, and thou shalt meet the Valley of the Shadow of Twenty Percent Battery, where alarms wail and range anxiety creepeth as fog upon the bay.

Finally, beware the Leaves of November, each a tiny apostate preaching slipperiness and regret. Kick them aside as thou wouldst false doctrine, or pass over them as upon glass with humility and centered hips. For the Fall of Man is one thing; the Fall of the Footpad is another entirely.

Closing Words

Let us depart with this charge, O saints of stoke: strap the Helmet of Salvation, buckle the Gauntlets of Mercy, secure the Knees of Repentance, and lift high the Shield of PSI. Check thy firmware in secret; confess thy footpad before it betrays thee; and walk not by clout but by caution.

Benediction:
May your batteries be bountiful,
your bearings anointed,
your lines as smooth as living water,
and your pushback heard clearly, early, and obeyed gladly.
Go now in peace—and in pieces of protective foam.
Glide-men.

“For the Rider who armors up shall not fear gravel nor gossip, nor the sudden kiss of asphalt; for wisdom is a full-face, and prudence is padded.”
— Acts of the Axle 2:07