Deliver Me From Temptation

We were schooled to think like angels: demons

Lay in wait around every corner. Our faith,

Forever in jeopardy, forever dependent on

The choices we chose, had to be

Unconditional. Left or right, hard or

Damn near next to impossible, it didn’t matter --

Once you crossed the line you crossed the line.

 

For a kid, the idea of free will always

Seemed a peculiar notion, figment of a peculiarly  

Unsound mind. A kin

To laying a trap in plain sight. Why,

If temptation was the Devil’s game,

Had God devised the greatest temptation

In the history of the universe?

 

The heavy handedness hardly seemed fair.

If we were meant to play by the rules, the game

Ought not to have been rigged.

The offer of a momentary pleasure shouldn’t have

Included the ill-proportioned risk of eternal damnation.

But it did. And we had a choice to make --

Once you crossed the line you crossed the line.

 

You accuse me of being evasive.

I won’t disagree, but then

I was schooled by an angel. God  

Sent to live among the fallen. And

Granted the gift of free will, I’ve chosen

The right to remain silent, cognizant

That having crossed the line I crossed the line --

 

That the act of contrition, tucking inside

The cone of a confessional, requires

A genuine mortification for the momentary lapse

Of good judgement, an admission

Of bad faith, that I can’t be trusted --

Which is true … though having crossed the line

I’d love to cross back.

Ken e Bujold 

Reviews

[Marie]

The Catholic Church ruled and controlled their flock not with love as Jesus taught, but through fear and the threat of hell's damnation for all eternity. Even as a child I never could believe how a God who was a father, who was supposed to love his 'children' could be continually watching/spying on the to slip up so he could condemn them to eternal fires forever. It made no sense to me. We made up 'sins' to tell the priest on our weekly trip to confession simply because we had done nothing wrong. Education has helped so many people find their true spiritual path in life. Our parents, bless them, did not have the same education as we had when they were growing up. Their education ended with sixth class, so they looked up to those who were educated and put them on pedestals which they never deserved to be put on. I went to school to teachers who were all nuns (religious sisters) from Junior Infants right up to Leaving Cert when I left secondary education and there was nothing kind or loving in them, they ruled with an iron hand. Instead of helping children who were poor, they looked down their haughty noses at them. They used a bamboo to beat us no matter what the misdemeanour and vented their frustrations on a daily basis. Saddened to see that in an all girls school, these same nuns are now accused of sexual assault going back so many years. I was never aware of it until I read it in the local paper. They have all passed away with the exception of two or three now. The Catholic Church was created for control of the masses, there was no freedom within it. Parents worked hand in hand with it and if we got slapped at school and told it to our parents when we came home, we would be slapped again at home for 'upsetting the teacher'...
The Catholic Church has much to answer for! I left it many years ago and for me, there is no going back to it, I was never truly part of it, I did my own thing. I walk a spiritual path in this lifetime and that is the path I will continue to walk.
Thank you for sharing this finely penned poem, Ken. I can't understand why, with all the knowledge you now have, you would want to return to organised religion again.
Sending brightest Blessings your way for a very blessed and wonderful day - enjoy!

[Ken e Bujold]

Thanks for review Marie. Reading the various reviews on this poem has been how shall we say, enlightening, but at the same time a little bit bemusing.
Yes, I was raised in the Catholic Church, which I left long ago. Whatever sense of injustice or anger I had towards it long ago dissipated. Most of my family are still firmly within the flock. We all learned eons ago, it is what it is.
This poem certainly starts off by examining the faith, or how it was instilled in us, and the process of rebellion towards it. The first 3 verses are very much a look back at the boy, teenager. It pivots though with the 4th verse, which seems to be giving people some difficulty.
V's 4&5 are not a straightforward continuation of the anti-faith. They are more about the cagey tap dance of a lover finding excuses for his inattention to what is needed in a relationship.
And the closing lines are simply an acknowledgment that having crossed the line of whatever sin one chooses to assign -- indifference, infidelity -- I (the narrative I, not personal I) would gladly cross back into the realm of what they've lost if forgiveness was available

ken

[Marie]

Most welcome, Ken. Thank you again for sharing...

[Lorry]

Reminds me of my neurotic Catholic guilt as a child. I don't know what age I was when I first went to confession, but found out a lot about life that day....One, it was like a weekly report card when you had to tell your penance to parents, who then checked with the priest and the second lesson learned was not to lie about your penance because they already knew you were up to no good.
Luckily though, some of it stuck with me and although I'd hardly be called a regular (I just go to the big matches these days, like Christmas and easter) but I still count my penance in how many our fathers and hello dollies I received (I always got hail Mary's and hello dolly's mixed up, which I still call them to this day)
Now, go in peace my child! 😃

[Gee]

Hmm, like many I too have crossed the line and in doing so enjoyed myself to the point where I have zig zagged my way through life. If there is such a thing as heaven and hell and the big fella upstairs is picky about who he lets in I could well be reaching for the factor 50 when my time is done, they say hell is awfully hot.
Good morning Ken, hope you are well

[W. Barrett Munn]

Having crossed the line and come back, I might have to cross it again.

[John the Baptist]

How else could you keep the people frightened and in the pack without the threat of eternal damnation? The priests knew what they were doing. Of course, no one talked about the altar boys.

[emmajoygreen]

What is done is done, imagined or real, the steps are rushed into being and before we know it.. is seemingly too late. But.. we are pon this plain to cross it, explore it, regret it.. but again discover that we are still alive and therefore, surely, able to right our might be wrongs whilst learning who we are.. why.. why not.

Your words seem regretful, but also confused,

', but then
I was schooled by an angel. God
Sent to live among the fallen. And
Granted the gift of free will, I’ve chosen
The right to remain silent, cognizant
That having crossed the line I crossed the line --'