By Talia Gordon

Founded in 1935, Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) was among the first formally established fellowships solely dedicated to attaining – and maintaining – sobriety. Today, the organization and its tenets have famously come to represent a tried-and-true model for recovery from alcoholism. Popularly depicted in television shows and movies as often-somber church-basement gatherings, AA group meetings have become iconic representations of support-group subculture, and of what the road to sobriety might look like.

However, these dismal depictions are rarely congruent with the positive experiences of scores of people who have considered themselves part of the AA fellowship over the past 70 years. Unfortunately, for many people (alcoholics or otherwise), AA has remained shrouded in secrecy and membership or meeting attendance stigmatized by shame. The double-edged social stigma of alcoholism and abstinence as well as the negative portrayal of AA in popular culture has deterred many would-be sobriety seekers from attending a first meeting.

When I contacted Roger, the AA Toronto Agnostics website administrator about attending an open meeting as a writer, his response was immediately enthusiastic: “Yes, you can come – it’s a great meeting!” In a later telephone conversation reiterating his encouragement, he added kindly, perhaps in unspoken reference to assumptions I might have: “Of course, you must be terrified.”

I had assured Roger otherwise, but as I walked toward the First Unitarian Congregation on Tuesday evening, my heart was pounding. After I found the meeting room and joined the seated circle of people, the first name call-and-answer introductions began: “I’m John, and I’m an alcoholic.”  “Hi John!” and so forth. When it was my turn, I stuttered out my name and my reason for attendance, to which everyone responded, “Hi Talia!” After the introductions finished, however, a fellow raised his hand in protest; he felt that my presence at the meeting was inappropriate, and in violation of the principles of AA’s twelve traditions.

As he spoke, I was overcome with shame at realizing my imposition – how my presence could be a rude intrusion into the sacred space cultivated by a common experience I did not share. But as I stood up to gather my things, a chorus of voices erupted protesting my departure. The woman beside me reminded the group, “We do things by consensus here.” As others responded emphatically that my presence was welcome, it was decided that I should stay.

The meeting began and people took turns sharing their thoughts and feelings on the three topics elected for discussion: compassion, anonymity and public controversy. A far cry from dreary scenes of folding-chair circuits of despondent strangers, the meeting atmosphere was warm and comfortable, marked by a strong undercurrent of mutual respect and friendship. The topic that drew the most attention was public controversy – sparked by the discussion about my place at the meeting and the involvement of the media in a recent conflict within the Greater Toronto Area Intergroup of AA.

The conflict, which involved the removal of the agnostic branches of AA, including We Agnostics (whose meeting I attended that evening) and Beyond Belief from the GTA Intergroup official roster of meetings, was made public last summer in a Toronto Star article. Torontonian members of AA felt that the city’s agnostic groups had diverged from the traditional doctrine through their modification of the “Twelve Steps” to exclude the word ‘God.’ However, Toronto’s agnostic AA groups felt that God had no place in their path to sobriety, but wanted to follow the AA framework.

In particular, AA’s success is often linked to adherence to the principles of its “Twelve Steps” program, which has long drawn fire for its religious language and Christian overtones. Historically, AA emerged from the folds of the Oxford Group, a religious Christian movement that emphasized personal salvation through individual conviction, confession and surrender to God. Much of AA’s doctrine and language still echo these principles.

Indeed, the role of religiosity – whether in spiritual belief or devotion to sobriety – is a foundational element of the AA model. For many, however, the inclusion of God in AA’s “Twelve Steps” and other publications has discouraged participation in the program.

Even for those who are initially involved with AA, the agnostic groups can be a welcome alternative. Ylana, 27, came to her first AA meeting when she was 22, six months after finishing her undergraduate degree. For her, the religious aspects of the program held little interest. “At first I blocked it out of my head – a lot of people were talking about God and I didn’t understand what that meant or why they were talking about it. It didn’t have any real meaning for me,” she explained.

For Ylana, it was the community of people she encountered that made AA helpful right from the start. “It was successful because there were a lot of supports and people at the meetings who were really friendly, offered me their number and just held my hand, basically,” she explained. At that point, Ylana was attending meetings every day, where she knew there would be people who she could talk to about her problems. “They all had really, really, similar characteristics and disabilities, and I felt like I could really easily connect and that they could understand me and offer me the kind of advice I needed,” explained Ylana.

