Tag: alcoholics anonymous

Silkworth, Buchman & Bill

~ dwc ~ Leave a comment

Alcoholics Anonymous resulted from a combination of two historical trajectories.

One of these had to do with certain people at a certain time wrestling with the puzzle of a particular type of alcoholic. The best doctors, notably William Silkworth and Carl Jung had found their methods utterly ineffective for a certain type of drinker. Silkworth and Jung effectively said to Bill Wilson and Rowland Hazard – we’ve tried everything we know, and we can’t help you. Bill and Rowland were the type of alcoholic who drank even when they didn’t want to, even when they knew a great deal of accurate knowledge about their drinking experience.

To varying degrees, and with varying experiences, they would be overcome by what Silkworth called a physical ‘allergy’ to alcohol, which triggered a phenomenon of craving. One drink could usually trigger this. They also had a mental obsession, or a kind of blank spot, which meant all previous experience of suffering and humiliation and damage went out the window. The alcoholic ‘thinking’ that precedes, justifies, rationalizes or just throws in the towel just before the first drink.

Though such drinkers were often perfectly normal in other respects, being good men, successful businessmen, skilled physicians, etc., will power seemed to be non-operative with regard to alcohol. Their only hope, according to Silkworth and Jung, was what some called ‘vital spiritual experiences’, which had seen some of these types recover. But such miracles were rare and little understood. Alcoholics like Bill and Rowland were sent off looking for such a solution…

The second historical trajectory had to do with other people at another time seeking to get back to the basics of religion – in this case, Christianity. This trajectory in a sense goes all the way back to the dawn of humanity and all religious ideas, but in more practical terms it starts with the experience of Frank Buchman.

Buchman was a Lutheran minister who had started up a hospice for young men, and had grown so upset at the board over financial disagreements that he resigned. At the 1908 Keswick convention in England, a message preached by Jesse Penn-Lewis brought him face to face with his self-focused, self-justifying anger. He came to see that they had probably wronged him, but the main point for him was that he had gotten “so mixed in the wrong that I was the seventh wrong man.”

This foundational pivot, a perfect example of taking the log out of your own eye (Matthew 7:5), set Frank on a trajectory of founding the First Century Christian Fellowship, a movement seeing to embody a return to the original teachings of Christ, simple and practical. This fellowship, later known as the Oxford Group, had a particular affection for the Sermon on the Mount, the Lord’s Prayer, and the epistle of James. They were convinced that faith without works was useless, and that one must clear their blockages from God, be of service to others practically, and seek constant daily direction from God through prayer and meditation.

This movement, seeking to build Christianity down to it’s most vital elements, grew in effectiveness and size. Though they had no formal articulation of their process, through their four absolutes (Honesty, Unselfishness, Purity & Love), they saw the lives of many people with various struggles turned around, including many alcoholics. One in particular went by the name of Ebby Thatcher.

These two trajectories were made for one another, and would merge in the person of Bill Wilson.

Bill Wilson was one of those rare types of drinkers for whom there seemed no solution, save the rare spiritual kind. He was a friend of Ebby Thatcher, who had been dramatically sobered up through the Oxford Group. The story of Ebby sharing his experience with Bill is featured in chapter 1 of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, called ‘Bill’s Story’. At the time of the writing of the book, according to one of the foundational stories called ‘He Sold Himself Short’, the Oxford group had a sub-group of Alcoholics who seem to have tailored the Oxford process into a sequence of 6 steps, as used by Dr. Bob (the co-founder of A.A.):

1, Complete deflation.
2. Dependence and guidance from a Higher Power.
3. Moral inventory.
4. Confession.
5. Restitution.
6. Continued work with other alcoholics.

Bill and nearly a hundred other alcoholics adopted the Oxford process and formulated the 12 steps of AA as they are known now.

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol — that our lives had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

When you look at the steps, especially as they are explained in the AA Big Book, you can see that the first two steps encapsulate the wisdom of Dr Silkworth concerning the unique powerlessness and insanity of the alcoholic concerning alcohol. The rest of the programme seems clearly dependent on the process of the Oxford Group.

So there you have it.

Silkworth & Jung found that the alcoholic problem needed a spiritual solution
Frank/OG spread a spiritual solution that relieved all kinds of problems.
Bill and the early AA’s said yes – thank you.

tired? or just willful?

