So the answer was no. As Father Richards repeated his lesser sins, Malachi looked tiredly away from the grate.

It was exhausting, this kind of relentless self-deprecation. He had contributed to it some himself, but in ordinary circumstances he would not have allowed his own beliefs to influence the advice he gave out. Richards was hopeless -- not because he had to be, but because he refused to accept that he could be anything else, regardless of his desperate attempts to correct himself.

He did not need correction. He needed to open his eyes and see beyond the pews.

"Gabriel," Malachi managed in a gentler tone. "Sometimes all you need is a moment to breathe. Take your time, go out and visit people when you want to, and not because you are obligated. Pray for strength without straining to find the right answer. It will come to you when God decides you are ready for it."

What Richards needed wasn't another visit to a monastery, but a holiday away from the church entirely. Malachi considered saying more, but left it there, for the other priest to pray as he wished.