Father Brendan O’Reilly spent his time in solitary confinement after the baptism . He avoided all female contact, even the housekeepers . His only companion was the book of Psalms, which he read over and over again, looking for guidance, an answer to a prayer, no, not a prayer, an overwhelming erectile problem . Could it be that he had made a mistake . Perhaps he was not suited for the priesthood at all . Did Christ suffer similar temptations? Had he succumbed? The Bible did not say . How much was missing? How much do we really know? The more Brendan read the deeper became his despair . Perspiration started to bead on his forehead, he felt uncomfortably hot . His heart began to race, his breathing became laboured . He felt powerless and then with supreme effort he recited in a whisper the Lord’s Prayer and all became still once more . His mind became quiet . His animal nature subsided . Lust, lust, lust, that’s all it is, he reflected . I must learn to control it . No more weakness, I am strong, I am in control of my body, no one else . He sat motionless in an almost hypnotic state and then his internal clock summoned him . Brendan stood up to his full 182 cms, stretched upwards as though he was reaching for heaven and maintained a strong erect posture, a picture of confidence and strength . He marched into the Monsignor’s office and collected the parish hall’s keys and proceeded to the old gothic styled multipurpose building called the parish hall . Several elderly people were eagerly awaiting his arrival . Upon seeing him, they stood up and gingerly greeted him . “Father Brendan O’Reilly?” They said in unison .