My church history professor in seminary was from Jamaica and he spoke in a beautiful, almost musical accent that was also unfortunately sometimes impenetrable for me and my classmates. My memory of that accent has pushed aside everything else I recall from this lecture:
Dr. R.: Now, they asked, what if a moose crept into the sanctuary and ate the host?
Entire Class: Wait, what?
Dr. R.: A moose. A little, tiny moose.
Entire Class: Ohhh, a mouse.
Dr. R.: Yes, yes, yes. A moose.
And so I’m afraid I was savoring that mental image rather than paying attention to the rest of the lecture, and so I don’t know how this particular theological debate concluded.
Ну вот и как теперь развидеть крадущегося по алтарю крохотного лося?..