Divine in the Funk

Could a simple but widely-awake Pilgrim get an ecstatic glimpse of the Divine in a short but intense set by a James Brown cover band?

Last night I believe I did.

I saw a Hispanic Punk channeling Mr. Brown in all his sweaty glory. I saw a rag-tag five-piece horn section pumping up the funk. I saw a charismatic group of needy souls get up and get down. I saw white girls finding bliss in the Funky Chicken.

The Divine was in the Funk.