~ dwc ~ Leave a comment

There are different kinds of tired.

After a full day of hard physical work – I feel tired. Appropriate physical feelings after building a deck, assembling a sleepout, what-have-you.

After a hard workout, one feels the satisfying exhaustion of caring for their physical health.

There are other forms of tired that I have absolutely no expertise to comment on. I don’t know a thing about chronic fatigue syndrome or other conditions where people experience physical, emotional or mental tiredness for specific reasons – or unknown ones. I’d be horrified if any of those people read what follows and felt that any of it was naively directed at them.

The type of tiredness I am about to write about, however, is understood to be a quite common thing among humans. The best way to describe it is to quote from the AA Big Book. The quote I will share (a bit later below) comes from the very end of the chapter called ‘Into Action’. The author (chiefly Bill Wilson) has just finished laying out the first 11 of the 12 steps, saving the following chapter entirely for step 12.

That context is important, so let me give just a tad more detail. The preceding material covering steps 1-11 has identified “selfishness – self-centeredness” as the fundamental element of the “spiritual malady” that underlies alcohol (and other forms) of addiction. The spiritual malady, importantly, is not unique to addicts or alcoholics. When, long before the quote I will share below, the Big Book illustrates the problem of trying to live, selfishly, by self-will, it uses the (now infamous) metaphor of the “actor trying to run the whole show”. And it is careful to point out that this self will does not only manifest in obviously selfish behaviour, but (perhaps most tragically of all) when the actor is trying to be helpful, make the world a better place, protect people from harm, encourage people to vote the right way, preach or teach good values to people, or to otherwise make the show better. We are most willful when we are convinced we are right.

Crucially, it doesn’t say that the alcoholic alone is like this kind of actor, but rather it says “Most people try to live by self-propulsion.” (emphasis added)

Not just addicts. “Most people”.

Most of us, therefore, can relate to the problem of self-will, selfishness, and the spiritual malady. Most of us can relate, therefore, to the programme and solution offered in the form of surrender (steps 1-3), discovery of personal defects of character and partnering with God to remove them (steps 4-7), becoming a person who can admit their wrongs and make amends (steps 8-9), and continued improvement at humility, spirituality and service (steps 10-12).

So then, the quote I’m just about to share comes after the great sweep of steps 1-11, which have emphasized again and again the need to deal to the underlying self-will behind their spiritual malady. It is about what I’m going to call spiritual tiredness. It describes the transformative effect of freedom that comes when one does the simple spiritual work of steps 1-11.

We become much more efficient. We do not tire so easily, for we are not burning up energy foolishly as we did when we were trying to arrange life to suit ourselves.

Under the lash of the spiritual malady, we ‘burn up’ all kinds of energy in the foolishness of trying to control the world, politics, social justice. It’s not that it’s inappropriate to be involved actively in the world and do our part. This kind of spiritual tiredness results from trying to control, to manage (or micro-manage) others, to ‘run the whole show’.

It’s too much. It’s exhausting. And was never our job.

To finish on a very simple Christian and biblical note, the essence here is I think quite aligned with what Jesus offers when he says (my paraphrase / misquotation) “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened. Take my yoke upon you, and you will find rest for your souls. for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

When I let God be God, and focus on just doing the part that he has for me, I do not tire so easily. I don’t suffer from spiritual exhaustion. I can calmly, sanely, soberly and efficiently just do my part.

bad remorse?

~ dwc ~ Leave a comment

The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, gives incredibly simple, practical and transformative guidance for daily rhythms of prayer and meditation. Instructions are given for how to pray and meditate a) to start the day (“Upon awakening…”), b) during the day (“As we go through the day…), and c) as you finish the day (“When we retire at night…”). It’s brilliant stuff.

The advice on how to finish the day suggests we “constructively review” the day. This is very similar to the Examen prayer familiar to some Christians. It is, however, less generally focused on ‘where did I sense God’s grace today’ and more specifically inquisitive – asking us to look for when we may have been “resentful, selfish, dishonest or afraid” at any point. It leads us to bring this to God and ask for what we might do to correct this.

It then has some great advice about making sure this review is constructive rather than self-destructive. It says: “But we must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection…” Why not, you may ask? The advice continues and answers, “…for that would diminish our usefulness to others.” (p. 86)

When I’m obsessed about myself, even my own failures, I’m really no use to anyone.

