"So, Tyler, what's your gift mix?" calls this pastor from the front seat where he's driving me to see his new church building. Next to me sits his friend, a bald-headed baseball fan named Apple. Exactly why he's joining us for this little show and tell was never explained. Next to the pastor sits Pastor Jon, my friend and boss.

"Are you, like, musical?"

A fair guess, I think. After all, what would a ragged, struggling church be hiring if not a ragged, struggling musician?

"No," I say. "I'm...I don't know. I like people."

The pastor, bedecked in a blue hawaii-print shirt, laughs like a bomb going off.

"Well!" He booms. "The church will cure you of that!"

Apple chuckles brightly on one side. I realize my mistake quickly. I was supposed to be impressing these people with my quick business sense and confident Gospel-savvy, but my make-up is running and they're seeing me for my young, idealistic, head-in-the-sky self.

"I don't mean anything," Pastor Honolulu says. "That's great. It's just that, in this business, you'll stop liking people real fast. Understand?"

The irony of all this strikes me as too perfect. I want to say something theatrical like, "I think we understand each other perfectly." Or, even better, "Guy like you must see that happen a lot." Or, in my wildest dreams, "Pull the hell over. Call me if you ever meet Jesus."

So, I don't say anything.

The tour through his church takes most of the day. There is "The Gathering Place" - a fully functioning coffeehouse and pastry store in the front of the church. "The Warehouse" - their middle and highschool room themed after a guess-what. "Upstreet" - their grade school haunt, strangely named, for the theme here is a barnyard (how the ice cream "shoppe", fire engine, X-Box center fit into the barnyard remains a mystery) And, best of all, "The Stage," a fully functioning theatre for rascals little and big to perform some original plays written by some of their very own church members. The tour takes a few hours, and I'm thinking about how my church tour would go.

"Okay, so, here we have our sanctuary - keyboard and everything, we're pretty excited. Here's the office, you'll notice the color printer - 750 pages to an ink cartridge on this baby. And, yes, that's our bulletin board, featuring some hand written notes from some of our very own church volunteers. My room's back there, with the washer and dryer - any questions?"

Back in their office, I thumb the pages of my grant proposal nervously. Pastor Waikiki Beach pours me some coffee ("It's like our Holy Spirit around here - source of inspiration!") as the rest of his staff strolls in. Worship Pastor, Small Groups Pastor, Associate Pastor, Treasurer, Children's Pastor...

Jokes fly fast and furious, and the laughter that at the end of these jokes is at a level that borders apocalyptic. I play along with a nodding smile and join in. My feeblest efforts are greeted with uproarious chaos. Pastor Jon stays suspiciously aloof.

"Ha, ha, ha!" The pastor wheezes, wiping his eyes, "Whew, boy...that's how it is around here, Tyler."

I guess.

"Now, then," says Pastor Surf n' Turf. "What can we do for you?"

To Be Continued...