I remember one rainy Sunday morning, my ancient Chevy Nova died in the middle of a busy intersection. I was coming home from my overnight shift as a houseparent for severely physically and mentally disabled children. Dozens of cars loaded with people on their way to church sped by me as I attempt to push the car out of the way all by my 19-year-old lonesome. The guy who stopped to help me? Also on his way home from night shift.

Once I got home, dried off, and calmed down, I pictured Jesus waitin' on the front steps of several churches delivering a few dope slaps.