The word ‘remorse’ jumps out at me. Isn’t ‘remorse’ a good thing for those who have done something wrong? What is meant by this guidance about avoiding ‘remorse’?

Dictionary.com has this helpful discussion of the Latin root for the word ‘remorse’:

In Latin, mordere means “to bite;” thus, remorse is something that “gnaws” at you over and over. In criminal court, judges are always looking for signs that a convicted felon is suffering remorse for his crime; if not, the judge may well lengthen his sentence or deny him parole after serving part of it. Remorse is stronger than mere regret; real remorse is the kind of thing that may last a lifetime.

The wisdom of the AA Big Book’s guidance becomes instantly clear. This kind of ‘remorse’ is far more than admitting, acknowledging and amending for past wrongs. It is a continual ‘biting’ of self that is hopelessly self-focused, self-pitying, self-obsessed, and ultimately self-destructive.

One final reflection on the judge and sentencing metaphor may be helpful.

It’s true that judges consider remorse as they weigh up appropriate sentencing. I think this is true socially as well. If a politician is caught doing something wrong and isn’t ‘remorseful’ enough, they are seen to be arrogant and not appropriately sorry, and likely to do the same thing again. Social discourse is quick to pounce on anyone who is not publicly and severely ashamed of themselves.

There can be an unintended dynamic that results from such understandable social judgmentalism. Wrongdoers know what is coming if their situation is to become known, and they anticipate and internalise the judgment upon themselves. They are quietly killing themselves even as they continue in the wrong. Another thing that can happen is that remorse can be performative. We perform remorse to assure our critics that we are sufficiently horrified at ourselves. But performative remorse is self-protective and not transformative.

The AA Big Book strikes a profound balance. Wrongdoing of any kind is to be weeded out with the utmost vigilance and humility. But such weeding must be ‘constructive’ and transformative. It is not about protecting oneself from public shame, or proving to them (or yourself) how sorry you are and demonstrating the high level of justifiable hate you have for yourself. Obsessing about how bad, stupid, foolish or wrong you were is really of no use to anyone.

What is of use to everyone, including ourselves, is simple, and far less dramatic and sensational. Admitting and seeking to amend your wrongs.

the human connection between anger & temptation

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The sermon on the mount is the best teaching on human living. It lays down the patterns for full and complete humanness. After the Beatitudes and opening statements, the first two issues that Jesus deals with are a) anger leading to murder, and b) lust leading to adultery. It won’t do to simply label murder and adultery as unlawful, immoral or wrong. Jesus knows we have to get to the heart of these matters and deal with our anger and lust.

The early chapters of Genesis are also profound in their statements about humanness. Every human is like Cain, who gets ‘very angry’ and is tempted into taking actions that violate the humanity of his ‘brother’. In chapter 6, we see the moral devolution of humanity is so degraded that the beautiful daughters of men were being treated like sexual property. The Creator is grieved to the point of being willing to uncreate the whole creation.

Anger and Sex are connected. We need not illustrate all the ways that this interrelation plays out through rape and pornography.

Their interrelation also shows up in another text that is likewise profoundly awake to the realities of human nature: The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, written by Bill Wilson. The Step 4 inventory (see chapter 5, ‘How it Works’) of ones own life invites an addict to reflect on a) Resentments, b) Fears, c) Sex conduct and d) Harm to others.

Anger and Fear can be understood as a natural pair, just as Sexual dysfunction and Harm can be. For example, consider Resentment and Fear. When I resent another person, I am looking down on them in judgement (perhaps sometimes justified judgement); and when I fear someone, I am looking up at them. When I process my resentments (and fears) properly, I discover that I need not look down on (or up at) others. I can look them in the eye as equals. This humane equality is a profoundly disturbing idea for someone whose identity is dependent on feeling superior to others.

The same is true for the Sex and Harm pairing. Healthy sexual relations is a mutually helpful matter of freely giving and freely receiving. Literally ‘intercourse’. Harm, by nature, including sexual harm, is the opposite of giving and receiving. Instead of giving it forces itself on someone. “You will have this whether you want it or not.” Instead of receiving it is taking. “I’ll take this whether you’re giving it or not.” It is violent and violating.

So therefore, according to Jesus, Moses and Bill, it seems to be a human reality that when we feel resentment towards someone who we feel has wronged us we sooner or later are tempted to some kind of violence or dysfunction.

