Coming Clean
PAGE 1 of 5
I like beer. I always have. Ever since my high school buddy and I drank ourselves sick with a case of quarts, I have liked beer. I like the way it washes down a piece of pizza and mutes the spice of enchiladas. It goes great with peanuts at the baseball game and seems an appropriate way to crown eighteen holes of golf. Out of the keg, tap, bottle, or frosty mug—it doesn't matter to me. I like it.
Too much. Alcoholism haunts my family ancestry. I have early memories of following my father through the halls of a rehab center to see his sister. Similar scenes repeated themselves with other relatives for decades. Beer doesn't mix well with my family DNA. So at the age of 21, I swore off it.
I never made a big deal out of my abstinence. Nor someone else's indulgence. I differentiate between drinking and drunkenness and decided, in my case, the former would lead to the latter, so I quit. Besides, I was a seminary student (for the next two years). Then a minister (three years). Next a missionary (five years). Then a minister again (twenty-two years and counting). I wrote Christian books and spoke at Christian conferences. A man of the cloth shouldn't chum with Heineken products, right? So I didn't.
Then a few years back something resurrected my cravings. Too many commercials? Too many baseball games? Too many Episcopalian friends? (Just kidding). I don't know. Quite likely it was just thirst. The south Texas heat can rage like a range fire. At some point I reached for a can of brew instead of a can of soda, and as quick as you can pop the top, I was a beer fan again. A once-in-a-while … then once-a-week … then once-a-day beer fan.
Another Round
I kept my preference to myself. No beer at home, lest my daughters think less of me. No beer in public. Who knows who might see me? None at home, none in public, which left only one option: convenience-store parking lots. For about a week I was that guy in the car, drinking out of the brown paper bag.
No, I don't know what resurrected my cravings, but I remember what stunted them. En route to speak at a men's retreat, I stopped for my daily purchase. I walked out of the convenience store with a beer pressed against my side, scurried to my car for fear of being seen, opened the door, climbed in, and opened the can.
Then it dawned on me. I had become the very thing I hate: a hypocrite. A pretender. Two-faced. Acting one way. Living another. I had written sermons about people like me—Christians who care more about appearance than integrity. It wasn't the beer but the cover-up that nauseated me.
I knew what I needed to do. I'd written sermons about that too. "If we say we have no sin, we are fooling ourselves, and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, he will forgive our sins, because we can trust God to do what is right. He will cleanse us from all the wrongs we have done" (1 John 1:8-9, NCV).
PAGE 1 of 5
Max Lucado is minister of writing and preaching at Oak Hills Church in San Antonio, Texas.
Not a Subscriber?
Subscribe Today!
- One risk-free issue
- Instant access to all Leadership Journal web content
- OFFER DETAILS
rating & comments
Average User Rating:
Displaying 1–5 of 28 comments
Jackie
After reading some of the comments, I'm reminded why confession is so rare in the church. I too love the taste of beer and see nothing wrong with drinking alcohol. But my husband and I both have family histories of alcoholism, so we've chosen not to drink. So, if I were to drink now, there would be no sin involved unless I chose to hide it for fear of loss of reputation. When I read this, that is what I thought the confession was about. Confessing what he knew the elders would not support and what he knew had been an attempt to hide for fear of loss of reputation. Isn't that why we hide all of our sins from others. Isn't that why the majority of pastors would never confess their use of porn to their elders or men's group. And isn't that why we continue to battle sins because they remain in the dark and are never brought into the light. So, belittle Max for his confession if you want, but I challenge you to see how comfortable you are to name your hidden sin before others.
Truth
"And confessing pastors lead freedom filled churches" I love how pastor's seem to always come up with some sort of justification which makes them look better after their own sin. If this was someone other than Max Lucado, everyone would be roasting him.
Brian
Max, we love you. We love you for your honesty and wisdom. We love you for Hermie and friends, and the impact it has on our pre-schooler, who also loves her "Uncle Max". Sitting here in here in Guildford, England as I type this, I wonder how many of us have the courage to put our hands up to the secret sins. As a teaching poastor in my church, I am all too aware of the dangers of not being accountable to brothers for my actions "off camera". the enemy gets so much out of isolating us, its almost sinful NOT to confess our sins to each other. Bless the elders at Oak Hills Church for their manifest grace, thats why we have elders. Young people should never forget that's why we have elders! John 8 stuff. Personally, I chuck my stone away, send Max a high 5 in the Spirit and will share this with as many believers as I can. There, but for His grace, go us all.
Harriet
I applaud Max for considering his family background of drinking to access and deciding to abstain from this one thing that could cause many more problems in his life than any pleasure he would get from drinking beer to access, which, I believe would have become the problem of problems for him. My admiration for Max has been large in reading his wonderful books through the years and learning much from them. The fact that he comes forth publicly, not just before God, who knows everything anyway. God wants a personal relationship with each of us, and the lesson from Max in this one issue of drinking beer teaches us to do the same with our own issues of the world. Yes, Jesus turned the water into wine for the wedding and probably had wine with meals and talked about putting wine into new wineskins: the water was not fit to drink in His day. The water He spoke of was the Living Water provided by Him for nourishment for our souls and to grow our fruits of the spirit.
Janet
Mary Beth, I've listened to people who have research expertise on the subject, and one beer does not increase your likelihood of a car accident one whit. This is NOT drunk driving. I'm a bit disappointed this is written like the elders seemed to treat not only his hiding the drinking but the drinking itself as a sin. Avoiding drink probably is a wise choice given his family history, but as has been pointed out by other commentators, there is no biblical case to be made that having a drink is sinful.
(on articles open to the public, you must at least register for a free account).