However, Ylana began to feel that the language and belief system embedded in the AA doctrine was limiting. “A lot of the meetings had a lecture-like, dogmatic tone to them. It felt like people were saying the same clichés; they seemed to just fall back on things that they’d read or things they’d heard and it just didn’t sound real – or as real or open,” she explained. While the sense of camaraderie rooted in the shared experience of alcoholism remained, Ylana became interested in finding people who were open to discussing topics that veered away from the AA’s rigid spirituality and doctrine of self-improvement through connection to God.

“I stumbled upon the agnostic meeting, and what I liked about it was that they were more open to just talking, to exploring philosophies and ideas with a more open mind. It felt more comfortable, less like church,” said Ylana. She felt that the traditional AA meetings were too “formulaic,” and described sometimes feeling alienated, “I just stopped going to meetings, because I thought ‘Okay, I don’t feel like having this conversation anymore.’ I thought, ‘I don’t want to drink but I don’t want to follow this either.” Through the agnostic groups, Ylana was able to find people whose ideologies and experiences were more resonant with her own.

As the conversation continued at the We Agnostics meeting Tuesday night, people offered their thoughts on the place of the group under the broader AA umbrella and discussed the ways that anonymity can sometimes perpetuate the stigma around alcoholism. Many addressed me directly, warmly and thanked me for coming. When it came to the gentleman who had earlier expressed discomfort with my presence at the meeting, he elaborated his concern, “You can’t just come to one meeting and think you know what AA is all about; you could come to ten meetings and still have no idea. I’ve been coming to meetings for 33 years and I’m still figuring it out.”

His words struck me powerfully. In attending, I had sought to capture at the very least, a facet of the AA experience, and to break open the misconceptions that might prevent people from coming to meetings. I had hoped perhaps, to gain a better understanding of the agnostic approach to the AA model. That evening, as a stranger – an observer and an outsider – I found myself folded into the atmosphere of collectivity and support created by the people who welcomed me and shared with one another that night. Certainly, the human experience of acceptance and connection is the fabric of the AA experience. 

What follows are the reflections of an agnostic in LA on how the program of AA works. The reflections first address the orthodox theory of the program, which requires a belief in God, then suggests a willow tree bark understanding of the workings of the program, and concludes with a Stoic’s understanding of the essential and underlying principle in recovery from alcoholism: an acceptance of Life on Life’s Terms.

AA Orthodoxy

Orthodoxy, from Greek orthos (“right”, “true”, “straight”) + doxa (“opinion” or “belief”, related to dokein, “to think”), i.e., right thinking or belief.

Frantic orthodoxy is never rooted in faith but in doubt. It is when we are unsure that we are doubly sure.

― Reinhold Niebuhr, author of the Serenity Prayer

AA has a traditional theory of how and why its program works. That theory, as espoused by its founders, is broadly that AA’s steps are a means to access and utilize a Power greater than human. This Power is reached through certain actions. It enables other actions. It benignly directs our actions in recovery and life, if we allow it to. And it heals us in proportion to our efforts.

That’s the theory. Our more religious members think of this Power as God. And honestly, I’m okay with that. I understand it as metaphor and myth, and I know it has the potential to drive transforming action in those who embrace it. The trouble comes when the fellowship elevates that theory to the level of AA orthodoxy.

That’s because orthodoxy by necessity narrows the channel of expression. And whenever and wherever this interferes with the transmission of spiritual principles, orthodoxy serves only to defeat its own purpose. Historically, some amount of codifying appears necessary to pass on any teaching. But the finger that points to the moon is not the moon. The words that describe what for lack of a better term we call “spiritual” principles are not those principles. They are symbols, no more.

So we recognize that what has been written in AA literature is a relic of sorts. Ink stained paper. But when we put the healing principles represented there into action today, they come alive. That is a kind of goodness that once lived in one person and is reborn in another. That is AA fulfilling its primary purpose.

And if AA today is indeed a living thing, and not just the bones of its founders, then AA itself, in the embodiment of its general fellowship, has to practice the same life virtues that we all do. And first among these is humility. We honor that virtue when we recognize that we still know but a little. Which, amazingly, includes this whole idea of just how and why the program works when it does.

I personally came to believe that the God as a supernatural Being theory of why AA worked was deficient. For one thing, the idea that the King of the Universe had finally, after eons of human misery, deigned to offer a conditional solution to the disease which He himself must have created–this was completely absurd.

On top of that, I’d given it a very fair shot. Several years of daily prayer, and using “God as I understood Him” to direct my actions in the final result didn’t work for me. The God idea neither informed nor inspired me personally. I could not obtain spiritual growth there, without which my recovery lost momentum and eventually toppled.

