Lead Us Not Into Temptation

I remember, as a little girl, learning the "Our Father", first from Mom, and then, when she was working, from Dad.  He was Lutheran so prayed the doxology at the end in a way similar to how it was prayed at Mass...yet with a little different wording.  Mom knew he did this but told us we must pray it as she taught us, so it became a small thing within our family to honor our parents in that special way. It pleased Dad when we prayed the doxology, and it pleased Mom when we didn't.  When they were both home, we prayed the "Catholic way" and still, everyone was happy, for Dad deferred to Mom while giving us a wink.

Even as I remember this fondly, I also recall to mind the part of the Lord's Prayer that terrified me to no end.

...Give us this day our daily bread, 

And forgive us our trespasses

As we forgive those who trespass against us. 

Lead us not into temptation

But deliver us from evil. AMEN.

The prayer scared me, for it seemed to rapidly descend from the comforting image of a yummy loaf of bread (which we didn't have EVERY day, but most days, and I really didn't know why we were praying for something so bland to be given to us DAILY. Or maybe we were praying for it so that it would be there when Mom wanted to serve it, and that prayer always seemed to be answered.)

The next image that came to mind was the word "trespass", and I knew that one. I always saw the black signs with orange wording, surrounded by a white border. I recognized the sign even BEFORE I knew how to read, for Mom pointed them out and told us we must never enter land where we saw that sign. And a few of our neighbors sported them, so we knew without a doubt that "trespassing" was a bad thing. I still remember the warm summer afternoon as we walked the gravel road on the hill over our house, exploring the neighborhood, listening to the sound of large dogs, legendarily vicious dogs warning us in no uncertain terms to heed the signs posted at intervals around the property.

Every time I prayed that prayer, and even to this very day, when I say the word "trespass" I think of that sign, standing out in its warning against a dark fence covered in encroaching foliage. Where, probably, there were big thorns and spiders hiding.

Still, it wasn't "trespass" that made my blood run cold. "Trespass" was just the warning before the REAL problem happened.

Rather, it was...."Temptation"

The very idea of being led into Temptation was enough to give me chills and nightmares. 

Lead us not into temptation

But deliver us from evil. AMEN!

It was very clear to me that "Temptation" was a place, because in the prayer, we were asking God not to lead us there. Any time we were being led somewhere, it was a location. So, it stands to reason that if we were asking God NOT to lead us into Temptation, my first question was:  Why would God lead us somewhere awful?  If God is Love, wouldn't it stand to reason to believe He would NEVER take us by the hand and lead us into some terrible, terrible place, worse than my night terrors, worse than the monster in the closet and the ghost under the bed?

Obviously, Temptation HAD to be an awful place, ESPECIALLY if were imploring He who is all Love not to bring us there.

 In my mind, I envisioned Hell. I thought "Temptation" was where the devil lived, but since "Hell" was a bad word, then we probably couldn't say it in Church, and that's why we called it "Temptation."

I finally Saw Temptation

One summer, we went to visit our Grandmother in Minnesota, in the house where Mom grew up. Mom decided we needed a nap so as soon as our suitcases were brought up to the bedroom, she and Dad pushed the two beds together to accommodate us all, and tucked us in.  Neither of us wanted to sleep, so my brother began the afternoon by telling me the crack between the beds led to Hell.  He said that if the beds separated, we'd fall in and be tortured forever.

I told him to be quiet, leave me alone, and I put my pillow over my head in SPITE of the summer heat and fell into a troubled sleep. Unfortunately, I still remember the dream with a certain vividity.  In the dream, my brother and I were awakened by an earthquake that separated the beds. In between, just as he'd noted, was the crack to Hell, and in spite of all we did to cling to each other and to the blankets and bedposts, we were drawn down into the lair of Satan.  We received a whirlwind tour of this awful, awful place where the heat was unbearable, where the devil laughed incessantly at our demise, until finally, somehow, we escaped.

In the dream, when I screamed, asking where we were, the Devil said to me, "Temptation..."  followed by his evil chuckle.

I still remember waking up, drenched in sweat, shaking, the sun still high in the summer's mid-afternoon. Even as I tried to shake it off, I couldn't, and now, how many years later...I STILL can't.

We were too little then to even KNOW about horror movies, had never seen one and didn't know they existed. I'd never seen ANYTHING like that before, and even the other terrors that sometimes awoke me at night weren't so awful as that particular dream.

Lead Us Not Into Temptation

A few days ago, I briefly read something that had to do with temptation; the fact that we must pass through it in order to overcome it, in order to grow in virtue.  And in passing through that temptation, it is as though we are being scorched, we are being damned, we are being tortured.  We can't see the end of it, but this is what makes it so important to pass through such a trial;  it is how we grow in virtue and learn to trust in God.

Mom could never explain this to me because the concept was too big, and really, most of us can't grasp this reality.

