It's been well-documented how I feel about church-going, but that does little to express the meaning, joy, and spiritual encouragement and instruction I find everyday in my world.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjr-6nTnJ3At2p1yDNxXijzSY_2G-nfvScqai8RiYanh7fUKSTlXG032PB0tRvT6MIvDaO6DyrfS-ESAtb-HBDuB0sL8jGfbF7yJPZXJkaPTeMp3drdvf80Hg53GN6MhSdH5IE-j5Z-LM/s400/shootertheelk.jpg)
The story of "Shooter" the elk is a fine example of what constitutes "church" for me as I take my place here in the
First Church of Chez Corbett, coffee mug and laptop close at hand. Several years ago, after graduating from Seminary, if I had pursued doctoral work (instead of having our baby boy four years ago), I would have focused on how moments like these in our existence constitute a brief encounter between realms--the numinous reaching toward the finite to express perfect, pure love. This kind of simple tenderness...I choose to believe it is a great sign.
Check it out
here.
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