In time I found a way to realize the intention of the steps without anything that could fairly be called “God” in my life. And I got better. So if it wasn’t God working through the Steps (and for me, clearly it wasn’t), why were so many convinced that it was? And what was it really?

The Willow Tree Bark

Well consider the following analogy. Say you believe the God of Headaches lives in willow trees, and that you can access this god’s power by drinking a tea made from willow bark. It’s a theory. You drink the bark tea and your headache goes away. Every time. That’s proof of the theory, right?

Not exactly. We can laugh at such thinking because we understand that willow bark contains the chemical that in its refined form we call aspirin. But really, that kind of reasoning is equivalent to how the orthodox, supernatural view of the Steps and their efficacy is supported.

My own belief today, as you surely can guess, is that we’re not accessing a supernatural Being’s power by doing the Steps. There’s ”aspirin” in there. That’s all.

What precisely is that metaphorical aspirin? For me it is the principles of honesty, humility, love, and service when put into action. And the willingness to place something true and steady, like the wisdom of the group, before and above my unguided thoughts and feelings of the moment. Simple. Comprehensible. Tangible. No magical Spirit in the tree, just good medicine.

Of course, this understanding of the Steps doesn’t always sit well with more conservative, more orthodox members of AA. And yet, there exists common ground between these seemingly incompatible views. The supernatural and the naturalistic. It’s an idea so ubiquitous in recovery that I had stopped seeing it for a time. Like a coin that’s been passed around long enough, the writing had worn off nearly completely. Few of us, I discovered, looked at it very closely anymore. That’s the problem with slogans.

 Life on Life’s Terms

There it was all along, in yet another well-worn slogan: Life on life’s terms. For that is the defining and common task that lies before each of us in recovery. Learning to live, as the Stoics would have put it, in accordance with nature. Regardless of what or who you believe might be nature’s author. The challenge is still the same, in any case.

But to meet this challenge, to actually achieve some compliance with life’s terms, you have to come to some understanding of what they are. No small task in itself. So what are these terms?

This is my own understanding, still evolving. As an alcoholic, life is not offering me the option to drink moderately. As a human, life will not grant me any reliable picture of the future, nor any permanence, nor any control over much but my own choices. I will learn only by testing my limits and my ideas, and some failure will be certain and at times painful.

I will not be able to change the things I’m having feelings about by manipulating my feelings. Not with chemicals, or sex, or any other form of evasion.

I will be separated from the things and people I love by distance and by death. And I will be forced to spend precious minutes in the company of fools, and one of them will at times be me.

But I will be able to appreciate, and even to create some beauty. I will be allowed to love, and to forgive. I will be awed by you and what you can show me that I couldn’t see through my own eyes. I will have my triumphs, and we will revel in them. I will have my losses and you will console me.

And I will laugh in appreciation of our stumbling humanity, our courage, our insane hope in the face of everything that’s stacked against us.

All in all, it’s a fair offer. And I sign that contract every day I embrace my sober life. Not on some terms of my own making, but in full and grateful compliance with the reality of this lovely and astonishing world.

]]> http://aatorontoagnostics.org/2012/05/13/the-willow-tree-bark/feed/ 4 http://aatorontoagnostics.org/2012/05/06/another-agnostic-group-ousted/ http://aatorontoagnostics.org/2012/05/06/another-agnostic-group-ousted/#comments Sun, 06 May 2012 18:38:57 +0000 Roger C http://aatorontoagnostics.org/?p=1906 Continue reading →]]> By Roger C.

In the rooms of AA – A third agnostic AA group has been expelled by Intergroup in Toronto.

On April 24, Widening Our Gateway, which had been a member of the Greater Toronto Area (GTA) Intergroup since its first meeting on October 16, 2011, was officially “suspended from any involvement at Toronto Intergroup” by a vote of 27 to 17.

Of course, there were arguments for and against the motion.

Hands down, the agnostics won that argument. How can you lose when you have the Third Tradition on your side? Here’s the long form: “Our membership ought to include all who suffer from alcoholism. Hence we may refuse none who wish to recover. Nor ought AA membership ever depend upon money or conformity. Any two or three alcoholics gathered together for sobriety may call themselves an AA group, provided that, as a group, they have no other affiliation.”

Still, the group – which considers itself a “Freethinkers” group in AA - read a secular version of the 12 Steps. Bear in mind that the group read the original steps first, as they were published, and then read a secular version of some of the steps, removing from them the ”God” word.