This connection between anger and temptation, finally, is seen within The Lord’s Prayer, which is – not surprisingly – the humane prayer in the structural centre of the humanising Sermon on the Mount, preached by the one Christians see as the True Human. I am instructed to link my own forgiveness from my Father in heaven, with the forgiveness I am continually working at with others who have ‘transgressed against’ me. Immediately following (and linked to) this, is that I must be on guard against being led ‘into temptation’.

Whether our resentment is justified or irrational, political or personal, sharply focused or a foggy haze; we are reminded of an important moral human truth. The longer we allow anger to fester and burn the more tempted we can be to find our way into a fix, escape, or treat. This could be in the form of a verbal insult, a preachy self-righteous Facebook comment, some form of sexually energising daydream or exploration, or any other drug of choice (working late hours, over-eating, gambling, numbing myself with drink).

And so, the journey to full humanness must include humane prayers where we lay our vulnerability to anger and temptation before the Lord.

Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the Evil One.

Or, we might paraphrase…

Lord, help me to so savour your mercy towards me that I too flow with mercy towards others, especially those I am likely to point the finger of superior judgement towards, whose wrongs I feel the most burned up about. The ones who threaten me and interfere with how I think the world should run. Those who make my blood boil. The ones who, like me, do not deserve mercy.
And keep me far away from letting my anger drive me into some kind of tempting and ultimately self-serving power trip. Deliver me from the fleeting and temporary soothing ego trips of violence of any kind to myself or another.

Amen.

entirely devoted

~ dwc ~ Leave a comment

The King James version of 2 Chronicles 16:9 reads like this:

For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to shew himself strong in the behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward him.

It’s a famous little verse, wrapped in the middle of a critique that the prophet Hanani issues to king Asa for relying on human strength instead of divine strength. Asa had a heart problem.

But what about that little word ‘perfect’? What’s going on there? Does God require ‘perfection’ in matters like this, or in general? Why would someone with a perfect heart need God to be strong for them? Aren’t they already perfect?

We could rightly point out that this is not some kind of unattainable Greek, mathematical, mechanical ‘perfection’ that is in view here. It is instead the complete, total and absolute orientation to God. Like when an Olympic athlete, skilled woodworker, tailor or electrician puts aside all distractions and focuses ‘entirely’ on the difficult task they are doing.

There are three components to the verse: The searching eyes of the Lord, the state of human hearts, and the resulting strength from God. Other translations swap out the word ‘perfect’ for ‘fully committed’, ‘blameless’, ‘fully devoted’, ‘loyal’ or ‘completely his’.

Some things in life are a spectrum like a dimmer switch, and other things are either/or, like a on/off switch. When a carpenter strikes a nail with a hammer, they either hit it or they miss (note: a miss also includes hitting it wrongly and bending the nail!). Careful, diligent focus on the nail head is required for the nail to be driven. With that kind of ‘perfect’ focus, the power of the hammer can be effective.

So then, this is less about some kind of ‘make sure you’re good so that God will love you’ kind of moralism or legalism. This is about the spiritual law that there is no transformation without our participation.

The 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous touch on this principle in step 6: “(we) Were entirely ready to have God remove from us all these defects of character.” For God to do the removing of the defects (discovered through the inventory of step 4 and disclosed to God, self and another in step 5), I must be ‘entirely ready’; and my actions must show this. God moves mountains, but I must bring a shovel.

God’s power to protect or transform is never forced upon us. It is released when we position ourselves in alignment to God and his loving purposes for his world. As Augustine said, without God, we ‘cannot’. But God ‘will not’ without us.

from the bondage of self

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When an alcoholic is working the 12 steps using the guidance of the ‘Big Book’ of Alcoholics Anonymous, I am told that it is traditional to pray the “Third Step Prayer” found in Chapter 5 ‘How It Works’. Here is the full prayer:

“God, I offer myself to Thee—to build with me and to do with me as Thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do Thy will. Take away my difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of life. May I do Thy will always!’’

There is clearly much to appreciate about this prayer, but in this blog I want to do two things. First, I want to zero in on the significance of one line “Relieve me of the bondage of self”; and Second, I want to use the Lord’s Prayer to demonstrate how it is a prayer that asks the same thing.

