TRE TABaET, Vol.
249, 104-107, January 28, 1995
By Ruth Gledhill
A devil sits on the shoulder of an alcoholic, and it is very hard to remove. No
method has been more successful than that adopted by the fellowship known as
Alcoholics Anonymous. When the principles on which A.A. rests are examined, as
here by the religion correspondent of The Times, a theology emerges.
l ******
As the millennium approaches, all journalists, myself included, are planning
ahead for the respective inventories which we must soon make of the most
significant developments in our fields of study. In the spiritual as opposed to
the material world, but with an inestimable impact on both, the foundation of
Alcoholics Anonymous in Akron, Ohio, in 1935 must head or come near the top of
the list. Anyone looking for signs of immanent apocalypse in the twentieth
century need only consider the devastation wreaked on a daily basis in millions
of lives by the obsessive illnesses of alcoholism and addiction. For
corresponding evidence of the saving grace of God in our world, we could then
turn to the development of the Twelve Steps of A.A. by the fellowships founders,
Bob S, an Akron surgeon, and Bill W, a New York stockbroker.
To an outsider, these steps can at first seem anachronistic, exclusive,
simplistic and impossibly agnostic, not to say illogical. Nevertheless, in spite
of considerable initial scepticism, four years in religious journalism have
convinced me that they have something vital to offer , not to alcoholics alone but
to anyone in the grip of an obsession. Few of us can claim complete freedom from
obsessive behavior, whether the focus be an addictive substance, a man or a
woman, work, leisure, exercise, food or even laziness. Only an individual can
decide when a healthy commitment to or dependence upon a person or activity,
which entails a fundamental act of trust, crosses the narrow line into obsession,
the antithesis of trust; but not for nothing does the Shorter English Dictionary
define obsession as actuation by the devil or an evil spirit from without." In my
work as a religious affairs journalist, I am encountering increasing numbers of
people, many of them non-alcoholics , who are using the Twelve Steps as spiritual
as meditative guides, in conjunction with the allied spiritual literature
published by America's Hazelden organisation and others with a rock-bottom
interest in the elusive process known as "recovery."
In the Twelve Steps, the word "God" appears four times, the word "alcohol"
once. Anyone familiar with the stories of Job, Jeremiah, Isaiah, the concept of
the "suffering servant," the Judaeo-Christian message of victory through defeat,
and salvation through suffering, will find that A.A. literature seems familiar.
The literature betrays the influences of psychological, philosophical and
theological thinkers ranging from Augustine of Hippo through to Carl Jung. Even
the concept of Twelve Steps is not itself new: Bernard of Clairvaux's first
published treatise, written probably in 1127, was The Twelve Steps of Humility
and Pride. Although there is no evidence that the [Link] A.A. were aware of
this work, there are remarkable similarities. Now in print as a Hodder Christian
classic, Bernard's Twelve Steps urge the "step of truth, where awareness of our
own shortcomings makes us merciful towards other people." He describes the joy in
lettin go" of his pride.
A.A., however, despite its well documented roots in the Oxford Group, the
inspirational revivalist movement founded by Dr. Frank Buchman in America, is not
evangelical in that it does not actively recruit members. The only requirement
for mmrship is a desire to stop drinking. Most A.A. members do report,
however, that those who achieve a lasting and contented sobriety are those who
learn to depend on a God "of their own understanding."
Fr John, a Roman Catholic priest with 18 years of sobriety under his belt,
describes how A.A., far from destroying the belief on which his living depended,
opened the door to a faith that worked. "My drinking history was trumatic," he
says. "1 was a pub drinker. I would try and keep topped up. Right at the end I
occasionally drank alter wine, because there was nothing else. I used to mix
vodka and poteen with it to give it a lift." He describes falling asleep on the
alter at Mass, and being "poured over the presbytery doorstep" by taxi-drivers
after a night out. He was also a heavy user of barbiturates, which made his
behavior unpredictable and his lVblackouts" - memory losses - more frequent. His
faith did not help: his problem, one he says is cormnon to many of his fellow A.A.
members, was not that he did not believe in Sod, but that God did not believe in
him. "I was utterly convinced that I was outside redemption.t' The Church came to
his rescue, giving him the choice of voluntary admission to a treatment center,
or compulsory admission to a mental hospital. He chose the lesser of the two
evils, and at the treatment center, which he prefers not to name, was introduced
to A.A. Anonymity is central to A.A., a protection for both the individual and
the fellowship. We talk on the telephone, and he calls me. I am not given his
number, or his full name.
