Religion: Flying Bishop

The sun-helmeted pilot waited for the thumbs-up sign from a frizzy-haired native, then raced his blue and white Cessna down the crushed-coral airstrip, over the palm-dotted swamplands, and high into the sky to hurdle the jagged mountain peaks concealed in thick cumulus clouds. Settling his sandaled feet on the rudder, he flew with one hand as the other fingered a heavy gold cross hanging from his neck. After a short flight-over forbidding jungles, the pilot banked his plane, swooped down toward a clearing and made a smooth touchdown on another makeshift airfield. There...