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song, and midway through people are still milling around, still talking, still coming in late and finding seats."

"That sounds very distracting," he said disapprovingly. "How in the world do you pray and reflect before the service starts?"

"We don't. We pray after the second or third song."

"So when you're preaching, when do you walk in?" He still had in his mind the processional entrance that the priest and altar boys make at the beginning of the Mass.

"Same time as everyone else. And I'm expected to greet as many people as I can on my way to the pulpit. Then, after a few songs, when everyone is settled down, I pray."

"Just like that? No contemplation or reflection beforehand. Just chaos, then straight into Let Us Pray'?"

"Pretty much," I answered. "Then we sing some more, do the collection, then I preach and do an altar call, then a closing prayer. It's all timed almost down to the minute. Then it's time for lunch, which is what everyone was waiting for in the first place."

Father Boyle shook his head slowly. I couldn't believe he'd never seen this before, but maybe he had confined his ecumenical bridge-building to Episcopal and Eastern Orthodox churches.

"So you just flip a switch and go from talking about football to talking to God," he said.

"Yes."

"No wonder you're the fastest growing denomination in America. Your religion has a drive-thru window."

I smiled and nodded, and we were silent for a long while before he spoke again. "So tell me what you're seeking refuge from on this bleak, rainy day."

If I had known, I would have gladly told him.

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