No one is sinless

He reprimanded everyone for their sins

The liars were criticized, "Such filthy serpents live in your mouth, they hiss and they cover over the truth with a false skin"

The alcoholics were condemned, "You weak pitiful creatures, hiding yourself from life, why can't you overcome, or is your soul just not strong enough to climb the ladder?"

Even the thinkers were chastised, "You spend so much time writing done these formulas and equations, for what? You have done nothing good in your entire existence. Except for consuming space, time and resources"

He'd yell to the masses, "Turn to God and he shall give you salvation"

But who was God? Was it him?

When the needy and the hopeless came to Church, who answered their prayers, who spoke to them? Was it God?

No, the Priest would go to them, and give them what they needed

To those who are struck by poverty, he gave money, he gave a plan, he gave an idea... He gave to they who have been brought to their lows by chaos, structure, and he shone for them a path

To those whose hearts had gone black, the red now an inky substance seeping life from their soul, to them he'd give a hug, and a few kind words. The light of God he'd show them

To those struck with loss, they who have seen the swiftness of death and the cruelty of fate, for them the Priest would affirm life, affirm meaning, affirm existence

He was a light that many sought, a man of many good thoughts

Was he kind? Why he was the kindest

Was he warm? Why he was as warm as, maybe even warmer than, the sun

Was he a good man? The only one better than him would Christ himself

The question still plagues the story... who helped the people? Was it God or was it the man? Or is it the case that God lives through us? That God is found in living the good life?

But the one thing that darkened his light, the one vice that blinded his sight, was that the Priest found so much delight in criticism and chastising...

And was there any point to his chastising... was there any relevance to his criticism?

There they sat, the trio of friends, they'd known each other since childhood... the only people whom the Priest would not criticize, the only 2 whom he'd loved as dearly as himself

They sat there round the stone table... gathered to discuss a topic which should never have happened

An event that would always have seemed impossible...

"Everyone's a saint until sin becomes accessible" the painter said, staring at the Priest

"Sainthood is not about being sinless" The Priest replied

"So then what is Sainthood? If saints are supposed to be examples, role models for people to follow, then, how can a man of sin be a Saint?" the school teacher interjected

"Everyone sins... sin is a necessary and fundamental part of humanity..."

"And you've understood that now?" the painter said interrupting the Priest, pointing his finger at him, his eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes tense, "For so many years you've treated people like they were plates, like they were supposed to be spotless... so what changed? Sinning made you human? Now you can finally see people for what they are?"

"I apologize" The Priest said, his eyes focused on the center of the stone table, his expression stern and his arms crossed "I forgot what it meant to be human... I was not a Saint, far from it"

"And you are now?" the painter interjected

"Well, what makes you more of a Saint now than you were before?" the teacher asked scratching his chin

"My friends, God is merciful, God is forgiving, let me remind you of First John, chapter 1, verse 9, If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

"The God you claim to represent is able to forgive people for sinning, he can even clean them of their sins but you? Why didn't you forgive? Why were you so angry about people sinning? The Bible admits that sin is natural, Ecclesiastes 7:20, Surely there is not a righteous man on earth who does good and never sins, Romans 3:23, For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, humans are bound to sin, but it took temptation to make you realize that?" his breathing grew heavier and the painter's eyes became darker, wearier

"Why do you keep talking about my past? I was wrong, I admit it... I was naive, and saw the world as being capable of sinlessness... but it is, nobody can live a life without sin, sin is inevitable, but..."

"You want to know why I'm so angry" the painter stood up, and bent over bringing his face over to the Priest, his eyes grew watery and a tear crept down his cheek "It was YOUR judgement that got my son exiled... and it was YOUR judgement that killed him"

"My friend..."

"Friend? you are a friend to no one... You call yourself a priest, yet you sit in your ivory tower, cover yourself in the finest robes and enjoy a pleasurable life here behind the church walls... Do you even know what it means to live? What it means to be a commoner? All you know is how to be like an elite... pure, perfect, and protected... and what about us? The masses? We just follow and listen, there is nothing for us... What makes you or anyone else worthy of Saint hood?

You want to know what makes a person truly a Saint? It's not his knowledge of God or how many verses in the Bible he's memorized, nor is it his capabilities over the gospel truths, nor is it the amount of prayers he says on a daily basis

A person becomes a Saint when they have truly lived, truly loved, truly suffered... when after everything they have learnt God's grace, not through beatings and teachings constantly drilled into their head, BUT through experience...

A Saint meets God by living, not rituals, worship or prayer, but living. He works, just like the common man, he suffers, just like the common man, and he loves, just like the common man

He experiences tragedy and bliss, sorrow and joy, grief and love, he experiences intense passions, overwhelming desires, temptations and desires

He sees sin, hears sin, feels sin... knows sin

Yet he overcomes it all, not through reason, or prayer, or even "belief", he overcomes through the strength of the soul and the strength of his learnt faith, a faith experienced in living

You are no Saint, and you never will be 

You have not lived

And certainly, you will not live" the painter sat down, crossed his arms, and with eyes still screaming of despair, a heart trying to break out of his chest and lungs that almost ran dry... he looked down at the floor beneath his feet

A silence overtook the group, the atmosphere was filled with the emptiness of particles, a void in motion

"I wanted to help people, to bring them salvation..."

The painter smiled, still heartbroken, but trying his best to overlook the crimes committed against him by his friend "You helped many people, you helped me, you helped him too, so many people are blessed by your presence... but you have hurt a lot of people too... your first sin was not killing the prostitute, it was criticism... judgement..."

The teacher nodded and the trio sat there for a while, not talking, staring at one another, each lost in deep thought, and soon...

One by one, they'd get up and leave