"My first meeting had a tremendous impact on me, and from that day until
today I have not picked up a drink," he says. "It was like being born again. I
started going to a meeting every day, and began to understand the nature of the
initial impact. I put it down to unconditional love, which I describe as an
actual grace." He means this to be understood in Augustinian terms, and repeats
it: "A.A. is theologically, an actual grace." But was this the power of the group
or of Sod? "What is the difference? God works through people. It is as simple as
that. " Yet the puzzle of why some drink again , often to die or face imprisonment
or insanity, remains. Fr. John says: "I can only make a suggestion, and that is
that God gives his grace to whom he will. There is a lot of Augustian thought in
A.A. The notion is of a choice, but you have an Augustinian rather than an
Aristotelian concept of freedom. Augustine's guide in moral theology was, 'Love,
and do what you will.'
"Yet taking Step Two was the most difficult part of the programme for me. I
was convinced I was a wicked person, and here I was being offered the experience
of recovery, of a loving, warm, caring higher power." After nine months, the
penny dropped. "I realized I had to let go of my own idea of Sod, which was a
sick and false idea, and experience the reality of love, healing, hope and joy
that was coming into me. Then of course I found that all this had already been
said about Sod, in the Bible, and I became the biggest bore about it."
"1 now realize that religion cannot be a substitute for spirituality. The
latter is necessaryl the former is not. But where recovery from alcohol is
concerned, religion as an adjunct to spirituality is like a booster rocket. I see
A.A. as a partial outpouring of the spirit, as in Ezekel and Isaiah. A.A. is a
ministry of deliverence from obsession, and must therefore be a great spiritual
enrichment to society as a whole. It is a joyful walk with the Lord."
His language became positively evangelical as he warmed to his subject, a ,
phenomenon common to all the alcoholics I spoke to for this article, and to the
A.A. literature I was given to read. In the A.A. Bible, Alcoholics Anonymous (or
the Big Book as insiders call it, after it was printed on thicker-than-average
paper to reassure tight-fisted alcoholics that they were getting value for
money), Bill W. surunarises the alcoholic nightmare in apocalyptic style. 'The
less people tolerated US," he recalls, "the more we withdrew from society, from
life itself. As we became subjects of King Alcohol , shivering denizens of his mad
realm, the chilling vapor that is loneliness settled down. It thickened, ever
becoming blacker. Some of us sought out sordid places, hoping to find
understanding, companionship and approval. Momentarily we did. Then would come
oblivion and the awful awakening to face the hideous Four Horsemen - Terror,
Bewilderment, Frustration and Despair." In his subsequent book, Twelve Steps and
Twelve Traditions, Bill W. suggests A.A. members approach the quasi-confessional
Step Four by taking "a universally recognized list of major human failings - the
Seven Deadly Sins of pride, greed, lust, anger, gluttony, envy and sloth."
Bill W. sobered up in hospital after an extraordinary spiritual experience,
described in his biography, Pass It On. Aware he was close to the end, facing
death and madness, he reached a state of absolute surrender, and cried out: "If
there be a God, let Him show himself!" His prayer was answered. In his own words:
"Suddenly, my room blazed with an indescribably white light. I was seized with an
ecstasy beyond description. Every joy I had known was pale by comparison. The
light, the ecstasy - I was conscious of nothing else for a time.
