Someone told me recently about a Methodist man who lived in a traditional Catholic neighborhood. Every Friday the Catholics were driven to distraction because, while they were sadly eating fish, the Methodist was outside grilling steaks. That wonderful aroma from the grill was bothersome to the Catholics. They worked on the Methodist, attempting to convert him. Finally they succeeded. They took the Methodist to the priest who sprinkled Holy Water on the man while saying, "Born a Methodist, raised a Methodist, now a Catholic." The Catholic neighbors were delighted, but their joy was short-lived. The next Friday evening the scent of grilling steaks again drifted through the neighborhood. The Catholics all rushed over to the ex-Methodist’s house to remind him of his new diet. They found him s…