The politburo in session

A recovering alcoholic is shipwrecked miles out to sea.  He winds up on an uncharted, deserted island and has to make the best of it.  Five years later, he finally spots a ship out on the horizon and stokes up his bonfire to get its attention.

The captain of the ship, another recovering alcoholic, sees the fire and immediately changes course towards the island.  Meanwhile, he grabs his binoculars and studies the situation.  He sees a guy waving and running frantically up and down the beach, beard hanging down to his knees, and he also spots three small structures at the edge of the trees.

The castaway is rescued, taken below, and is given a meal and some time to rest, and is sent up to see the captain.  “So… you glad to be rescued?”

“Oh, yeah, you bet.  I’ve been praying for years for somebody to come along.”

“How long were you on the island?”

“Five looooong years!”

“All by yourself?”

“Yes.  All alone for five long years.”

“Well,” observes the captain, “It looks like you didn’t do too bad for yourself.  I saw three huts on the island.  Did you build them?”

“Oh, yes!”  he said proudly.  “Built ’em with my own two hands!  See the one on the right?  That was my house, my home.  That’s where I lived!  And the one on the left, that’s my home group!”

“Your home group?  You’re by yourself for five years and you built yourself a homegroup!  That’s fantastic!  What a strong statement of faith and dedication to your program.  I’m proud of you!  What a testimony of experience, strength and hope.  But what about the hut in the middle?”

“Oh,” he frowns, “That’s my old home group; I didn’t like the way they ran things!”