Never, never, never forget that we are different. We cannot live like others. Our difference is this: We cannot drink alcohol.
An Alcoholic
One of my earliest memories of comedy involved an aging vaudevillian named Mr. Pastry. With amazing dexterity and comic timing, Mr. Pastry performed "The Passing-Out Ceremony" on "The Ed Sullivan Show." While music played, Mr. Pastry acted out a group of men drinking, dancing, and cavorting until they passed out. Our family laughed and laughed at this act. On vacation we mimed our way to the resort dining hall, acting like a tipsy Mr. Pastry.
But when you think about it, drunkenness isn't all that funny. Consider these facts:
• An estimated ten million Americans suffer from alcoholism, about 4 percent of the population, one in twenty-five.
• If each of these has about four family members or close friends affected by that alcoholism, another forty million Americans are deeply affected (making fifty million, about one-fifth of our population, impacted heavily by alcoholism).
• One in ten social drinkers will become an alcoholic, and there is no way to predict accurately which one that will be.
• According to conservative estimates, about 6 percent of the work force is alcoholic, and they cost employers over fifteen billion dollars a year and contribute to a large proportion of work-related accidents.
• Heavy drinking contributes to an estimated 80 percent of fire and drowning accidents, 60 percent of violent crimes, and 30 percent of suicides.
• Someone dies because of drunken driving every twenty-two minutes.
• Alcoholism is our third-worst national health problem, following only cancer and heart disease.
Added to those cold facts are what pastors see up close: the countless individuals devastated, careers ruined, families split, children abused or neglected, potentials unreached, and hearts broken. This, anyone would call a crisis.
A Place of Help
Early in my pastoral career, I counseled a 45-year-old alcoholic. She was trying to dry out but having a rough go of it. I talked with Frances for hours, listening, being supportive, trying to arrange housing or a job for her, agreeing with her how bad things were, and basically patting her on the back saying she was doing the best she could.
Eventually she invited me to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. The meeting room appeared dark, the air was filled with smoke, and the table was surrounded by some roughhewn characters, as well as others that looked like your ordinary man on the street. They went around the table introducing themselves by their first names and adding, "I am an alcoholic." When it got to me, I felt like saying, "I'm Jim, and I am out of place," but it didn't seem the place for humor.
I was wrong. Before the evening was out, I had laughed several times. I had also been amazed at the level of care and insight. A woman who looked like she'd seen it all seemed to know exactly what to say to a business-suited man crying about his last drunk. A craggy-faced man with a voice that sounded like he'd gargled with razor blades gave a testimony about how he'd given up his addiction to a "higher power" and how that had saved him from death.
But what really shocked me was how they treated Frances. I had been handling her problem with kid gloves; these fellow alcoholics put on the boxing gloves. She mentioned having "just a little drink now and then." They told her, "Honey, that's the stupidest thing you could possibly do. Why do you want to kill yourself?" She started crying when they didn't understand. They replied, "Ain't no one responsible for your drinking but you, so you have no reason to feel sorry for yourself." She stammered out that she couldn't help drinking sometimes. They responded, "Look, Baby, you have a sponsor, and you didn't call her. You could have, but you didn't. Don't give us any trash [they used a different word] about wanting to quit drinking. When you really want to quit, we'll be here. But until then, we don't want to hear your excuses."
This kind of verbal thrashing went on for some time, and I felt like jumping in to defend Frances. After all, we'd talked about her problems, and I could see why she resorted to the bottle, as much as I didn't like it. These folks, however, were jumping all over her. Couldn't they just be nice to her?
Finally they moved on to other people. Some they tenderly encouraged. Others they applauded. Still others they bashed harder than Francis. As she and I drove away from the meeting, I had to ask: "How could you stand the way they treated you?"
"They were right," Francis replied. "They knew I was making excuses. You can fool some people, and we alcoholics get pretty good at it, but it's hard to fool another alcoholic. They've been where I am, and they see right through my rationalizations. They told me tonight what they had to say, and I love them for it."
Francis, I learned, needed those Alcoholics Anonymous meetings as much as she needed food and shelter. They were her one lifeline to sobriety. The last time I saw her, she was holding down a good job and living free of alcohol. Alcoholics Anonymous was responsible. I had been only a nice crutch to help her continue drinking.
I learned something: For alcholics, AA is indispensable. Rare indeed is the alcoholic who can stay dry without it. Often the best thing I can do as a pastor is to get an alcoholic to attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.
