Whilst in England for a conference and my (successful!) doctoral thesis viva, I took some time to visit the Cathedral Church of St. Philip. St. Philip’s is very modest – not what one might expect from a cathedral – but it boasts some exquisite stained glass by Edward Burne-Jones. Indeed, one’s eyes cannot help but be drawn to the large stained-glass adorning its apse. The image is of the Ascension. Christ is depicted in glory; beneath him are 11 apostles and Mary gazing upward. Christ is cloaked in a deep red robe and flanked on either side by angels. With the sun shining brightly on the afternoon I visited, the red robe glows so intensely that one’s view is almost overcome with it. It is as if the robe has become a red blotch upon our vision; we cannot look anywhere without seeing it. Because it is there – everywhere – we must either leave or look at it and ponder its existence. And so I pondered the blood of Christ on this warm English afternoon. A parishioner scurried about me dusting the pews; a vicar sat nearby reading; a group of elderly women held a quiet meeting in a corner. Even so I was able to have a moment of something meaningful.