More on a Church in Recovery…

AAIn a previous post, I wrote a little about my experience with 12 step recovery and the Friends Church. I tried to show AA and NA at their best, not malign them as some cult as many web sites tend to. I also made the assertion that many of the principals in the 12 steps and Traditions that enable AA and NA to be so effective were borrowed from the church by the founders of AA, and that the church has suffered much from losing its own  forgotten wisdom. It is time to borrow these things back, and re-adapt them into the ethos of our churches. If you missed it, I encourage you to read the previous post linked above. Following it, Micah Bales, the author of the Quaker blog The Lambs War, thoughtfully responded to that post with his post that sought to connect with how some of this would look in his own  community of faith. It was an online  conversation that connected and engaged so many streams of my life, and one I would love to begin anew. Unfortunately, as the end of the semester insanity began to boil over a bit, my response to his got lost in the fray. In this post I want to flesh out a little more what that looks like in the context of a community by  highlighting  a few the positive aspects of the culture that is created by living out these principals of recovery in the church.

The Newcomer is the Most Important Person in the Room

In the church, there is supposed to be a downward race to the bottom. As Jesus said, “The person who is least among you is the greatest.” In recovery groups, this is recognizable and tangible, not something spoken of in the nostalgic terms of idealism. The person who walks through the door of an AA meeting and who likely does not know anything yet about living “in the solution,” is given a formal opportunity to state their name and be welcomed by the group. Often, as people share their stories, they also speak directly to the newcomer by name. Many of those who share  “re-welcome” the newcomer, invite them to listen, explain their hopes that they would hear some of their story there, or something else that would keep them coming back. Newcomers are constantly reminded they are wanted and welcome. People even say things like “glad you showed up tonight, even “welcome home.” They make sure the newcomers realize that they are the most important person in the room (actually saying that), that the group exists for them, and that the struggles they are currently facing that brought them through that door are the most important thing going on in the life of the group.

I was asked once to be a member of the welcoming committee of my church. It was a lot of fun meeting new people, making sure they knew they were noticed, sitting next to these newcomers at church and introducing them to people. But it made me wonder why we have to ask people to be responsible for this. Why is it that new people are regularly ignored? It is so easy to busily say hello to old friends we already know and completely neglect the newcomer. Often, we miss hearing their story because we are so focused on making sure they hear ours. One thing a church in recovery needs desperately is to tear down the walls of cliquey-ness that value people more on what they have to offer rather than just loving people where they are at. We need to break through the blinders of seeing human potential in relation to the great “worship machine” and compassionately be available in the moment with these strangers God invites into our meetings. If we really want to be a church that is relevant to the world outside our doors, let us at least “practice” on those who are new that venture within them. We need to be willing to sit with someone else, talk with someone else, listen to someone else. We need to try and figure out what makes them tick and what they are passionate about. We need to hear their story and engage it, not simply learn enough to classify their “worth” by where they work, and who they are related to that matters to us. It is as if we are saying between the lines, “you are only important because of what you produce, what class you are, and what important people in my life you matter to.” If someone is hurting and looking for answers, formalities are not going to help them. Also, they should not be forced to prove that they will keep coming back before we will listen to their struggles and care about who they really are. This brings me to the next thing…

Radical Honesty

People in recovery groups are radically honest. Radical honesty is an ingredient in any conception of a childlike faith, but it is not one we want to really deal with in church. People at AA often openly question my beliefs, tell me my religion is worthless, or see my  ministry as some kind of manipulation attempt, but I wouldn’t trade that for courteous passivity on my worst day. At least anti-religious people know what they don’t believe and are willing to get passionate about it. Radical honesty makes room for what is in a person’s heart to come out. I remember wanting to punch this biker guy in the face when he caricatured my desire to be a youth pastor with those of a pedophilic priest. Reflecting back on our conversation later, it seemed clear that he was wounded by Christianity, not merely being a jerk. Under the veil of superficiality at church, people keep baggage in white washed tombs that will never see the light of day, and never be prayed about in community. While many people in the church are not comfortable with radical honesty, it is the basis of any true relationship, and the main component of trust.