They don't want to go. The typical excuses are threefold: (1) I don't like the people there. That usually translates: I'm too good for that crowd. They're nothing but alcoholic losers.
It's true that often there are some Dickensian characters, but groups also contain judges, bankers, merchants, churchgoers. Often there are several groups to choose from. Suggest that the alcoholic go to at least six meetings before deciding to drop a group. By that time, he should find the value greater than the discomfort.
(2) They smoke too much, and the language isn't nice. It's true that heavy smoking and sometimes coarse language do characterize many Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. The people there are working on the one most important problem in their life: addiction to alcohol. The other niceties come later.
A few nonsmoking groups are available, though, or people can find the best spot in the room to avoid smoke. Some groups cater specifically to Christians. But apart from that, the question remains: If you were on the Titanic, would you wait for a nonsmoking lifeboat with cultured people?
(3) I don't have time. Few people relish the addition of another meeting (or several) every week. But we do have time to do what is truly important, and AA meetings aren't only important; they're essential.
Alcoholics Anonymous is built around the Twelve Steps. They can be found in AA literature, and any member ought to be able to recite them. Here are the steps:
- We admitted we were powerless over alcohol — that our lives had become unmanageable.
- Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
- Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
- Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
- Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
- Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
- Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
- Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
- Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
- Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
- 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.
- 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.
(The steps are written purposely in vaguely religious language. The founders were Christians. Many of the present members are strongly Christian. The power of the twelve steps is God at work. However, in order to involve many people from a wide variety of backgrounds and beliefs, the language of the steps and the tone of the meetings remain nonsectarian.)
Printed there in black and white, the steps don't look all that powerful. But backed up with the tough love of fellow AA members, those twelve steps have revolutionized lives. Over a million people today are remaining sober for another day because of Alcoholics Anonymous. It works.
Alcoholics Anonymous reminds its members that no matter how long they've gone without alcohol, they are still alcoholics. That's why the introduction at every meeting: I'm so-and-so, and I'm an alcoholic. They know they cannot consume alcohol in any amount. They are only one drink away from addiction for the rest of their lives. Many continue to attend AA regularly throughout their lifetime. Even after long sobriety, they need the group, and the group needs them.
Confronting the Alcoholic
But the crisis of alcoholism often is that the alcoholic does not or will not seek help. How does a pastor drive an alcoholic into the arms of rescue?
Not alone. One of the most successful — and also problematic — ways to stir an alcoholic into seeking help is the guided confrontation or intervention. In an intervention, a small number of significant people in the alcoholic's life (spouse, children, employer, physician, best friend, etc.) lovingly but firmly confront the alcoholic with specific, undeniable evidence of his alcoholism and how it has hurt others.
When it works properly, a brief breach is knocked in the alcoholic's defenses, and for a moment he sees the destruction his alcoholism has caused. At that crucial point, the idea is to get the alcoholic to admit himself immediately into a thirty-day residential or outpatient treatment program, or to commit to attending ninety Alcoholics Anonymous meetings in as many days. One of these three options — inpatient treatment, outpatient care, or a megadose of Alcoholics Anonymous, in descending order of effectiveness — is the desired outcome of an intervention. Each option has been proven to make a significant impact on even reluctant alcoholics.
A guided confrontation is not something to be entered into lightly or without significant preparation. If it fails, the alcoholic can be harmed, and it isn't unknown for an angry alcoholic to threaten or pursue violence against the interveners. Therefore skilled professional help in the intervention is mandatory. Such qualified counselors can often be located through a local drug and alcohol council or by checking with Alcoholics Anonymous. Some medical societies have a local "Impaired Physicians Committee" to help doctors with chemical dependencies, and they can recommend a physician with experience in interventions. The Johnson Institute (10700 Olson Memorial Highway, Minneapolis, MN 55441) pioneered this tactic and can give information about finding help. To repeat, don't try to do an intervention without preparation and training.
What does an intervention look like? Anderson Spickard, a physician and co-author with Barbara Thompson of Dying for a Drink, suggests in that book four preparatory steps:
1.Intercessory prayer. People cannot rescue an alcoholic, but God can. Prayers of surrender and intercession are more than a nice addition to the preparation. Spickard considers them mandatory.
2.Education. Those involved need to understand alcoholism. Misinformation and ignorance heighten the chance for a botched intervention.
