The Burtitization of our church continued with flair Sunday night. He walks in, reeking even more of tobacco-ey likker-breath- and thrusts one of the tightest grips on my right hand that I can remember since I used to get in gripping contests with my high school buds. He seemed happy to be there.

He whips out his wallet, garbles something about the "envelopes".........(I knew what he was getting ready to do. He wanted to give an offering and I was feeling uncomfortable because I wanted him to know he wasn't obligated to give- he was our guest. I knew that he worked at a pizza place and that money is an issue for him, especially since he whipped out a twenty. I glanced into his wallet in that instant and saw no other bills in there........did he realize what he had just done? Okay..........way too much analysis, then and now. I chose not to impugn his dignity in his gift and received it with joy on behalf of Veritas.)

I tell him I am glad to see him (and I was). I wondered how he would react with twice as many people as last week? He still ate at the table with Jason. We started a verse-by-verse study of Revelation. I would soon find out his response to that as well.

Later, my wife calls me to inform me about her conversation with Burt of which I only heard a snippet to the effect of, "can I be honest with you?" His honesty concerned the book of Revelation, to which he opined, "I don't believe in that sh-t."

Cathy also said she smelled smoke in the bathroom and found an ash on the floor. That was pretty awesome. You know there's some trust built up when you can sneak a smoke in a near-total stranger's bathroom.

Who said church done this way wasn't messy?

And I wouldn't have it any other way.