Barna called the church a mile wide and an inch deep. The reason this is so is because we have made it something more like the Rotary Club than the church of the Living God. For the church to be a true community, we must get past “hello” and “the weather” and be willing to wrestle with sin together in safety. It is virtually guaranteed that this will make us uncomfortable. Truth stings, but like that trip to the dentist chair, some pain can be redemptive and is necessary for the un-redemptive pain to end. We must all chose whether we will deal with pain alone–isolated by fear and pride–or whether we will share that pain in community and bear each others burdens in prayer. This might even lead to –gasp–confession, which we have all but done away with in the Quaker church. Superficiality really is the curse of our age. To be a church in recovery we must learn not to silence the prophets, dreamers, and “bull in a china shop’s for God” among us. We must not table certain questions or hide our doubts. An inconvenient truth is far better than denial on any day of the week. We speak often in the church of “authentic relationships,” but then sweep tensions under the rug of false peace, rather than endure the pain of breaking beneath what festers below the surface of our communities. Healing will not come otherwise. As in Friedberg’s theory, if we are not careful we can look a lot like a bunch of anxious people turning against those brave enough to share the truth with us.

Spiritual Progress rather than Spiritual Perfection

One thing I have grown to appreciate about AA is its reluctance to adopt a “theology of arrival.” At times, the church does not embrace a teachable spirit, whether that works out in legalism that errs toward the Right or the Left. I was talking with a friend recently about models of spiritual growth and conversion. My friend Kate pointed out that most people’s journey to God involves a process that starts with acceptance/membership, then moves to changing behavior, and finally toward a change of beliefs, yet the church pushes the opposite view, one in which beliefs must change first, then behavior, and them acceptance/membership is offered. This forces people to have all their ducks in a row before we are willing to commit! And worse yet, it forces people to expect from themselves the fruits of a life lived by the Spirit overnight. We should not be surprised that someone would come away from that experience wounded by legalism, burned by superficiality, or feeling judgment from the church. I felt that way as a new Christian who smoked. I felt that unless I got that particular addiction fixed right away, that I was a big disappointment to God. This actually had nothing to do with anyone telling me I should quit (they didn’t have to), but as I tried and failed over and over, it became easier to just fake success. I expected an instantaneous change, but it actually came slowly and painfully a few years later. What I actually needed was a Christian in my life who would not treat me like a leper because I still struggled with addiction. Now I will happily stand next to that smoker brave enough to do so openly. I would rather pick up cigarette butts and clean out smelly ashtrays in the parking lot than to push someone to deal with a problem God has not yet initiated. Progress is enough, even if it is inward and hard to measure. Let us trust God to convict people of sin, and simply be faithful when they come and ask us about how to walk that road to freedom.

Wanting “What Someone Else has to Offer”

In recovery groups, there is an expectation for both accountability and discipleship. Because people often come into the group fresh from desperate circumstances, each new person receives a piece of paper that has been passed around until it is transformed into a “phone list.” A newcomer who is brave enough to admit so will literally walk away from a meeting with the phone number of everyone in the room of their same gender. Right off the bat at an AA meeting, there is the possibility for those who attend that someone who struggles may call you some time soon, and not just to shoot the breeze, but possibly to help them dump a bunch of booze down their sink to stay sober yet another day. Imagine if church were like this! It probably would be if we were actually a safe community who could be trusted not to gossip.

What is more, there is an expectation that someone new who sees God working in your life might ask you into a discipleship-esque relationship called “sponsorship.” You, of course can say no, and the arrangement can end at any time, but there is a strong culture of mentoring in recovery groups. It is ok-no expected- that every person in the program would both be a sponsor and be someone else’s’ sponsor, when they heal enough to be able to do so and give back. As they often say, “You can only keep what you have by giving it away.” We are called to lose our lives, for Christ’s sake, in order to find them, not to shop around for churches that offer us just the right programs for us to consume. I would be willing to bet people are taking their high schooler’s elsewhere, not because we don’t have enough summer camps and fog machines, but because we are pretty crummy at discipleship.