Wouldn’t that be grounds for eviction? Surely you can’t change the Steps just because you feel like it: the Steps are in the Big Book!

Not grounds for eviction at all. Bill was at pains to emphasize that they were “suggested” steps only. Open for interpretation. Toss them out entirely, if you want. You will still be a member of AA. And still a group in AA. Here’s more of what the co-founder of AA said:

To some of us, the idea of substituting “good” for “God” in the Twelve Steps may seem like a watering down of AA’s message. But here we must remember that AA’s Steps are suggestions only. A belief in them as they stand is not at all a requirement for membership among us. This liberty has made AA available to thousands who never would have tried at all, had we insisted on the Twelve Steps just as written. (Alcoholics Anonymous Comes of Age, p. 81)

But! You can almost hear the flustered anti-agnostic stuttering, looking for a rebuttal.

But nothing.

There is simply no justification in AA for the behaviour of the Toronto Intergroup. The Traditions were written to prevent one group of people from booting another group of people out of AA, including any of its regional service organizations.

So if the members of agnostic AA groups win the arguments, how come they keep losing the votes?

Because the representative voting to boot the agnostic AA group off the island isn’t thinking about logic or the Traditions. He worries that newcomers will come into AA not hearing the same message of recovery that he heard when he first arrived. He worries that if the program is changed it might not work. If “God,” “Him” and “Power” were part of the 12 Steps for him, and they worked, then “God,” “Him” and “Power” must not be removed.

Agnostics in AA understand this concern.

But here’s the thing: “God,” “Him” and “Power” are not essential to recovery. Certainly “a personality change sufficient to bring about recovery from alcoholism” is essential. (Big Book, Appendix II) But that personality change can result from many different things. The 12 Step program of recovery will always be “the” program of recovery in AA, but the Steps do not need ”God,” “Him” and “Power” in them, and they are only one way – and only suggested at that – of bringing about the personality change that is essential for recovery from alcoholism.

Just one example: A few months ago, Charlie P, the founder in 1978 of the first “We Agnostics” group in AA, died. He was 98. He had 41 years of continuous sobriety. He had been a devoted atheist his whole life, and after starting that meeting in Los Angeles, California, he went on to found another “We Agnostics” group more than twenty years later in Austin, Texas. In the week before his death, an AA meeting was held at his bedside. He died sober. He died an atheist.

There are those in AA who will nevertheless say that if he had lived another ten years he would eventually have picked up a drink because he hadn’t found “God.” You just have to ignore those people, and most of us in AA understand that.

On the streets – Let’s look at this issue of “God,” “Him” and “Power” in AA from another direction.

For the last twenty-two years, there has been no growth in AA’s membership. In January of 2012 the number of members worldwide was recorded at 2,133,842, roughly the same as it was in 1990.

In 1963, by virtue of a decision of the Supreme Court in the United States, the Lord’s Prayer was removed from public schools. In 1988, an Ontario appeals court decision, referencing the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, made a ruling that resulted in the Lord’s Prayer being removed from schools in Canada.

Members still hold hands and recite the Lord’s Prayer at the end of most meetings of AA.

One of the school boards affected by the Ontario appeals court decision was the Toronto District School Board (TDSB). The TDSB is the largest school Board in Canada and the fourth largest in North America. It has nearly 600 schools and serves more than 250,000 students each year. Last year, the Public Information office of the GSO offered to provide the TDSB with copies of the Big Book for its many libraries and guidance counselling offices. The Board refused, even though in the past it has always been happy to accept copies of the Big Book. Even though asked, no reason for the decision was provided.

It’s also worth noting that the alcoholism treatment industry is burgeoning in Toronto. Need to spend a few weeks in rehabilitation? Well, there’s Renascent and Bellwoods and Homewood, a few miles down the road. Homewood recycles 1200 people through its three or four week addiction recovery program every year, and it’s the smallest of the three centres.

The really big name around town, however, and across Ontario, is the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH). It’s actually pronounced as two syllables (CAM-H). These days if you are the average person in Ontario confronting the problem of alcoholism for the first time, you are probably more likely to think of CAMH before you think of AA. A lot of people in this province owe their recovery in part to CAMH, which is noted for not using words in its program like “God,” ”Him” and ”Power.”

All of the above just to say that AA is apparently no longer the only game in town.

And that brings us back to Widening Our Gateway, booted for not using these words in a secular version of the 12 Steps read at its meetings.

We have discussed the vote to expel the group (27 to 17), and at least some of the reasons for that vote.

