I was sitting in line for confession one Saturday when I noticed how my downcast eyes darted repeatedly to a stained-glass window overhead. The church was cold, and no lights illuminated the space, but the Saturday sun which streamed through the stained-glass windows cast fractured light down upon the white altar and the dark pews, bringing warmth and light. The paned window my eyes were affixed upon, portrayed Jesus Christ, clothed in a tunic the color of fresh blood with a