“Who’s a saint?”

I am, why are you asking?

“Because some Mormons I met claimed that they were and I wasn’t. Am I?”

God knows.

“Can’t I know too?”

Sure. But I can’t.

“Why can’t you? I want to know.”

Well, because I can’t look into your heart. Only God can infallibly read hearts. The rest of us operate on the basis of what we see and hear—“by their fruits,” you know.

“But can’t I know something or other about it?”

Sure. If you have trusted in Jesus Christ as the One Who died in your place taking your place and your punishment for your sins, and believe God raised Him from the dead, well them . . .

“Then, I’m a saint?”

You got it! Everyone who genuinely depends on Him for salvation is a saint.

“Ok. So I’m a saint, in spite of what those Mormons said. But what is a saint? You told me how to be one; but you didn’t say what a saint is.”

The word means “one who is set apart.”

“Oh. . . .Set apart from what?”

From a life in which all you do displeases God—read Romans 8:8 sometime. But that isn’t all.

“No?”

No

“Well, tell me what more there is.”

OK. You are also set apart to something; not merely from something.

“Hmmm. To what?”

To righteous living for God’s glory.

Oh.

If you’ve had a change in your life that has meant a turnabout of that sort, you have good reason to believe you are a saint.

“Good. It isn’t as much change as I’d like, but there has been a marked difference.”

Great! Then we can expect to see one another in that line when the saints go marching in.

See you, bro!