Sanctifying the Embassy Suites on K Street

It occurred to me last night, while I was staying in a $400-a-night hotel, dining with $700-per-hour lawyers drinking $20-per-glass port, that there is a way to make Christ present to the souls around me. And it wasn't by denouncing this luxury, or even speaking about the gospel.

It was doing something hidden -- such as choosing the least-favorite sounding side dish -- and praying to the guardian angel of each one of my confreres.

Something maddenly as simple as this.