"Caleb: "Drink of this, for it is my blood." You know, I always loved the story of the Last Supper. The body and blood of Christ becoming rich, red wine. I recall, as a boy, though, I couldn't help but think: what would happen if you were at the Last Supper, and you ordered the white? A nice oaky Chardonnay or White Zin. I mean, would he make that out of his lymph or some-all? Never did bring it up. Suppose there was a reason why I never spent too long in one parish. Just looking for answers. Just looking for the Lord in the wrong damn places. Then you showed me the light."