I know that even with all the education I've received in theology in the last couple years, I CONTINUE to pray that I be preserved from temptation.  It scares me for I am too weak, I too often given in, and my will has been trained over the years to give in to my passions.  So when I am tempted I scream and cry out to God to save me, he remains silent, and...I give in to my malformed will.

I get up each morning hoping to overcome, and yet, at the end of the day, find I have failed miserable, often through very direct acts against God.

Now, as an adult, I understand what it means to pray, "Lead us not into Temptation, but deliver us from evil."

As an adult, I know that Temptation is indeed a place, and while it is not Hell itself, it is the gateway, and as soon as we enter that crevasse, we realize that, in fact, they blend into one thing. NONE of us goes to Hell without giving into Temptation. None of us gets out of Temptation without passing through it. Temptation is a paradox.

A terrible, terrible paradox, yet one we must enter, we must survive, we must, through the grace of God, overcome.  No one becomes Holy without temptation.

So it seems that, in the spiritual life, we are at an impasse, aren't we?  Temptation is the gateway, and it is much scarier in appearance than it is in reality. Temptation itself is not a sin; it is only an INVITATION to sin, something calling to our passions.  That deathly knell can really seem like it must be obeyed, it can seem a lot more attractive than living holiness, can seem like it's not a big deal to give in to that one little passion....and yet, once we do...we might be cut of from God completely.

God never stops loving us. He is like the sun, which gives its rays, yet if we put a wall in front of it, that light can no longer pass through. The light does not stop in reality...it is actually that we have chosen not to let it in. We cut God off, refusing His Love, refusing His grace.

And there, in that eternal darkness, is Hell; eternal separation from God.

That's where Temptation leads.

Temptation is both pretty and dangerous and may come to us under both appearances, even while trying to make us believe it is something else.

But no, Temptation is indeed a place; it is the very doorway to damnation.

When confronted with it, when we are trapped there between Temptation and God, we need only take a step back, look upon the Cross, and let God love us.  Even if we can't see the end of the assault, we can gaze upon our Crucified Lord and know that, eventually, this temptation will end, and to get through it all we need to do is trust in Him.

Jesus will never let go. The question is...will we let go of HIM?

Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen.

Lead us not into Temptation, but deliver us from Evil.....Amen.

Spiritual Warfare

It's easy, when the sun is shining, to look at Jesus and say we will be faithful. It's easy, when the sun is shining, to look upon our Crucified Lord, and the Blessed Sacrament, there as we kneel comfortably at the Consecration, and say we will follow Him everywhere. It's easy to SAY we are willing to offer ourselves so completely, so sacrificially...at least, when nothing is being demanded of us.

But it's different in the darkest hours of the night, when we are alone, when we have awakened from a nightmare and find that the nightmare is perhaps only beginning. It's a different story when we are there, in that darkness, where the shadows have teeth and even the light of the flickering vigil candle isn't enough, for it seems to be guttering. There, in that nighttime abandonment it's easy to forget the promises made in comfort and sunlight.

When we are assailed by doubts, tormented by fears, and unable to face them, when the terrors of the night encroach upon our sleep and refuse to release us back to the blessed repose we so deeply need, and God seems so far away, it's easy to forget we OFFERED to take on suffering, and that spiritual warfare comes part and parcel with the territory.

It is in those moments, or hours, or days or weeks or years, when the Shadow of the Cross falls over us that we most want to flee back into the sunlight where we could find comfort. Yet we know we should go directly to the Cross and cling to it, taking refuge under the shadow of His wings and, oh, the irony! The irony of this flight, for it is ONLY because of the light of Christ that we can discern the shadow of the Cross from the shadows that gnash at us, seeking the destruction of our souls!

There is the folly and the glory of the Cross, once again, for we know we MUST pass through that shadow if we are ever able to enter into that eternal light. And still, we struggle, we scream, we want to flee, but...to whom can we go? And to what corner of the earth can we flee from the love of Christ?

When I am in the midst of such a struggle, I say to Jesus through my own folly, "Lord, I thought I could do this but I was wrong, let me go! I don't like this game and I don't want to play it any more!"

But Jesus is patient, and He is kind, but always, always firm in his chastizement. He bids me look at him, bleeding upon the Cross. "This isn't a game."

No, not a game. Salvation isn't a game or a sport or a frivolous pursuit.

When we do battle in those nightmarish hours of the night, or any time of the day, that is when our faith becomes tangible. Are we continuing to claim our love for Jesus when suddenly it's OUR blood falling upon the ground? When we experience some kind of abandonment, or the doubts and fears overwhelm us, and maybe temptations threaten, do we enter into prayer or do we give in? That is not to say that we don't experience sadness or fear or doubt, but in those times, do we give up on God completely or do we, in some way, continue to cling to His hand, reaching out for Him even if it "feels" like He's not there?

That's the battleground. That's where we are conformed to Christ, and it's not meant to be comfortable.

St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do thou O Prince of the Heavenly Host, cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits that prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.

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