Toolbox For Faith

Some sermons and Sunday School lessons stick with people for a lifetime, while others are forgotten almost as the words are spoken. Chip and Dan Heath in their book, “Made to Stick,” explore the reasons why some ideas are sticky and others are not. The book offers a model for how you can make your ideas (read sermons and teaching) more engaging and more memorable. I have tried using a few of their six principles in my writing and speaking and they work. The six principles are known as the SUCCESs model: Simple, Unexpected, Concrete, Credible, Emotional and Stories. The book is wonderful and their website contains lots of free helpful resources.

The traffic was unusually heavy on my first Ash Wednesday in Miami as I moved slowly down 112th Avenue toward Dixie Highway. Since we had a noon service, I looked very formal and pastor-like in my suit and clerics. In my rear view mirror, I could see that the woman driving the car behind me was multitasking. While she drove, she was talking on her cell phone held between her ear and her left shoulder as she applied make up with her right hand. I assumed that her left hand was on the steering wheel but I wasn’t sure.

The row of cars moved forward as the light changed until the car in front of me suddenly stopped to avoid a car from the day care center that had pulled out in front of her. I hit the brakes and stopped in time. The woman behind me braked too late, hitting the back of my Toyota.

I got out of the car to check the damage as she exited her vehicle. A sense of panic immediately appeared on her face.

“Oh my gosh, it’s Ash Wednesday and I hit a priest.” She repeated it three times, each a little louder before continuing. “I haven’t been to mass and I hit a priest. Father, can you possibly forgive me. I will go as soon as possible.” By this time, she was almost kneeling in front of me in the opposite lane as cars whizzed by. Drivers in Miami stop for very little. Now was not the time to explain that I was actually a Lutheran minister.

I could see that I had only an insignificant scratch on my bumper so I said to her, “It’s OK. My car is not damaged. I forgive you.”

She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Oh, thank you, Father, thank you. I promise, I am going to mass! Thank you for forgiving me.”

As she stood up to leave, I spoke the only priestly phrase that I knew, “Bless you, my child.”