The writer of this article, of which this is the second and concluding installment, states: “If there are only to who read this who are exercising their Christian liberty in drinking, as I did, I want to add a personal word. Don’t assume you can walk the road at no risk. One of you already is in trouble, but not yet ready to say so. I know . . . .”

No Christian can deny drinking into drunkenness is a sin.

I know of many who have consumed countless more gallons of alcohol than I, who enjoy getting a little drunk or even sloppy drunk, who haven’t become alcoholics. They can still make a decision to stop at will. On the other hand, I know many who drank far less than I who are dead alcoholics.

As it happened, I never sought to become drunk I detested that feeling. My pattern was an ever-increasing reliance on alcohol as a tranquilizer eventually seeking total oblivion with alcohol—when I could not cope with problems that proved beyond solution. One time, with several months of abstinence after admitting I was an alcoholic, in my pride I gulped a few drinks to meet a crisis, thinking I could “still” handle a few and remain sober. Relief from my emotional crisis did not come fast enough and I took more. I almost killed myself drinking when I felt myself getting “drunk” and sought oblivion.

I do not deny I was a sinful fool on that April Fool’s day in 1969. The next day I learned I had consumed almost a quart of booze—enough to kill a person only four inches shorter than I and about 25 pounds less in weight. A year earlier, trippling but remaining sober, I could have met the crisis with no more than a drink or two. I do not minimize the sin involved. Yet, I must add that my impulsive drinking to avoid “feeling drunk” at some point became insanity. My last memory of that night was a feeling of becoming tipsy and gulping a little more so I would not care. Am I making light of sin in saying my drinking had made me a sick sinner?

Let nobody think I am now “cured.” For reasons we do not yet understand, I can never be “normal” again and “take it or leave it.” As an alcoholic, both my psyche and my soma are permanently and irreversibly warped. All the alcoholics I know who tried to prove otherwise are dead.

As some approach salvation, right to the point of admitting I was totally defeated, beyond any human hope, I had included God in my prayers so I could claim victory over booze. Now my only hope of not dying as a drinking alcoholic is to admit always my powerlessness over alcohol-day by day, and as necessary, hour by hour or minute by minute. A victor? No, I’m still an alcoholic. Today, again, I was sober, but can take none of the credit. That is God’s.

As many know, I received recovery from alcoholism at Calvary Rehabilitation Center in Phoenix. I went there for “help,” still thinking of victory. I remember Rev. Duane Visser, then chaplain, telling me he was as powerless as I had proved I was over alcohol. In complete surrender, God would give sobriety day by day. Others had tried so hard to “help”; here was a man of God saying he could not help give me sobriety. The power was God’s.

He then pledged he would do what he could to help me regain the wholeness that had been shattered. He dedicated himself to the healing ministry. No quibbling over wounds, sickness, or consequences. He knew where I “hurt”; helped me see the damage; and, under God, did what he could to help in restoration. At no time did he claim any part of the credit for my new-found sobriety. That he gave to God alone. I owe lifelong gratitude to Chaplain Duane in his ministry of healing, and lifelong respect for his humility in not even trying to “help” where God alone was needed.

This may help understanding—I haven’t had a drink since two days before I entered Calvary Rehab. I was not drunk when I entered, did not drink, yet needed treatment and did not feel fully normal for two years. Dry before, during and after—recovering from alcoholism the sickness. Alcoholism is not the sin, but the result of sin.

When 1 graduated from Calvin College in the mid-40’s I was a total abstainer. When I was assumed by many to deny thereby the Biblical principles of Christian liberty, I became a social drinker. At that time about 1 in 20 became alcoholics. When I received sobriety, it was about 1 in 13; now, 1 in 10.

I sometimes wonder what Paul would have said about Christian liberty if one in 10 eating meat offered to idols risked death.

Every drinker assumes the same position I did: “Not me.” I took the cocky stance of a Peter when warned about the cock-crowing deadline: “I will not.” Peter, too, had majority support in his pride: “and so said the rest of the disciples.”

Somehow 9 of 10 can drink and not become alcoholics. In the story of Peter, however, the emphasis is on the 1 in 12 (or had it become one in 11) who was the most sure of immunity.

I approached alcohol as Peter approached the cursing courtyard. They, yes. Me, never.