I personally know people who have had AA’s unique brand of discipleship functioning in their lives for decades. While this is far from a perfect system of discipleship, the very DNA of recovery groups hinges on a system of the older passing wisdom onto the younger. Why is it that in the church, mentoring and discipleship are seen as optional? Should we really be surprised that the church is declining, if the odds of finding any formal discipleship/disciple-making relationship are around 100 to one? A recovering church is one that invites this relationship, one that invests in people to better and empower them, and that intentionally holds out a hand so that no one (short of their own desire to do so) falls through the cracks. People often look down on the Navigators for their bible memorization system of discipleship, but what do we offer instead? Jesus had disciples follow Him around for a few years… both Jesus and George Fox sent people out by twos, but what are we supposed to do in the Friends Church if we seriously want discipleship in our lives? Hopefully we can do more than handing someone a pamphlet, or even a great book. That surely cannot be our Quaker discipleship “model.”

Living One Day at a Time

I am a future oriented person. This trait, the ability to anticipate and “game theory” the future, and to intuitively adapt in real time, is a celebrated one. There are of course good things about how God created my mind to function with a future orientation. We definitely need vision casters and dreamers. After all, you don’t throw a football to where a running back is, but where he/she will be. Yet there is something a bit like that “old timey” Quaker simplicity in  AA’s focus on living one day at a time, even one moment at a time. One of my favorite Quakers, Thomas Kelly, helped me to see this, but recovery groups actually live and breathe it. To a person in recovery, dependence on God’s grace is a living, breathing, moment by moment reality. In recovery, tomorrow’s sobriety is guaranteed to no one and many people I have known and loved have died, ended up in prison, or even gone completely insane because of poor choices that stemmed from one really bad day’s frustrations.

In the church, we do not live one day at a time, it is all about the five year plan. We repeat Jesus’ words about “tomorrow having enough trouble all its own” yet we seem completely incapable of living in the  now. We look fondly on our Quaker heritage and legacy, or we gaze into our crystal balls about the next big thing, but we have precious little attention span for the moment. While even the most desperate recovering drug addict has a plan for the future, I love being a part of a people who hold things so loosely. A people who will drop everything to help someone who is reaching out. A people desperately hoping to be faithful when the opportunity to do “the next right thing” presents itself in our lives One hallmark of a church in recovery, is that it refuses to take itself too seriously, and refuses to take the future more seriously than the present.

All we really have is now, tomorrow will take care of itself. Having a budget or an order of service is fine, but we as a people of faith need to relearn how to steward one day at a time. When our structures become cogs in a mindless “worship machine,” we have lost this. When we attempt to guilt people into “committing” to a certain committee because “we have always done it that way” we have lost more than we realize. God may be calling us to lay down our sermon series or liturgy, He may want us to do something radically different. It is a no brainer that we should give Him permission. It is time to die a daily death to tomorrow today, for as any recovery addict or alcoholic knows, most of the things in our heads we dreaded about tomorrow often never come to pass anyway.

These are just a few observation of things the Friends movement and wider church could gain from fostering an ethos of recovery, a reawakening of the awareness of  what it means to experience salvation in the present moment. It is not an exhaustive list by any means. If you are a Quaker, or other tribe of Christian who has experienced following Christ through a 12 step recovery program, what might you add?

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About jtower11

Hi there! I am James Tower: A husband, father, dreamer, visionary, thinker, poet, mystic, metal-worker, and scholar. A former atheist trying to find my way as a Quaker minister. A former drop-out trying to find my way through an M. Div program at George Fox. A former addict who, over twelve years ago had a life changing encounter with Jesus that has altered the course of my life forever. I am a creative person called to pastoral ministry, spiritual direction and discipleship. I love "conversations of consequence" with people who are willing to wrestle through the deeper truths and messiness of life. I have found God in my brokenness, and He has shown me how to use that personal knowledge to work toward healing and reconciliation with others. I love the outdoors, camping and recreation, an eclectic blend of music and arts, and creativity in general. I am passionate about expressing my faith in Jesus, and allowing God to transform every area of my life and every decision I make. Together with my wife Liz and daughters Sophie and Greta, we are on a journey to figure out where, when, and how to live out the call God has placed in our hearts. For more about me check out the "about" or "my story" pages. View all posts by jtower11

7 responses to “More on a Church in Recovery…

  • Tommee Carlisle

    I don’t have time to say more than this right now: I am 33 years sober from alcoholism. I found God and a sober, sane way of life in AA. I am 10 months into being a Quaker attender participating fully in the life of a non-programmed meeting. I noticed at once the similarities between Friends’ spiritual practice and AA spiritual practice. I also have fully experienced all that you speak of…and I like the frame of church in recovery. I long for discipleship, and doing what Jesus told us to do in the world. Thank you for this post. Also, the one on Human Trafficking. Posting on my FB page.