The Self

The AA Big Book has a lot to say about an addictive focus on ‘self’. “Selfishness-self-centeredness! That, we think, is the root of our troubles. Driven by a hundred forms of fear, self-delusion, self-seeking, and self-pity, we step on the toes of our fellows…” (bold and italics not in original) It says “the alcoholic is an example of self-will run riot.” In one of the appendices, there is a quote from Dr. W. W. Bauer, who observes that helping other fellow alcoholics creates an atmosphere in which “the alcoholic often overcomes his excessive concentration upon himself.”

Modern psychologists may sometimes take issue with what could seem like a negative view of the self in such language. But if we are read these quotes as intended, we can see that it is not the self, as such, that is being critiqued, but the ‘excessive’ focus upon self. ‘Self’ is not the problem, but selfishness. The AA Big Book wants the alcoholic to see that even when trying to be ‘good’ their self-will is at play. Such is the description of the ‘actor’ trying to ‘run the whole show’: “Is he not really a self-seeker even when trying to be kind?”

This wisdom about a counter-productive self-focus is behind one of my favourite lines in the prayer: “Relieve me of the bondage of self.” Through the spiritual programme of action outline in the 12-steps, the alcoholic or addict is guided through a process by which their excessive focus on themselves is relieved by the aid of a Power greater than (who?) themselves.

The Lord’s Prayer

I’d now like to translate this wisdom into Christian key. Of course, it is well known that the Christian faith was the spiritual garden out of which the principles of AA were harvested. Frank Buchman, the Lutheran minister, had his transformational experience with resentment, which led to him establishing the ‘First Century Christian Fellowship’ later known as the ‘Oxford Group’, whose 6 principles were expanded into 12 steps by Bill Wilson and the early AA fellowship.

So, although, it is not needed to re-translate any of this back into Christian faith, it might at least be interesting or useful to show how the Lord’s Prayer relates to this line from the Third Step prayer (indeed the entire prayer!); particularly given that the early AA groups used to open or close their meetings with the Lord’s Prayer (and some still do).

  • Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.
    • Right from the start, my focus on self is violently interrupted by shifting and lifting my spiritual gaze off of my self and onto another. Not just any ‘other’, but the ultimate Other. Consider how the same shift can at least be somewhat attempted in the practice of someone who does not believe in any traditional Monotheistic God. Take a practitioner of yoga (which I am neither criticizing nor commending here). Through their practice of breathing, exercise, community and spiritual worldview, they also shift their focus from their individual self onto their body, the others they might be exercising with, and indeed the Universe. Stresses and difficult mental states are at least temporarily put aside as one focuses on higher and wider things than their self. Monotheism simply takes this as far as the logic can lead – to an ultimate Other, the un-caused Cause behind all causality, the One Creator of all things.
  • Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
    • In contrast to the self-will that wants to run the whole show of life, and aggressively or passive-aggressively trying to get others to do what we think they ought to do, this part of the prayer acknowledges that there are higher laws and higher wills and a higher order of things than mine. I do not need to, and indeed I cannot live well if I persist in trying to, play God. Even the agnostic can at least sense a comparable shift when they acknowledge the vast order of natural law in the Universe. We are but a small part in the whole. Monotheism simply recognises that this higher order is not the an order characterised by ‘blind, pitiless, indifference’ as Richard Dawkins famously wrote, but rather by a purposeful, creational and ‘kingly’ or royal will.
  • Give us this day our daily bread
    • One of the basic fears that a fragile self can have is around the fear of financial insecurity. We fear not being able to secure means for ourselves, and for those who may depend on us. Food security experts talk about the difference between a ‘scarcity’ or ‘abundance’ mindset. One can base their positive affirmation of abundance on factual appreciations of the wealth of resources available to us. This prayer just rests this confidence on the ground of a generous God.
  • And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
    • One of the most profound contributions of the AA Big Book is the focus on cleaning one’s own side of the street. We have many resentments against the wrongs others have done. Sometimes these resentments are essentially justified and we have truly been harmed. However, the wisdom here, is that even an innocent victim can get stuck in justified resentment. As the saying goes, “holding onto resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies.” I cannot change the other person who hurt me (in my case, as a young child). I can only focus on changing myself, particularly the ways that I nourish my sense of victimhood and keep the fires of resentment enflamed. Forgiveness, in this context, has nothing to do with absolving or excusing or minimising the harm done to me; nor should it keep me from taking any appropriate action to protect myself or others from present or future harm. It is simply ‘giving’ them up out of my death grip of judgment. The wisdom here is very challenging, because never does the self feel more righteous than when criticizing another for legitimate harms done (think of Israel or Hamas). Whatever forgiveness may do for the one who is forgiven, it is undeniably transformative for the one doing the forgiving.
  • And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the Evil One.
    • Here the prayer follows on directly from the previous line. Unforgiving and merciless criticism of another person, and most of all the victim mentality too often leads to various forms of verbal, physical or military retaliation or vengeance. For others, it could lead to various forms of escapism as we feel entitled to a mental or moral holiday. We’ve been harmed, mis-represented, ignored, abandoned, so “Screw ‘them’; they have it coming.” Or “Screw ‘it’, I’m going to numb out…” with food, work, sex, drink or self-harm. Such escalations or self-harm are named here as temptations driven by a force that is malevolent, destructive, anti-creational, counter-productive, distorting, enslaving and thus ‘Evil’.
  • For Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever, Amen.
    • My life, my future, my past and present; and the history and activities in the whole world, are all subsumed within a higher order that will be ‘just fine’. This is not the well-meaning distant dualism of hoping that ‘God is watching us… from a distance.’ It is the dogged, insistent hope in the reality of a loving Father who can sort out the baddies ‘out there’, and who is constantly and compassionately available to help me with my fearful and vulnerable badness ‘in here’. God is the one who provides, rules, understands, judges and heals. I need that every day.

