The two petitions that conclude the “Our Father” prayer form a single sentence. “And lead us not into temptation” is inseparable from “but deliver us from evil,” according to faith as well as grammar. And just as the word “temptation” needed to be mined for deeper insights, so too does the word “evil.”
As Catholics, how should we imagine our relationship with the world? We often talk about “walls” and “doors” and “bridges” to explain how the Church should either connect to the world for the sake of evangelizing it or separate herself from the world for the sake of remaining faithful to God.
In the journey of life, problems, storms, and worries are inevitable. Sometimes we encounter trials that shake our foundations, moments when our faith is tested, or seasons when our hope seems distant.
In the last decade, the liturgical versions of the Our Father have been changed in both French and Italian to soften the apparent harshness of this petition. The French translation is now “Ne nous laisse pas entrer en tentation,” “Do not let us enter into temptation,” and the Italian runs “Non abbandonarci alla tentazione,” “Do not abandon us to temptation.”
Rod Dreher’s “The Benedict Option” (2017) has been on my list of things to read for a long time. As a Cistercian monk rooted in the Benedictine tradition and apostolically engaged as a priest and teacher, I basically felt like it was required reading, given how often people refer to it.
As the fall season approaches each year, many of our parishes begin preparing to bring their communities together in joyful celebrations. Some call these gatherings “parish festivals,” while others prefer the name “carnivals.” Whatever we choose to call them, these celebrations are far more than just events on a calendar. They are living reminders of our fellowship with Christ and with one another as a community of believers.
If I were a prospective elementary school parent, the first question I would ask a principal or teacher would be: What is your mission?
This petition is the most scandalous of them all. The verb tenses reveal the heart of the matter.
I recently read a book about discernment and the spiritual life that I’d recommend to just about anyone but especially to the young: Stacey Sumereau, “Adventure Awaits: How to Interpret Your Desires and Hear God’s Voice” (Ave Maria Press, 2025). It is short and divided into bite-sized sections filled with stories, explanations, and spiritual exercises. It is written in a friendly style and rooted in Catholic faith.
In Mark 4:35, just before the calming of the storm at sea, Jesus said to his disciples, “Let us cross to the other side.” They boarded a boat, and it was during this crossing that a violent storm arose, with heavy waves threatening to overwhelm them. It was there, in the midst of the storm, that Jesus calmed the sea.
My ideal translation of this phrase would be “Give us our ‘supersubstantial’ bread today.” That would sound gloriously awkward at Mass, and ‘supersubstantial’ would be a liturgical tongue twister for children trying to say the word quickly five times in a row. That translation, though, grants immediate access to the mystery at work in the first petition of the Our Father prayer.