I sat a bench at the Cleveland Museum of Art that I might spend time, as I am wont, with the Schlagl Altarpiece. I was alone for a while until a young couple entered into the gallery. They held hands, they laughed, flirted and made their way around the room. Coming upon the Schlagl Altarpiece, they stopped and were brought to silence as their eyes followed the visual narrative of the Passion. Neither said, “Oh, my God!” The words did not need to be spoken. They stood there for a few minutes and then left in silence, still holding hands.