By Randall Smith
A few years ago there was a small stir around the phrase in the Lord’s Prayer: “Do not let us fall into temptation.” It was suggested that the expression be changed to “do not allow us to fall into temptation,” on the grounds that the original wording wrongly implies that God pushes people into sin, when in reality it is the devil who tempts. It is certainly true that God does not lead us into sin, but I think the complaint overlooks a grammatical point. It is fine to pray: “Do not let us fall into temptation,” but I do not simply want God to “not let me fall”: I want Him to guide me away.
Consider this image. You see across the room a beautiful and sensual woman, dressed provocatively. You could walk toward her and become more deeply tempted. Or you could turn around and walk away. I think it is time to pray: Lord, do not lead me toward —take me out of, draw me away from— temptation. It would be foolish to pray: “Lord, lead me into a grave temptation, so that I may see if I am able to resist it.” It is much better, simply, to step aside and walk away.
I knew a man who participated in group sessions on “anger management.” While listening to accounts of how various people had lost control, he would say to himself as each story progressed through the sequence of events leading up to the explosion: “Just walk away; just walk away.” But they had not done so.
The problem is that, in some cases, that can be difficult. It is not something one would do “naturally” on one’s own. So a little outside help may be necessary.
There is a very funny scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, where the ostensibly pure and noble Sir Galahad finds himself in a castle full of women who tempt him sexually. At that moment, Sir Lancelot and a group of knights burst in to “save him”:
LANCELOT: We arrived just in time; you were in great danger.
GALAHAD: I don’t think I was.
LANCELOT: Yes, you were; you were in terrible danger.
GALAHAD: Listen, let me go back in there and face the danger.
LANCELOT: No, it’s too dangerous.
GALAHAD: Listen, I’m a knight; I’m supposed to face all the danger I can.
LANCELOT: No, we have to find the Holy Grail. Come on!
GALAHAD: Well, will you let me have just a little bit of danger?
LANCELOT: No, it’s unhealthy.
This is what often happens with temptation. Even the great St. Augustine recounts that in his youth he prayed: “Lord, give me chastity and continence… but not yet.” The Lord’s Prayer contains the admission that there are certain things that tempt me, to which is added the petition: “Lord, draw me away from them!” Sometimes, we need firm and serious help to begin moving in the opposite direction from the one we are willing to follow.
But there is more. “Do not let us fall into temptation” comes immediately after the petition: “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” A common temptation is to allow those who have offended us to “live rent-free in our minds.” We say we forgive, but the offense may still live on in our hearts and in our thoughts.
Sometimes that offense “lives on” in the form of resentment toward the person who harmed us. But other times, even though we have indeed forgiven, it may still “live on” in the form of fear that those aggressions will be repeated again and again, or in the form of fantasies about how we would react and bravely defend ourselves against such offenses in the future.
This too is a grave temptation: the temptation not to let the past stay in the past and instead to allow it to continue dwelling in you. That is why we pray: Lord, allow me to forgive the offenses of others in the same way You forgave mine. And do not let the residual effects of those offenses live on in me. Something bad happened, there is no denying it. But, oh Lord, do not let that lead me into the temptation to do evil to others or to become cold, arrogant, or resentful.
Temptation is simply a part of life. We all have desires. What kind of miserable and soulless life would it be if we had no desires? The problem is that we may desire the wrong things, or desire good things in the wrong way.
I see a piece of delicious, thick chocolate cake in the window of a bakery, and I want to eat it whole. I don’t know if Satan wants me to desire that. It seems to me that the deliciousness of the cake is explanation enough. But have you never looked at something so rich and said to your friends (even if only as a joke): “Lord, do not let us fall into temptation!”? You might even add: “Deliver us from evil.”
But it is not that the chocolate cake is in itself “evil.” It is one of God’s great gifts to humanity. However, at this moment and in this circumstance, I need to turn around and walk away. And that is why you ask for God’s help.
I suppose you could say: “Do not allow me to fall into temptation,” but in many cases: a) it is already too late, the temptation is right there in front of you, staring you in the face; and b) it is not a matter of “falling” into it. I am already there. What I need is to be dragged away by the force of God’s right arm. That is why I prefer: “Do not let us fall into temptation. Deliver us from evil.”
Though perhaps that is just my own opinion.
About the author
Randall Smith holds the Monsignor J. Michael Miller Chair in Theology at the University of St. Thomas in Houston. His books include “St. Bonaventure’s Journey of the Soul to God: Context and Commentary,” “From Here to Eternity: Reflections on Death, Immortality, and the Resurrection of the Body,” “Aquinas, Bonaventure, and the Scholastic Culture of Medieval Paris: Preaching, Prologues, and Biblical Commentary,” and “Reading the Sermons of Thomas Aquinas: A Beginner’s Guide.” His forthcoming book, “Mapping Bonaventure’s Itinerary: Context and Commentary,” will be published by Emmaus Press this summer. His articles can be found at: http://t4.stthom.edu/users/smith/portfolio/