If Thy Hand Offend Thee

by Allen Baker

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned." Sean O'Brien had hurried to the confessional at Saint Joseph's that Friday afternoon and nearly slammed the door behind him in his haste. The eighteen-year-old boy knelt in the darkness, eager to purge himself of his week's transgressions.

"How long since your last confession, my son?"

"One week."

"Confess your sin, my son."

"The priesthood, Father. To be a priest like yourself. That is my only goal. I've always wanted to be a priest. It's my passion."

"This is a holy pursuit. Where is the sin in this, my son?"

"But I'm not pure. Not pure enough. Each day, I vow to keep myself pure, but fail. Many times a day I have impure thoughts."

"Priests are human, my son. Humans have impure thoughts. Try to resist them, replace them with holy thoughts. God is merciful and will help."

"That's just it, Father. I try. But all too often I give in to them."

"Give in?"

"I jack . . . um, I masturbate."

"I see."

"Often."

"Umh?"

"At least six or eight times a day. I try not to. Even when I start, I try to stop. But it just feels too good. When I wrap my hand onto . . . "

"I don't need to hear the details, my son."

"Sorry, Father. At any rate, I fail and sin many times every day. I want to change, to be good, Father. Please, tell me how."

"My son, God has made you a human with human urges. This is natural. But to your credit, you aspire to rise above these base desires and to serve Him in holy priesthood. Trust in God and pray. Now, as to your penance, . . . "

* * * * *

The middle of the next week, the priest again heard Sean's voice in from the other side of the confessional booth. It shook with emotion and was near to being overshadowed by tears.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. Pleasuring myself was a bad enough sin, but now it is obvious that I don't truly love God enough. That I don't trust Him enough, pray enough, to have Him take this burden from me. I read the Bible and pray. But nothing helps. In the middle of the night, I wake up with my hand already stroking my hard . . . Sorry, Father. Anyway, I found the verse in Mark 9 that states, ‘If thy hand offend thee, cast it off.' So I decided to tie my hands to the headboard at night so they wouldn't betray me. But it isn't my hand that's the culprit. It's just an accomplice. A means to an end. But my body just finds other means. The last two nights, I've awakened to find my hips grinding my crotch into the mattress, just as I create a sticky mess in my pajamas. So, you see, Father, even my hips aren't to blame. It's my, well, crotch, that's the source of all my shame. Even now, as I sit here in the darkness, talking about my evil ways, my crotch remembers the pleasure it feels at those times and is lengthening and crying out to be stroked. Even without touching my cock, I'm about to explode in my drawers. Oh, Father, what am I to do?"

"My son, you are too hard on yourself. Yes, you are a victim or your hormones, just like every other young man throughout history. But time is on your side. These adolescent years are the most tumultuous. Ride them out and remain faithful. If it is God's will for you to enter His priesthood, He will wait for you. Don't despair. Just continue being faithful, and God will show you a way to overcome this preoccupation with sex. Continue to study his Holy Word, and God will speak to you. He will show you the way."

* * * * *

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been weeks since my last confession, but I have been incapacitated and only this hour have regained the strength to venture from my bed."

"Then I am glad you made God's house your priority. Confess your sins."

"Though it has been long, they have been few. Father, you are wise. You advised me to read the scriptures and allow for His holy guidance. You were right. I have studied and prayed, and He has answered my prayers. He revealed the true meaning of His Word. I have followed the Bible's instructions and am now at peace."

"Bless you, my son. Please share with me which new verse of God's teaching has eased your troubled spirit."

"No new verse, Father. Only a revelation of the meaning of the one I had previously misinterpreted. ‘If thy hand offend thee, cut it off.' All along God was showing me the way, but I had been too thick headed to understand."

"Yes?"

"As I said before, it really was not my hand that offended. Oh, Father, late one night two weeks ago, I again gave in to temptation and pleasured myself. Immediately after I climaxed, great remorse overcame me, and I fell into near hysterical weeping. I sobbed into my pillow and begged for God's help.

"Suddenly, I understood that verse. It was my balls that offended. They produced the desire, the need to jack off. Immediately I was calm. At last, I knew what to do with my problem. I collected what I needed and locked myself in the bathroom.

"First, I used some heavy cord to tie my balls very tightly just below my penis. Then I braced myself for the pain, knowing that sacrificing for God would not prevent suffering. Then I used dad's razorblade utility knife to separate those offending orbs from my body forever. The pain was excruciating, but I was giddy with relief. At last, I was free from corruption of the flesh!

"I used the needle and thread from mom's sewing kit to close up the opening. Then I bandaged myself so that I wouldn't soak into the bed sheets. Before I left the bathroom, I dropped those offending nuts into the commode and flushed them out of my life forever."

The priest groaned at the enormity of the boys actions. "Oh, my poor boy. I fear you have been misled by your interpretation of those words."

"Oh, I know, Father. You can't imagine my dismay the next day when I woke with my usual morning erection. I cried in despair. But that didn't stop me from beating off, . . . er masturbating. There was blood in my cum when I climaxed, but it still felt wonderful and I was miserable.

"Anyway, all day I kept having my usual erections, my all-too-human urges. I kept telling myself that maybe my body was just needing time to adjust. But when I was still having erections three days later, I knew I had been wrong about the Bible verse. At least partly.

"That night I again went to the bathroom after everyone else in the house had gone to sleep. This time, I knew I was right in what God expected. I sat on the commode and stoutly tied off my cock with the cord. I watched it turn red then purple, as I sat on the commode waiting for some amount of numbness to set in. Finally, I could wait no more. I quickly severed it with the utility knife, letting it drop into the water below me. Then I sewed up the wound. But this time, I bled more and needed to keep replacing the bandages. And I was much weaker and in too much pain to do more than clean up the bathroom and inch back to my room.

"I stayed in bed the next morning and told my parents I thought I had a touch of the flu. Mom wanted me to go to the doctor about the third day, but I told her I was feeling ok, but just worn out and week from the vomiting. She left me alone.

"But best of all, Father, you were right! God's scriptures showed me the way. I have made myself a eunuch, and I'm no longer plagued by impure thoughts. My body no longer tempts me into corruption. I can now ready myself for the priesthood without crass distractions. Bless me, Father, for I have confessed my sins."