"Then, seen in a mind's eye, there was a mountain. I stood upon its summit,
where a great wind blew. A wind, not of air, but of spirit. In great, clean
strength, it blew right through me. Then came the blazing thought, 'You are a
free man.' I know not at all how lomg I remained in this state, but finally the
light and the ecstasy subsided. I again saw the wall of my room. As I became more
quiet, a great peace stole over me, and this was accompanied by a sensation
difficult to describe. I became acutely conscious of a Presence which seemed like
a veritable sea of loving spirit. I lay on the shores of a new world. 'This,' I
thought, 'must be the great reality. The God of the Preachers'.... For the first
time, I felt that I really belonged. I knew that I was loved and could love in
return. I thanked my Sod, who had given me a glimpse of his absolute self."
It becomes important, considering such language, to listen to A.A. members
who say with determination that their fellowship is not Christian, not even
religious, but spiritual. Step Two, they argue, speaks not of Cod but of a "power
greater than ourselves," known universally as the "Higher Power." (This can
arouse fears -ng the Church coamunity, however I learned recently of one
churchman whose concern about the amorphous nature of this Higher Power was such
that he feared it to be so far from God as to be His antonym, and considered
taking steps to end the regular A.A. meetings which had been taking place in his
church basement.)
One determined agnostic, who combines considerable eminence in his chosen
career with voluntary work in treatment centers that sobered him up seven years
ago I says: "In the steps, there are two sets of four words which are underlined:
they are the words 'As we understood Him.' It is quite clear to agnostics who
read the steps carefully that they have come to a place where there is no
prescriptive approach to God. It is a far cry from my own experience of the
Church, where the approach to Cod is extremely prescriptive and prejudicial."
He found faith through a personal recovery that certainly saved his life:
"You make your acquaintance with the Higher Power, given that your recovery goes
well, as you feel it work. You can define it, know it, relate to it, even as it
makes its presence known to you." He chooses to call his higher power Cod,
despite his stated agnosticism. "both theologically and philosophically, in many
different disciplines, Cod always suffices as a shorthand of some kind or other.
For me it has become a shorthand for goodness. It takes the mystery out of the
word to have it simply as the source from which goodness flows. My choice is to
believe in its existence. Otherwise, I do not think I would have recovered."
This man also had a vision, but in the suitable secular terms appropriate
for such a devout agnostic. A picture of a boot crushing a green shoot in a
desert appeared, and remained with him for many days. As he began to get well,
and took counsel from a sober Catholic priest seconded by his religious order to
the treatment center, the boot lifted and finally disappeared, leaving the green
shoot free to grow. This demonstrated to me that there was a force in play, and
it was working for my rescue. That it was a vision there can be no doubt, but it
Was presented in a secular manner. There was no Victorian tableau with some
marble, redeeming hand descending from angry clouds. The imagery was in primary
colours, and to do with primary matters of life and death. It was a Clear Sipal
that I was imperilled. In the desert you die without sustenance."
As this illustrates, to debate too closely the religious nature or otherwise
of A.A. 'would be to miss the fundamental point that its aims are intrinsically
spiritual. Depending on whether they are agnostic, atheist or believers, A.A.
members looking for an excuse to drink again are quite capable of arguing either
that their fellowship is too religious, or, if they are themselves religious,
that A.A. is not explicitly religious enough. Equally, new members who refer to
the "spiritual side" of the prograrmne will often be pulled up by older members
arguing that to speak of a "spiritual side" is false, since it implies the
existence of a nonspiritual side; that in truth the prograxmne is spiritual in
substance. It is possible also, members report, to go too far in the opposite
direction: to place undue emphasis on the spiritual life can also be to miss the
point that the Twelve Steps climax with one which enjoins service and working
with others, and it is only the eleventh that calls for "prayer and meditation."
A recovering alcoholic who does not make it a first priority to help others
recover is unlikely to get well, no matter how devout and real his or her faith.