So then,
Father of all Creation,
today and every day,
relieve me of the bondage of self.
Make me a vessel of reconciling love
to some of your children today.
Amen.

many times each day

~ dwc ~ Leave a comment

Praying regularly is the best way to perfect and improve one’s spiritual life.
We learn to pray properly by praying less than properly.

The timing and frequency of our prayers will vary from person to person.
There is no ‘perfect rhythm’ of prayer.

Popular Christian piety suggests a daily prayer, also called a ‘quiet time’.
Some Christian traditions practice twice-daily prayers: ‘matins’ and ‘vespers’ (or morning and evening prayer); and many Buddhists do morning and evening chants.
Islam requires adherents to pray five times a day.
Cistercian monks pray seven times a day; outdone by Benedictine monks with eight prayer hours.

Praying once, twice, five, seven or eight times a day is great…

But I just don’t think that is enough, at least for me…
(A good Christian, Buddhist, Muslim or Monk will agree.)

I have to keep praying ‘unceasing’ prayers, processing life with God as it happens.

Recovering alcoholics who are working a programme from the guidance of the AA Big Book will heed the following advice for spiritually navigating a day:

“As we go through the day we pause, when agitated or doubtful, and ask for the right thought or action. We constantly remind ourselves we are no longer running the show, humbling saying to ourselves [in truth, it is a prayer that is said to God!] many times each day ‘Thy will be done.’ ” (AA Big Book, 87-88)

This practice, conceived by people famous for their struggles, best echoes the admonition of St Paul, who wrote that the will of God for us is to “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances” (1 Thessalonians 5:16).

Because of the simultaneous fragility and dominance of my ego, I have to pray.
All the time.

the sneaky allure of selfishness

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I’m a prayer guy, and I’m a fan of 12-step spirituality.

So one of the resources I use for prayer is the guidance offered in the AA Big Book for step 11.

It suggests some patterns of meditation and prayer “upon awakening”. Here’s the first bit of advice…

“On awakening let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead. We consider our plans for the day. Before we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking, especially asking that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives.”

AA Big Book, page 86

I am in awe of how practical this advice is. If I’m not directed by God, I will eventually (or immediately!) drift into spiritually unhelpful ways of thinking about my day. It mentions three huge categories of bad day-planning: “self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives.”

In my insecurity, I can lapse into the self-pity of imagining how certain situations may not go my way, or dreading the experience today of the effects of having been wronged yesterday.

In my self-protecting fear, I can drift into dishonesty, looking at the day ahead with a distorted lens that lies to myself by exaggerating the good that I think I might do, or minimising the mistakes I may make.

In my grandiosity (itself a product of insecurity), I can wade into the waters of imagining how impressively I might perform in this or that situation.

Later on in these couple of pages of advice, the AA big book has a strong suggestion around making our prayers that are oriented to being useful to others.

