On Alcoholics Anonymous
“When we became alcoholics, crushed by a self-imposed crisis we could not postpone or evade, we had to fearlessly face the proposition that either God is everything or else He is nothing. God either is, or He isn’t.” —The Big Book, AA
First snowfall in Big Sky, MT — a cozy morning to write and reflect
Earlier this summer, at a time when I had recently moved to a new state and was looking for community, I saw a posting in a church bulletin advertising a meeting series for those seeking to heal. Naturally, I went.
One week later I was sitting in the church basement. I had arrived several minutes late, in the middle of introductions, and it was at that point I realized I was at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.
The teacher concluded with her own introduction. She warmly explained that while the group was structured around The Big Book, and catered to those in recovery, it was open to anyone looking to heal.
In the end, it was one of the best oversights I’ve ever had.
I loved those Monday night meetings. I still think back to them and the stories of the people who attended. I have never witnessed the resilience of the human spirit as much as I did in that basement.
When I reflect on what inspired me most, it is captured best in the quote above: “When we became alcoholics, crushed by a self-imposed crisis we could not postpone or evade, we had to fearlessly face the proposition that either God is everything or else He is nothing. God either is, or He isn’t.”
Now, I am quite familiar with this idea from a religious perspective. It is often attributed to CS Lewis who famously came to realize, “Christianity, if false, is of no importance, and if true, of infinite importance. The only thing it cannot be is moderately important.”
Or my favorite version from Abraham Heschel: “God is either of no importance, or supreme importance.”
This idea is timely in our modern culture that treats God moderately, on an as-needed basis, or as one part of a balanced life, which simply cannot be. Either he is our everything or he is nothing.
Being raised in a religious household, I knew this idea well. It was communicated in the same way all faith is passed down from generation to generation: sometimes spoken directly, but more often conveyed in other ways – through childhood immersion in song, tradition, giving, and fellowship.
From my Christian upbringing, the idea often came in the form that either Jesus is who he says he was, the Son of God, or he was a liar – there is no in between.
Despite having known this my whole life, I realized I never knew this. I certainly still don’t. But AA helped me come one step closer (11 more to go).
Now I see, through the stories of the group members, that those with alcoholism – and especially those who have recovered from alcoholism – know this well. They know that either God is everything, or he is nothing because they had to know it. Either he is the all-knowing, all-powerful creator of the universe, whose wisdom and power surpasses ours, or he is not.
They reached a point where their addiction was stronger than they were and they were faced with no option but to fully – fully, meaning with their very lives – rely on God.
To me, this explains why alcoholics are typically ahead of the rest of us in their walks with God, because they have to be. They confront the ultimate choice: either rely on God, or die. The biblical story of God and man is after all, a story of reliance.
The thing is, we all have addictions. Unfortunately most of our addictions are more subtle and socially acceptable. Alcoholism is visible. It reaches a point where it can’t be kept secret and affects everyone around them. Not so for most of our vices.
What are we addicted to? Like alcohol, it could be tangible – drugs, pornography, food, videogames. Or it could be more subtle, and even admired by society: the love of money and accumulating more, the sense of self-worth we get from our relationships, the proving of ourselves through achievements and building a good reputation.
Or maybe it’s our independence, our ability to not rely on anyone. Whatever it is, anything that stands in the way of our reliance on God is tearing us apart in the same, albeit slower, way that alcohol is to an alcoholic.
Again, In this sense, the alcoholic has a leg up because once they recover, they see the pattern. They now know that the only way to live is to rely on God. Their overt, socially taboo addiction was brought to light and healed.
Maybe we should hold AA meetings for non-alcoholics to recover from our covert, socially acceptable addictions. One day – no different from an alcoholic – we all make the choice to either rely on God, or die. The day might occur later down life’s road for most of us, but it will occur. No one can serve two masters (Matt 6:24).
What will we choose? I waver between eager anticipation and downright dread for the moment the ultimatum reaches me. I hope when the day comes I stand firm by relying on Jesus’s righteousness over my own.
In the meantime, I have the opportunity to do this – to die to self and rely on God – in smaller ways everyday. Even in the small ways I often fail. But where I fail in my part of the covenant, God already fulfilled.
It is from that starting point I can step forward in the paradox of humble confidence, and simply stand in awe of his love for me.
At Columbus Naturopathic Medicine, we provide faith-based care to help you experience God’s design for meaning, purpose, and connection. If you are interested in working with Dr. Leah Gusching, you can learn more and schedule an appointment by clicking the link below.