There are also the inevitable consequences of such a vote, consequences not only felt in the rooms of AA but which also have an impact on how the fellowship is viewed on the streets.

Agnostic groups have a great deal in common with every other group in AA. We all share the belief expressed in the responsibility pledge that it is our job to make sure that the hand of AA is always there for the suffering alcoholic who reaches out for help.

Let this be a gentle suggestion that, in Toronto and in this day and age, booting groups like Widening Our Gateway off of the official meeting list and out of regional meetings may not be the very best way to achieve that goal.

By Rick A.

Do I make it easier or harder for members of AA who may not share my vision of the world?

From time to time, some sub-set sees the world in a way different from the fabled majority. I say fabled because this oft-referenced body of members tends to be as fluid as the seasons. What is the majority today is often an amusing or sad memory tomorrow – like yesterday’s fashion choices.

These sub-sets have included women (yep women, believe it or not), gays and lesbians, alkies who are also addicts, young people, members who came from treatment centers, members who sobered up in jail, members who suffer from mental illnesses, and of course the mother lode – those of religious diversity and dissonance, including but not restricted to non-Christians, agnostics and atheists. In all of these cases there have been movements to oust these groups under the guise of Saving AA From Total Destruction.

Where does this come from, especially in an organization that purports not to care what the new members have done, or where they’ve come from? Our entrance policy is so wide and inclusive that one does not technically HAVE to stop drinking… just profess a (possibly dishonest) desire to do so. The inability of many people to understand persons not having a carbon copy of their own stories is surprising. I often talk about the fact that for most of us the hands of a clock turn clockwise… but not to the person that spends most of their time inside the clock. While this is an overly simple example it does fit for the purposes of this discussion.

This movement to expel all of those failing to conform to the majority point of view, I believe, runs counter to the aims and principles of AA. And I believe it starts with an old friend of us alkies – Fear.

It is said somewhere that we fear those things with which we lack familiarity or understanding and at the end of the day (though I like to fancy myself as worldly and tolerant beyond the norm) the simple fact is I am an alcoholic, and that makes me by description and definition extremely self-centered. True today, and true tomorrow: This is alcoholism, not alcoholwasm.

I remember being that odd ball member who came in and like most of us, based on the stories I have heard, wondered if I would be permitted to stay. Would I face resistance to my hard clutched ideas and delusions, which for me were truths? Like many of us, I learned that in the spirit of Honesty, Open Mindedness, and Willingness the best course was to lie and not let those around me know about the ideas in my head that ran counter to the majority.

There is a group of people which does not realize that when I say that it is essential to be honest, that I really don’t mean it. These are the people who, if they have a problem with any of the program, as in perhaps the God part, it is better for them to keep that to themselves and join in with the majority, lest they be targeted for expulsion. It is usually innocent on my part, mostly just wanting to keep a part of the meeting that has been around for years. And when it is pointed out to me that some find it offensive or uncomfortable, I can unthinkingly say “Well they don’t have to participate in that part of the meeting” or “I am not bothered by that, so why can’t they overlook it?”

Now is that a way to make people feel a part of the fellowship, by suggesting they not join us one hundred per cent? In most cases isn’t the best way for a member to help the newcomer get and stay sober by removing the barriers, real or fancied, that are faced by the new or fringe member?

I remember the older members who told me that I did not need to surrender all of my beliefs, etc. And they said that if I encountered people that did not agree with my way of thinking that I could learn from them. Yet they also told me that I was to talk my recovery program even if the person was from another religion or no religion, was of a different sexual orientation, was from prison, the asylum or the gutter. None of that mattered. The common ground always being the struggles with alcohol and sobriety, I was to help them be comfortable even if I was not comfortable doing it. I, after all, had more sobriety and a support system to help me deal with my aversion to this or that.

In terms of the people, AA has changed a lot since I started, but the program remains unchanged. Today there should be more open-mindedness and perhaps that so-called sacred reading or Lord’s Prayer is no longer as appealing as it once was at meetings. Is my personal preference enough to insist upon making others who do not share my vision of the word feel less then welcome under the guise of “We have always done it that way?”

I think not. After all, I was welcomed in despite my odd ideas and behaviors, beliefs and lack of beliefs. I shudder to think how few of us would be in recovery today if we all had to apply to an entrance panel whose purpose would be to only let in prospective members who fit the mold in terms of actions, thoughts, fears, beliefs or disbelief.