    • jtower11

      Thank you Tommee. I am glad I am not the only one, thanks for letting me know I am not alone on the road. May God bless you as you follow Jesus through the 12 steps, and find your place in the Family of Friends.

  • alcohol rehab centers

    I am having to prepare a presentation based on the use of alcohol following some kind
    of trauma. Alcohol primarily being used to erase the memory and help you forget the
    trauma. If anyone has any experience in this I would be grateful for some insight into you experience.

    Information will be treated very sensitively. I am a student nurse
    and it would help me understand and provide some insight so that I
    can give a realistic view point of the problems some people encounter in
    their recovery and how the adjust and cope. Thank you

    • jtower11

      Hi. I prefer AA, but my withdrawl experience was mostly from other substances. Perhaps others who read this post may contribute to your learning. Thanks!

  • mouse click the next page

    I picked up my pack of 20 cigarettes that I bought
    the night before, got a pair of scissors and cut the
    pack to shreds. I discovered–this last time when I was determined
    to quit–that I needed to change my thinking in order to change my behavior (smoking).

    So, I had to come to the realization that I had nearly died from a habit I
    had told myself I really enjoyed.

    • jtower11

      Glad to hear it, there are much cooler ways to die. I watched my grandmother die slowly from emphysema, and it still took me three years to gain the wisdom you have found. I hope you find victory in your struggle. I had a pretty rough go with that particular battle. I am praying for your journey.

  • mariellen gilpin

    Hi Jim,

    I got my start toward recovery from mental illness after four years of listening to doctors telling me, “Just take your pills, Honey.” Almost with the very first meeting of the 12 Step-based group, called GROW, I began to hope again: these people were working on themselves and getting better. Neither the one nor the other was evident in the doctors’ offices (or their waiting rooms). I was part of my GROW group for six years, and for three years I was the group leader (called an organizer). I stopped attending in 1990 because I’d learned what I needed to know in order to continue getting better. The GROW program continues to influence the way I choose to live my life.

    One of the useful things I continue to practice is summed up in the GROW program this way: “The opposite of an error is usually the opposite error.” This is a good antidote to our society’s tendency to prefer either-or thinking about complex problems. This is a both-and kind of universe we’re in. That doesn’t mean there are no boundaries, far from it, but it does mean I have resolved to think things through more carefully when people are shouting at each other, for instance. Or shouting at me to think about and do things their way.

    Another useful guideline: “If you don’t live the way you think is right, soon you’ll be thinking the way you’re living is right.” The point is that a bad habit is very easy to defend against all comers, just because bad habits are really hard to change. Why go to all that bother? Being reminded that hard as it will be to change, with all those discouraging ups and downs, just knowing you’re on the road to a better way of life is a source of joy.

    Here’s a lollapalooza: “If a thing is worth doing, it’s worth doing badly — for a start, and while you’re improving.” This principle helps me move beyond that childhood shaming, and to focus on learning from each of my (many, many!) mistakes on that road to a better way of life. A related GROW principle is, “Resume quickly without fuss.” The point there is to save your energy for getting better, rather than for dumping on yourself for messing up once again.

    And another GROW principle I really love is this: “God mostly doesn’t change things. He changes people so they can change things.” i consider my recovery from mental illness the result of not one miracle, but a whole series of miracles. BUT, I also worked very hard for those miracles. Why was it necessary to work hard? Well, if God had waved a wand and made me well, but I still had all those bad habits of thought and action, how long would I have stayed well? Maybe thirty seconds, if I were lucky. By working hard to change my faulty thinking, staying well is second nature.

    Blessings on your work, Jim Tower. I enjoy your blog.

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