3.A support group. Al-Anon is an Alcoholics Anonymous-related group for family members of alcoholics. At Al-Anon meetings spouses and children find support and understanding and the strength to make the hard choices to quit enabling the alcoholic.
4.The end of enablement. The family and other enablers need to let the alcoholic experience the consequences of his addiction. Says Spickard: "As long as he can drink and lead a reasonably normal life, he will drink. If suddenly he finds himself paying his own fines, cleaning up after himself when he is sick, making his own explanations to his boss, facing bankruptcy, and, if necessary, serving a jail sentence, then he begins to comprehend an important message from reality."
At the intervention itself, each of the members lovingly and dispassionately tells the alcoholic about specific, documented results of his drunkenness: a party ruined, a child disgraced in front of friends, the car being wrecked, creditors demanding these bills be paid, the time he broke the furniture in the basement. Two key participants are the family physician and the alcoholic's boss — the physician to document present and expected medical complications, and the boss to warn of indisputable employment ramifications. For an active church member, the pastor can be key. These people make the problem public. It is no longer a family secret.
A rehearsal should be held. Running through the scenario allows those emotionally involved to surface anger or sorrow and deal with it before the intervention. It also allows for tight scripting and timing. The intervention must be well planned.
A reservation for a treatment facility ought to be arranged for that day or the following one. Employment plans should be arranged for a leave of absence. All impediments to leaving immediately for the treatment need to be anticipated and taken care of. The idea is to capitalize on the vulnerable moment.
Some interventions only partially work. The alcoholic softens but won't go into a program. Often an adamant promise to quit by himself is the most the alcoholic will give. In that case, interveners seek a written and signed promise that at the first sign of alcohol consumption, the alcoholic will then commit himself to a care program.
If the intervention fails, it can be tried again. Time and negative circumstances may push the alcoholic across the line next time. If not, the family probably has been brought together by the intervention process, and they have the satisfaction of at least trying to hinder the course of their loved one's alcoholism.
Spouses of Alcoholics
According to Alexander C. De Jong, a pastor who was himself an alcoholic, in Help and Hope for the Alcoholic, "Ninety-seven percent of all alcoholics are persons raising families, holding jobs, struggling to do their best to function in the face of a killer disease." That means a lot of husbands, wives, and children are living with an alcoholic — and a lot of pain.
With all the difficulties of an alcoholic spouse — financial problems, social embarrassments, possible abuse, worry, lies and deception, assuming the alcoholic's responsibilities on top of one's own, psychological games playing — I sometimes wonder what holds such a marriage together. The answer is probably threefold: intermittent reinforcement, reciprocal roles, and, the best, agape love.
Alcoholics, like anyone, have their good sides. When sober, they can be charming, loyal, loving, highly competent, humorous, caring, chivalrous — all the good things people love in each other. These sober times dominate the relationship in the beginning. And even well into alcoholism, sober periods may predominate or at least punctuate the marriage, sometimes for extended periods. Psychologists call this intermittent reinforcement, and behavior that has been shaped by intermittent reinforcement is the hardest to extinguish. Even when the down times get more frequent and harder to take, the memory of the up times keeps alive the behavior of loving the spouse. And, who knows, maybe this time he really will stay sober and things will look up.
Reciprocal roles means that both the alcoholic and the enabler gain something from the arrangement. A husband who wants to dominate his wife can do so when she remains helplessly drunk. A wife with a need to rescue can continually mother her alcoholic husband and take care of him. People with poor self-images sometimes feel deep down that they don't deserve a "whole" spouse, so they settle for a spouse fractured by alcoholism.
Agape love is realistic and long-suffering. It loves in order to give worth to the beloved, not because of the beloved's worth. This kind of love can keep a marriage going long after most would give up on it. It can't be soft love that gives in to a spouse's alcoholism; it is a tough love that is willing to do whatever is necessary to bring about the best results for the spouse. That sometimes means believing in the spouse who cannot believe in himself. It often means bearing great hurt and coming back for more — on realistic, helpful terms. Agape love loves the alcoholic in spite of the alcoholism, but works to love the alcoholic through and beyond the alcoholism.
Sometimes love means leaving a spouse. It may be to prove dramatically the gravity of the alcohol addiction, or it may be because of the welfare — physical, emotional, and/or financial — of the sober spouse and children. Whether that leaving means separation or divorce is something each spouse and each pastor have to consider.
In any case, the spouse will need the understanding and support of a congregation. Spouses in many ways need the same kind of Christian warmth and understanding they would require if the alcoholic were lost to death. They have to learn how to grieve the loss, at least temporarily, of a loved one.