We ask especially for freedom from self-will, and are careful to make no request for ourselves only. We may ask for ourselves, however, if others will be helped. We are careful never to pray for our own selfish ends. Many of us have wasted a lot of time doing that and it doesn’t work. You can easily see why.

AA Big Book, page 87

I don’t think it is theologically wrong to pray for ourselves, of course. But it is not hard to see the wisdom of this advice. Our thinking about the day, and our ways of going about the day itself, are quickly distorted by self-focused motives. Heck, I can find myself drifting into worry, fear or self-protecting resentment even during a time of prayer itself!

The advice here is to always remember our priority of being useful to others. That is damned good advice.

potential & real sinners

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I’m not an alcoholic.
But… I’m a real fan of the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous.

The forward to The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (a.k.a. the 12×12) acknowledges that the contents of that book (and AA wisdom more generally) “might arouse interest and find application outside of A.A. itself.” Non-alcoholics who practice the 12 steps report that “they have been able to meet other difficulties of life.” The steps can be “a way to happy and effective living”, regardless of whether one is an alcoholic or not.

drinkers and ‘real alcoholics’

As I look through the AA Big Book and the 12×12 I’m fascinated by a particular distinction made between the “moderate drinker”, the “hard drinker” and the “real alcoholic”. It’s worth quoting directly from the Big Book:

Moderate drinkers have little trouble in giving up liquor entirely if they have good reason for it. They can take it or leave it alone.

Then we have a certain type of hard drinker. He may have the habit badly enough to gradually impair him physically and mentally. It may cause him to die a few years before his time. If a sufficiently strong reason—ill health, falling in love, change of environment, or the warning of a doctor—becomes operative, this man can also stop or moderate, although he may find it difficult and troublesome and may even need medical attention.

But what about the real alcoholic? He may start off as a moderate drinker; he may or may not become a continuous hard drinker; but at some stage of his drinking career he begins to lose all control of his liquor consumption, once he starts to drink.

AA Big Book, 20-21

Note the role of reason in restricting the moderate and hard drinker. Merely “good” reason can regulate the moderate drinker, while it takes “sufficiently strong reason” to stop the hard drinker. Both of them can be stopped with reason. Not so with the real alcoholic. The real alcoholic is immune to all reasons to not drink. Sooner or later, regardless of intermittent and temporary experiences of imagined control, it becomes clear even to them that they cannot stop once they start.

What does this have to do with the interest that people like me, who (as far as they know) are not alcoholics, but who find the Steps and the wisdom of AA useful for living? More specifically still, what does it have to do with a Christian focus on kingdom living?

The connection lies in properly understanding the relationship between addiction and sin.

addiction and sin

There are differences between the two. AA suggests not all people are ‘real alcoholics’ as referred to above. Meanwhile, Christianity contends that all are sinners.

But there are similarities.

The sharp distinction AA makes between alcoholics and non-alcoholics does not mean that no common patterns exist when it comes to the human consumption of alcohol. You don’t have to be a ‘real alcoholic’ to really get into real trouble with alcohol. In fact, Part II of the AA Big Book entirely contains stories of “actual or potential alcoholics” who became convinced that “compulsive alcoholism already had them”. They didn’t want alcoholism to progress like cancer to the state of being “malignant… before seeking help.” They “didn’t want to hit bottom because, thank God, we could see the bottom. Actually, the bottom came up and hit us”

Meanwhile, with sin, the fact that Christianity places all of humanity in one sinful boat does not mean that everyone experiences sinfulness in exactly the same way all the time. Some people can see their sin and then repent almost immediately. (This is certainly the recommended strategy for life!) Others struggle with it for a while, experience some mild consequences, and then turn around. Others still, like the lost son in Luke 15, waste their whole inheritance and find their entire lives ruined. In the Christian understanding, sin can grow and develop to the point where it becomes addiction. Repeated behaviour (for good or for ill) becomes habitual, ritualistic, automatic and second nature. The wisest path is to “see the bottom” before you hit it. See the destruction that sin can cause and turn around. Seek God’s love and spirit and kingdom.

So then… the parallels are clear.

I am not any kind of alcoholic (that I know of? yet!?), but I know I am not only a potential sinner, but a real one. Just like an alcoholic needs to work a program or die, so also I need to pursue a live of prayer and service or I’ll wreck my life. I need to pursue the grace and spirit and strength of God, just like a “real alcoholic” must seek escape from alcoholism “with all the desperation of drowning men.”