While retyping this I took a break to use a machine to make photo-copies of something I had written on alcoholism. The heading of each page was obvious to the man next to me, the damning word: ALCOHOLISM.

In a potentially-embarrassing moment, where many react as though I could set off an epidemic, I have found it best to admit casually, ‘“I’m an alcoholic.”

“So am I,” he said. “Watcha doin?”

“Trying to gain a better understanding among church members about alcoholism,” I said.

“To hell with churches,” he shouted. “All the church told me was that I was going to hell. When God gave me sobriety, they wanted no part of me as long as I said I was still an alcoholic.” I started to speak; he cut me off. “God gave me sobriety; I won’t let the church take it away.”

I do not share his view, but I “understand.”

I remember the Graham column ultimatum: No alcoholic can enter heaven. I know Christians who are bitter their “help” did not help; the sober alcoholic gives all credit to God alone. Some regard any alcoholic as no more than a drunken bum, a blot the body of Christ docs not need. Those who have had little or no contact with a Christian alcoholic see the word “alcoholic” as a camouflage for “sin.” Some, who emphasize the sin, make clear the real problem was stupidity. (I can now find it amusing when some Christians talk to me as though English were not my native tongue, explaining even the simplest words to me.) I have discovered that if only I had claimed victory over a temporary problem, a winner rather than a total loser, I could be more “acceptable.” I know from personal experience as well as from the reports of others the condescending “even-though” welcome to a worship service.

I went “public” knowing all this, seeking understanding where it should be most Christlike. When I use the word “I” it is as a spokesman for others. I know Christian alcoholics who have taken non-Christians into their confidence, but would never dare shed their anonymity in the church of Christ.

There are Christian alcoholics who have given up on the church; they sought fellowship, got insults and rebuffs. There are ministers of the gospel who have spent hours and hours trying and failing to “help” the alcoholic back into sobriety; and then A. A. pointed the way: Only God; no human power, yours or that of others. Is the resentment the alcoholic feels real or imagined?

I must keep my perspective; in seeking to gain understanding, I seek out the problem areas. They involve some—certainly not all—Christians.

One thing does “disturb” me as an alcoholic Christian reared in a Calvinist heritage and still a Calvinist. In this era of super-super-bowl winners, there has been a rub-off on the church—a disdain for losers and a craving for winners.

Even the amazing grace I received in defeat does not make me somebody special, you see. Any alcoholic can be given it, as a loser. That grace is infinite; none ever “used up.” Any sinner can be given it, as a loser.

With the co-founder of A.A., an outspoken Christian alcoholic, it is no wonder that the prayer of our Lord is used by A.A. the world over. Alcoholic Christians sense “surrender” in every phrase.

Last night one of the much-earlier grads of Calvary Rehab Center said to me, “Isn‘t it wonderful how God can make our past into such a daily blessing?”

As I reviewed the list in Paul’s 6rst letter to the Corinthians (verse 10, chapter 6), I realized how easily most could claim victory. Sexual immorality can be stopped; idolaters can drop their faith in false gods; homosexuals can abstain; thieves can become ex-offenders; the greedy can become philanthropists; slanderers can keep their mouths shut. Drunks can sober up -at least until they become alcoholics. Alcoholics are, by definition, totally powerless. No human victory.

As said, I seek no arguments; I do seek understanding.

If there are only 10 who read this who are exercising their Christian liberty in drinking, as I did, I want to add a personal word. Don’t assume you can walk the road at no risk. One of you already is in trouble, but not yet ready to say so. I know. One of you may be drinking “a little too much” because of problems. All of us know exactly what you mean. You know you aren’t going to be so stupid and get as sick as I did. Well, you don’t have to find out, you know. Maybe like me, you‘re not a quitter, still planning victory. Going on the wagon for a while proves nothing, except that a person with no problem has nothing to prove.

Excuse me for writing so personally in what is really a postscript. Today 1 got a letter from a minister in Texas. Something I had written had entered his home. He realized it was never too early to admit defeat, and it could be too late. He gave up. God took over. This minister of the Gospel can be more grateful than I—he did not have to hurt so bad, he lost nothing—except his pride. “Recovered,” he wrote with joy. As only we can understand, he does not “need” a drink today. God has forgiven and forgotten, and nobody needed to know. Just God.