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               "Now that'snot compromising the holy life. Did you plan to change the wine into blood with

one hand and your kids' diapers with the other?"

               "Actually, we're not married yet," Kevin replied matter-of-factly, "Not officially, anyway.

You can't expect me to make the leap from heaven to earth in one jump."

               Kevin waited for Father Feinstein's trademark look of confusion to appear, then continued,

"No, I'm just like our former parishioners. When I chose this world over God's, I needed a damn

good incentive and plenty of time. Oh, I got one, but before you think. Sometimes, the incentive

appears as the reassurance that maybe God likes this world a little, too. What takes some getting used

to is that in this context, 'God' is really your own sense of moral judgment. For a while, you'll still

call it God, but that's ok."

               Here we go again, Father Feinstein thought. He switched his headrest to his other hand. Kevin

was a little too lighthearted-- for a change. He didn't have the same authoritative power in his voice

as before. Whereas before Kevin might have been negotiating a contract, now it sounded like he was

revealing the loophole.

               "What could provide the spark to make people give up God, you ask?" Kevin began, while

Father Feinstein hopelessly tried to remember if he had asked anything. "Well, it helps if God himself

is handing out the incentive. If it's Godwho's giving the permission to ignore him, people listen. He

just needs the chance, or shall we say, the forum, to give people a taste of what the good earth has to

offer. Or, as I like to say, a forum that uses material rewards as a means for encouraging spiritual

renewal."

               Father Feinstein's brain was gripped tightly and wrung like a wet, slimy washcloth. He winced

in pain, but somehow a few drops of knowledge got left behind.

               "Are you saying that you wantedme to--" Father Feinstein started. He received a

confirmation notice in the form of a smile on Kevin's face, and hung his head. He stared at the

minuscule crevices running through the Burger Messiah countertop. He tried to let the fear stop him

from trying to understand, but his attempt failed.