Episcopalians pride themselves on restraint and single-digit golf handicaps. They don’t jump, sing, and wave their hands over their heads unless they’re being electrocuted or thrown from a plane. Neither do Episcopalians frolic around sanctuaries, brandishing on raised poles big banners with tongues of fire and doves embroidered on them. Their services don’t include generously proportioned middle-aged women leaping like impalas down the aisles, trailing colored streamers in their wake (“dancing in the Spirit,” as Tyler called it). I saw investment bankers speaking in tongues and women dressed
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