THROUGH UNTRUE
Every day we experience temptation. We are tempted to lie when the truth is inconvenient. We are tempted to commit our favorite sins, to curse, nurture resentment, waste time online, indulge our lower appetites, avoid discipline, and neglect prayer.
But no need to panic. Temptation, in itself, is not a sin. Today’s Gospel reading tells us that after His baptism, the Holy Spirit led Jesus into the desert, where He was tempted by the devil three times (Matthew 4:1–11). Yet, as the Letter to the Hebrews assures us, Jesus was “tempted in every way, yet He did not commit sin” (Hebrews 4:15).
Temptation becomes sin only when we give in to it. The crucial question, then, is why, despite our best efforts, we yield to temptation.
First, let us be honest: we often provoke it ourselves. Yes, the devil still tempts us, as he did Jesus, attacking Him where He appeared most vulnerable. But today, we have mastered this strategy so well that the devil almost seems redundant. We know our weaknesses, so we tempt ourselves precisely in those areas. Technology, consumerism, and social media help us in doing this. They do better than the devil in producing arguments to justify our wrongdoing.
Second, we often convince ourselves that no one will ever know. The truth is, even if no one else knows, we know. After all, we were the ones who decided to commit sin. Pretending not to know the truth and silencing our conscience only weakens our integrity. Worse still, when we get used to feigning ignorance, we blame others once we are exposed. This is exactly what happened to our first parents: Adam blamed Eve, and Eve blamed the serpent. Poor serpent, it had no one left to blame.
Third, we give in to temptation because it presents sin as attractive and pleasurable. It promises immediate gratification while concealing long-term consequences. Temptation whispers, “Doing this once won’t hurt you.” But “once” easily becomes twice, until a vice is formed that later evolves into addiction. When we become addicts, we rationalize by saying, “This cannot be wrong because it feels so right.” But enjoyment is not a reliable moral compass. Poison can also taste sweet.
Finally, we fall because we absolutize our freedom. We insist, “This is my life. I know what is best for me.” Any dissenting voice, whether from conscience, a friend, or family, is dismissed as an attack on our personality and autonomy. Thus, we live in denial and regard sin not as a moral failure but as proof of our courage to assert our “authentic self.” As one song puts it, “I can’t help it. I was born this way.” The trouble with this reasoning is that it damages not only our character but also our Christian witnessing. The evil we normalize in our own lives, we legitimize for others.
So how do we stop yielding to temptation? Perhaps the most decisive way is simply to say no. Yet anyone who has struggled with a persistent weakness knows that it is difficult to do this because saying no might deprive us of the pleasures we think we deserve.
Actually, by refusing to yield to temptation, we declare that we cherish long-term benefits over short-term satisfaction, and that we value character over convenience. Each sincere no to temptation is a resounding yes to our deepest identity as beings created in God’s image. If we can rationalize wrongdoing, we can also envision virtue. If we can abuse and misuse our freedom and intelligence to commit sin, we can properly use them to live upright lives.
And let us not forget that we are not alone in this struggle. God’s grace does not make the battle easy, but it strengthens our will. As St. Paul wrote, “God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond your strength. When He allows you to be tempted, He also provides a way so that you can endure and overcome it” (1 Corinthians 10:13).