This was well illustrated by Bill W's own early experience. After Bill was
discharged from hospital on December 18, 1934, he never took another drink. But
the crucial aspect of this story is that he failed dismally for many weeks to
make anyone else sober up by his description of his transforming experience. It
was only when he was put in touch with Dr. Bob, and described his experience as
an active, suffering alcoholic in a way that the doctor could identify with, that
another alcoholic was set on the road to recovery and A.A. offically began. In
her book Getting Better Inside Alcoholics Anonymous, however, the Pulitzer
prize-winner Nan Robertson relates that Bill W., although sober, remained
endearingly alcoholic in certain traits of his personality to the end, proof that
members are never cured, but achieve only a daily reprieve from their illness. He
tried and failed to recapture his spiritual experience through the use of seances
and LSD.
Inevitably, physicians have since speculated that Bill W's vision was a
function of delirium precipitated by toxic psychosis. Similar but less dramatic
stories of spiritual awakenings are repeated in the slim A.A. volume, Came to
Believe. Bill W., who subsequently became an avid reader of books such as William
James's The Varieties of Religious Experience, says: "It is certain that all
recipients of spiritual experiences declare for their reality. The best evidence
of that reality is in the subsequent fruits. Those who receive these gifts of
grace are very much changed people , almost invariably for the better."
Bill W. and Bob S. early on pledged A.A. to an absolute apolitical stance.
The fellowship would not then, nor will it to this day, comment at all on any
issue to do with temperance, licensing laws, the beer trade, or in fact anything
at all outside its own direct sphere of influence, helping suffering alcoholics
to achieve sobriety. The "organisation" of A.A., and I put that in quotes
deliberately because it is probably the closest thing to a successfully
functioning anarchy in existence, has no opinion on the temperance question.
Bill W. and Bob S. always acknowledged the help they received from the
Oxford Group but they recognised that the growing fellowship of A.A. would have
to split from this organisation after Buchman was accused of pro-Nazi sympathies.
Buchman was later vindicated, but this change brought the group into the kind of
public controversy which was contrary to the emerging principles of A.A. Also the
Oxford Group changed its emphasis from small, intimate meetings to national and
world assemblies. At the time Bill W. wrote: "The principle of agressive
evangelism so prominent as an Oxford Group attitude had to be dropped in order to
get results with alcoholics. Experience showed that this principle....would
seldom touch neurotics of our hue." Bill called for greater tolerance and love:
"The athiest may stand up in an A.A. meeting denying God, yet reporting how he
has been helped in other ways. Experience tells us he will presently change his
mind, but nobody tells him he must do so."
What the fellowship appears to have done is to ditch the political and
overtly Christian moralising of Moral Rearmament (as the Oxford Group became) in
order to concentrate solely on the concepts of service to others, personal
development through the process of a "personal inventory" in step four, five and
ten and spiritual development through all twelve. That this was not an easy
proces can be gleaned through the story of one early member, Ed, an atheist
salesman who managed despite scepticism from his fellow-members to sober up
dozens of alcoholics. In his words, recorded in Twelve Steps and Twelve
Traditions, his objection was to the higher power: "1 can't stand this God stuff!
It's a lot of malarkey for weak folks. This group doesn't need it, and I won't
have it! To hell with it!" The group tried to expel him, prayed almost that he
would drink, but he refuse to leave, citing them the third tradition, that to be
a member he need only have a desire to stop drinking. Ed apparently never did
drink again, but one night, alone and desperate in a hotel room in 1938, he found
the Gideon Bible and began to read it , and discovered a faith. Bill W. records:
"What if we had actually succeeded in throwing Ed out for blasphemy? What would
have happened to him and all the others he later helped? So the hand of
Providence early gave us a sign that any alcoholic is a member of our society
when he says so."
This was an early recognition of the inescapanle fact that, no matter what
the truth or otherwise of Christianity's message of hope and redemption, no
alcoholic will stop drinking who does not first want to do so. Bill W. recognised
this, and so have the many clergy, ministers and Catholic priests who continue to
allow their halls, crypts and basements to be used for meetings of an
organisation baffling in both its power and powerlessness to help the suffering
alcoholic through faith.