Sometimes I'm asked if I'm a Christian.
Sometimes I answer: "Sometimes".

And that's because...

Sometimes I want to be a saint, and sometimes I don't.

Sometimes I want to seek God's revelation in the waves of space, and sometimes not.

Sometimes I want to believe that God has a great purpose for me. But at other times I believe that He has taken my feet out of the midst of the stones of fire so that I can walk in this world and live an ordinary life, away from perversions but also away from pretensions of holiness.

Sometimes I remember the parable of the wheat and the tares. Then I would like to be wheat and get away from the tares. But other times I am convinced that the wheat and the tares are inside the human animal and cannot be separated without harming him.

Sometimes I feel immense compassion for the suffering of man. I would like to dip my finger in my mouth, place it in his mouth and say: "I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you". But at other times I wonder if he is really worthy to receive that gift.

Sometimes I wonder who I am. But other times I feel that I know it very well. I am not John, I am not Peter, but who I am I tell you today. Listen carefully and don't forget. My name is Holy and Profane.