Besides counsel and warm support, the best thing a pastor can do for the spouse of an alcoholic is to connect him or her with Al-Anon. These people have been through or are going through what this spouse is experiencing.
Children of Alcoholics
Spickard lists four classic ways children defend against the troubles of a parent's alcoholism:
The family hero. Some kids attempt to pick up every ball an alcoholic parent drops. They become old and responsible years before their time. They compulsively try to fix everything in the family and eventually become frantic when more things fall apart than they can handle. These children often do very well in school and appear to be model kids. Unfortunately, they pay a price by being practically unable to let up. Some in their thirties or forties simply fall apart from the strain.
The placater-servant. This child takes responsibility for everything. Well attuned to the slightest hurt or disagreement, this child steps in to try to smooth feelings. Self-esteem is gained by how much this child gives of himself or herself. Sometimes this one becomes the family clown in an attempt to ease tension.
The adjuster. This child vanishes into the woodwork. He figures if he can just stay out of trouble's way, things will be okay. He makes no waves, casts no shadow. He's the one no one remembers at class reunions, and enters life ill prepared for responsibilities. Emotional detachment and apathy helped him through a difficult family life but sabotage his chances as an adult.
The rebellious child. She acts out her problems to get attention, for even negative attention is better than no attention. This child is often prone to abuse drugs and alcohol and enters adulthood on the way to trouble — if not squarely enmeshed in it.
These children need help, and lots of it. Spickard writes, "The passage of time seldom heals the wounds of children of alcoholics. Unless they get help for their deep psychological and spiritual difficulties, for the remainder of their lives they will be at high risk for the development of addiction or emotional collapse. And chances are they will pass these problems on to their children and grandchildren.…" By helping them obtain help, a caring pastor and congregation can see that these children don't fall through the cracks of society.
Drug Abuse
Much of what has preceded can apply to drug abuse. The substance differs, and some medical implications vary, but the result is the same: addiction to a substance that promises relief and offers only progressive pain.
I recently asked a pastor of an affluent suburban church about his involvement with parishioners with drug problems. His immediate response was, "I haven't had much experience with that." But then he started remembering, and right away instances came to mind. Drugs are everywhere.
One time Ben (what I'll call the pastor) got a call from a young woman named Jackie. Her boyfriend, Andy, had been an elder in the church. Andy was in his late thirties, divorced, the father of a couple of young kids. He was a top-notch businessman on the fast track to wealth and success. Jackie had bad news: "Andy is on cocaine. I know I don't go to your church, but Andy does, and he thinks a lot of you and Ginny [Ben's wife]. I need you to help me help Andy."
As they talked, the idea of an intervention came up, but Ben realized he had no experience in that sort of thing. Jackie was willing to give it a try, so she and Ben and Ginny went to a nearby hospital to get information. There they got the training they needed to attempt an intervention with Andy.
They scheduled a nice dinner at Jackie's house. After dinner, Ben spoke. "Andy, we have something to say to you. We love you, but we want you to get free of your cocaine habit." That startled Andy. He didn't know they knew. "You're a phony, Andy," Ben continued. "You're professing one thing and living another. Do you know how horrible you're making life for your kids? Do you have any idea of the hurt you're bringing them?" Ben hit hard.
Then Jackie began. "Andy, I really care for you, but your cocaine is ruining our relationship. Do you realize that three times in the last month you've stood me up? I know what you were doing. It was your cocaine. We will not be able to continue our relationship if you keep your cocaine. Andy, it's either cocaine or me. You've got to make a choice."
Then came Ginny's turn. Ginny was special to Andy, like a second mom. Her job was to soften up a little: "Andy, I don't know what to say. I guess I just feel betrayed by you. I so respect you that it's hard to think of you throwing your life away to cocaine."
Andy sat a little dazed. He didn't say much. "He was like a dog with his tail between his legs that night," Ben remembers.
Soon afterward, Ben and Andy's eldest daughter, a 12-year-old, met with him. She pleaded with her dad, "You've got a cocaine problem. You need help. We want you to go to a hospital where you can get straightened out." Andy wavered, but he wouldn't yield that much. He was determined "to do it on my own," but agreed to see a counselor Ben recommended.
He started doing well for a while, but a day came when he was to take Ben and Ginny to a Cubs game. When he showed up forty-five minutes late, they suspected something was wrong. They knew it once they were with him. He broke down and confessed to Ginny, and Ben and Ginny had to tell his counselor.
