A perfectly typical street in Brooklyn's Cobble Hill. Walking without a care in the world to meet with my Census Bureau staffer and... suddenly... there's... Jesus in a box! Good god almighty. How can He breathe? Is He being protected from the evil world out there or something? How can He do good when locked in a big plastic upright tomb? It was altogether disturbing. Try as I might to figure out what aid I might offer, I paused and wondered... WWJD? And then I walked on to the coffee shop. Amen.
I've heard of Prince Albert in a can...but Jesus in a box? That's downright freaky.
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