On Easter, at my parish, the statue of the crucified Christ is removed
from the huge cross that hangs behind the altar. In place of Jesus’
broken, bleeding body, a large wreath of yellow and white flowers and a
sash of clean white fabric hang from the rough wood of the cross.
“Where is Jesus?” a little boy asked me last night as he waited outside
the Confessional for his First Sacrament of Reconciliation.