Again Andy was back on the road to recovery. He's still getting excellent care from a counselor. Ben believes Andy's going to make it this time. The counselor once told Ben, "If it weren't for the church, we would have lost Andy."
Ben had heard that after the dinner confrontation, Andy had told a friend how angry he was at Ben and Jackie — somehow Ginny had been spared the anger. Ben had worried about risking the relationship, but he decided it was worth it to save Andy. What good would the relationship be if Andy were lost?
"I didn't want to be judgmental," says Ben, "but the time does come to not pull your punches. That's why I came across so tough with him at that dinner confrontation. Those were things he needed to know — in the context of my regard for him. And you'll notice I didn't carry the load myself. I gathered others around me. Problems of addiction are too taxing to try to carry alone. I'm thankful for a church that stands with me in times of crisis."
As it turned out, both the relationship and Andy were retained. He stayed in the church, the men's group surrounded him with support, and his life is fitting back together.
But a caution comes from Ed Gouedy, pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Fort Thomas, Kentucky: "With cases of substance abuse, so often the problem is not over when it's over. Recidivism rates are discouraging. The power of evil is incredible, and sometimes you feel like you're running the same bases over and over again. But the power of the Holy Spirit to change the 'incorrigible' never ceases to amaze me, either."
Quickscan ALCOHOL AND DRUG PROBLEMS
Immediate concerns:
1.Drugs and alcohol can be toxic — deadly. Obtain immediate emergency medical aid if any indication of a drug overdose or an alcoholic coma is evident. A fifth of alcohol ingested in an hour can kill.
2.People high on drugs or drunk on alcohol can be violent and dangerous. Do not attempt to restrain them unless heroic efforts are called for.
3.You cannot reason with a drunk. Get medical help and talk later when the drunk is sober.
Keep in mind:
1.An alcoholic will probably be able to outtalk you with denial and rationalization. Reason will not sway the alcohol addict; the pain of consequences may.
2.Unless the benefits of sobriety appear significantly stronger than the benefits of alcohol or drugs, the addict will not give up the addiction. The most humane treatment is to expose the addict fully to the personal and family pain he is causing.
3.The addict cannot quit no matter how strong his will. Until he realizes he is helpless, he will resolutely pursue dead ends.
4.Addiction affects a family system. The whole family often needs help.
5.The single most effective way to help is to convince the addict to enroll in a thirty-day in-patient treatment program based on Alcoholics Anonymous guidelines. Out-patient programs or ninety Alcoholics Anonymous meetings in as many days are other alternatives.
Things to do or say:
1.Provide love, encouragement, and support without sheltering the addict from consequences of his actions.
2.Suggest, urge, shanghai the person to go to Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous meetings.
3.Counsel and obtain help for family members affected by an addicted member.
4.Help loved ones arrange for an intervention led by competent and experienced professionals.
5.Provide literature and help educate everyone involved about the realities of drug and alcohol addiction.
Things not to do or say:
1.Do not use guilt, especially with Christian addicts. They feel great guilt already, even if not spoken, and further guilt without release pushes them toward suicide.
2.Do not become an enabler. Let them bear the consequences of their actions. Crises can actually be good, if the addicts have to mop up the consequences themselves.
3.Do not expect an alcoholic to quit by will power. An addict is powerless over his addiction. God must intervene.
4.Do not be too hard on yourself if your efforts seem wasted. You cannot rescue someone. God can, and he may use you. And he may not. That's up to him.
For further study:
Alcoholics Anonymous. 3d ed. New York: World Services, Inc., 1976.
DeJong, Alexander C. Help and Hope for the Alcoholic. Carol Stream, Ill.: Tyndale House Publishers, 1982.
Johnson, Vernon E. I'll Quit Tomorrow. New York: Harper & Row, 1980.
Spickard, Anderson, M.D., and Barbara R. Thompson. Dying for a Drink: What You Should Know about Alcoholism. Waco, Tex.: Word Books, 1985.
Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc.
Box 459 Grand Central Station
New York, NY 10163
Al-Anon
A.F.G., Inc.
P.O. Box 182
Madison Square Station
New York, NY 10159-0182
The Johnson Institute
10700 Olson Memorial Highway
Minneapolis, MN 55441
National Council on Alcoholism
733 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10017
Copyright © 1989 by Christianity Today
