The challenge for them and for us is not in the faithfulness of God's response but in our ability to recognize true sustenance when we see it, a wilderness when we are in it and the actions of God when they occur.

The reading from Exodus takes time, offers it to God, breaks it open and bids the people eat. The blood of a lamb marked that tenth month of the year. Its flesh was food indeed for those ready to depart from a land of slavery. The blood of the lamb and the Word of God turned the tenth month into the first: "This month shall mark for you the beginning of months," the Book of Exodus recounts.

The hurried meal became a symbol of a new Genesis, a creative break from the past, an escape from the flesh pots of Egypt that looked like abundance but were their own kind of wilderness. In Egypt before the Passover the garlic and leeks were a food that was no food for a people who were no people. Bitter herbs and hurried bread gave more sustenance for those about to flee. Blood poured out marked that day of remembrance. But new life was the end result.

Over the desert and through the sea - they walked through water with dry feet. Then they almost drowned in the waves of emotions that beset them in the dry heat of the desert. Still, the invisible and almighty God led them with outward and visible signs- a pillar of cloud by day and "all the night through with a glow of fire." The elements of thanksgiving were all there waiting to be transformed. The bread was the bread of angels, but the whine was the noise of the Hebrews missing the point.

All we are sheep that have gone astray too. We are already at the table but often cannot see it. We are always in the wilderness but often do not know it. There is always bread being broken for us and life being poured out. Sometimes are hearts and our hands are open to receive the cup. But sometimes our hand is raised in a fist and our heart is clenched against God and our neighbor. Then we leave no room for the bread of angels or the body of Christ. We are so easily distracted that we need channel markers to help us tell the river from the desert.

So on the night before he died Jesus took the Passover, gave thanks, and broke it. Freedom from slavery, the power of God with us - no longer a lamb from our flocks but the lamb of God- "This is my body which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me." The symbols of the common loaf and the Passover lamb were conflated with the person of Christ as Jesus held up the bread. There is one bread and one body; One Lord and Father of all.

Then Jesus took the cup, and even in the desert of betrayal gave thanks. "Take this and divide it among yourselves...This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood."

"He split hard rocks in the wilderness and gave them drink as from the great deep." From the rock at which he prayed at Gesthemane to the rock on which he would die at Golgatha Jesus remained faithful, pouring out his life for us. The cup of Christ is water in the desert, faith in the face of abandonment, and the fire of life springing up from the ashes of death.

Judas sat at the table along with the rest of the twelve. The table of God always includes the righteous, the apparently righteous and the clearly fallen, thanks be to God. If we live love enough each of us will probably cycle through each of these states of being, perhaps over and over again.

We do not need to beat ourselves up over our lack of perfection. Come to Christ's table as you are. As the singer songwriter Leonard Cohen wrote in his song, Anthem, "forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in."

Jesus came to be a light in the darkness. We can acknowledge our darkness and bring it to the table with us. Our darkness will not overcome him. He will enlighten us. And God willing, others will see God glimmering through us - our strengths and weaknesses are of equal use to God.

Look at the people from whom we are spiritually descended. It is like watching a long slow dawning over a land of shadows. Abraham, the father of our faith pretended Sarah was his sister because he was afraid of Pharaoh. Jacob, the trickster stole his brother's blessing. The brothers of Joseph, from whom we get the twelve tribes of Israel of which Jesus spoke, sold Joseph into slavery. Jonah heard the word of God and ran the other way rather than speaking it to the people of Niniveh. Solomon for all his wisdom held court over a kingdom that drifted toward other Gods. And King David did more than drift towards another man's wife. Peter, the rock on which the church was to be built gathered no moss when questioned in Pilate's courtyard. These are our spiritual forefathers - Patriarchs, prophets and mere human beings - cracked vessel through whom the light of God still shone.

Each time we set the table as Jesus commanded us to do time is suspended- we are gathered around the table along with the twelve, one body with all faithful people. The upper room contains saints and sinners, and people on the way from one state to the other. It always does and it always will. The bread and the wine are always within reach, eternally offered for the forgiveness of sin, eternally needed for the forgiveness of sins. We sit sometimes as betrayers, sometimes as disciples, and sometimes as the coolly indifferent. But Christ remains the host, now and forever. Take, eat, do this in remembrance of Him.