It was another beautiful day on the Oval. The bright sun warmed the hundreds of students strewn beneath it. The weather was accommodating to all activities ­— playing catch, conversing with friends or basking in the rays. A large group gathered near a towering tree, surrounding an energetic preacher. The preacher turned to a portion of the group and offered an insightful declaration.

“Eating No. 1 Chinese gives you devil’s horns.”

He looked to his left. “The buckeye is a symbol of greed and oppression.”
Some students snickered sarcastically. Others shook their heads in disbelief. Still more joined the audience, eager to hear what the preacher was saying. This was a common occurrence, especially in spring. The preacher’s reverberating voice regularly echoed throughout the Oval and attracted dozens of students from all sides of the grassy oasis.

But one night, long after the students had gone home and the preacher had settled into his nest in the Orton Hall bell tower, it began to rain. It descended slowly at first, but gradually escalated into an untamed thunderstorm. The pouring droplets were soothing to the preacher and eased his mind into reevaluating his strong beliefs and radical opinions.

The next day, he stood in the same place and wore the same clothes, but his message was very different. Instead of being flamboyant and extreme, he was unusually subdued and moderate. No one stopped to listen. The lacking audience bothered the preacher, but he pressed on. Still no one. He now was heartbroken and plopped down Indian-style on the grass, chin pinned to chest.

Shortly thereafter, a young man walked up to the preacher and asked why he was so depressed. After hearing the problem, the man offered to stay and console him.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” the preacher asked.

“Yes, but I have an ‘A’ in it, so missing one day won’t hurt.”

“What class is it?”

“Nickel Stacking 503.”

The preacher’s eyes opened wide in disbelief, but he persisted to ask why no one was listening to him.

“Why don’t you ask them?” the man suggested. A small group of students were walking past. The preacher stopped them and asked why they refused to listen to his sermons.

“Are you kidding?” one girl exclaimed. “The grass is wet and another shower looks to be just minutes away.”

“And besides,” one of the guys added, “You aren’t saying anything crazy today. People like it when you say crazy things.”

“They do?” the preacher asked.

“Absolutely. We think it’s funny when you make off-the-wall claims. We never believe them, but it is entertaining nonetheless. For example, everybody knows No. 1 Chinese doesn’t give you devil’s horns. It just gives you indigestion. But it was still funny to hear you say it.”

The preacher stood, silent and stunned, taking in the news. He looked at a third person in the crowd. “Why won’t you listen to me?”

“I would,” he said, “But the Cavs play tonight, and I still have to get tickets to see Conan O’Brien.”

After hearing this, the preacher was flooded with emotions. He stepped back and took a deep breath. “So you mean people only listen to me because I say outlandish things, the weather is nice or they have nothing better to do?”

“Pretty much,” they replied in unison.
“Now that’s what I call an epiphany,” the preacher said.