So it is up to me to police my actions and attitudes to ensure that I am able to welcome those prospective members who do not share my views or attitudes, and who may view the world in a totally opposite way. And it us up to me to make these rooms as welcome to them as they are to those prospective members whose views, fears and beliefs reflect my own.

Rick is a mainstream believer, with the priority that AA should be for one and all. Having worked for several years in General Service, he has direct experience of the outrage and ‘fear of cataclysm’ at the times when young people and gay and lesbians sought to gather together in AA meetings and groups. In 1999, when a new member at Rick’s home group in Pickering vociferously objected to all things religious, Rick was instrumental in getting the group to drop the Lord’s Prayer. That ‘new member’ is twelve and a half years sober today.

My name is Joe and I am an alcoholic and a proud member of AA. Step Two is stated, restated and defined several different ways:

• Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity (Big Book)
• Came to believe that a power other than self could restore us to wholeness
• Came to believe and to accept that we needed strengths beyond our awareness and resources to restore us to sanity (Secular Twelve Steps)
• I have found a power that is greater than I am which can restore my sense of peace (Teen Addiction Anonymous – 2008)

There are more. Search the net and help yourself, or write your own. It’s all the same to me. There are different ways to interpret AA’s Step Two. Some freethinkers resist the idea that power is external or supernatural; some resist the idea of powerlessness or the label or the amateur diagnosis of insanity or unmanageably in Step One.

I have heard that as an alcoholic, I walk in the shadows of my twin towers of inferiority complex and ego-mania, or stated another way, fear and grandiosity. I have heard the Steps broken down into triads of four steps, the first four Steps are to discover who I am, the second are to accept who I am and the third are to act like I am. That resonates with me. So self discovery has four stages. What I am was discovered in the simplest of ways in Step One when I discovered and admitted I am an alcoholic. What I am not is the theme of Step Two for me: I am not omnipotent, I am not all-powerful and I can’t control everything, everyone or every situation. Maybe I will even be happier if I let go of my desire to control and my need to not be controlled.

Thank Dog I wasn’t asked to write the Big Book. It still wouldn’t be written yet because I tend to take forever to find the right words. I don’t think I “come to believe.”I think the beliefs I have are unexplainable and inherent, just like a favorite colour. You could explain the merits of your favorite colour and I might agree with you but I don’t think I would change my belief about what my favorite colour is. I treat people who have an absolute belief in god as someone with a different favorite colour than me. To steal from the first one hundred alkies, “They are not at fault. They seem to have been born that way; they are naturally incapable of grasping and developing a manner of” believing that is in line with mine, just as I am naturally incapable of feeling or experiencing faith in the way they do, because I don’t believe there is a god.

I can learn from their experiences and they can learn from mine. But neither of us has a legitimate chance of changing the other’s belief. I can come to understand but I don’t see how I could come to believe. If they meant “come to understand” when they wrote “came to believe” then I am just wrestling with semantics. I won’t presume to know what these dead people meant so I am left to take what they said and see what is true for me. Really, it comes down to how I describe this process because I believe we all have to make it our own to make it infallible. And maybe it is fallible because no matter how sober I am today, relapse could happen tomorrow. This may be true. I am incomplete and I always will be.

I had the great pleasure to talk to someone I will call “Marya” about a book she wrote that I will call, “Waiting: A Nonbelievers Higher Power.” She sees waiting, or praying to nothing if you will, as a spiritual experience. In waiting I understand that I am without all knowledge. I am incomplete and in coming to terms with this truth, I am humbled.

She said this to me: “I think humans are wonderful creatures but we certainly don’t know much. I think that accepting, and not knowing is a spiritual practice. What our minds would like to do is give us the notion that we know everything, we are in control of everything that we can will our way through life and that has certainly not been my experience. My experience has been that if I wait, sometimes the answers come and sometimes they don’t but the exercise of waiting teaches me patience, humility. In my waiting I grow more willing to see where life is going to go, where spirituality grows where connections get made, to see how the world connects or disconnects – that’s what it means to me.”

She also speaks to the idea that striving for wholeness is futile. “What does wholeness mean to you? Do you need to feel attached, complete, saved, well, and perfect? I don’t need to feel that way. I know many people in recovery who accept their incompleteness and the completeness that we do find, or to the extent to which we can find it comes from a spiritual life.”

So if my first four Steps are processes that bring awareness, how do I know I have done Step Two? Well to use the twin towers that leave me in the shadows analogy, they should both be three-story walk-ups by now that let more light through in the course of the day.

In Step One, my tower of fear or inferiority should be smaller; My addiction to alcohol isn’t my fault and it isn’t a moral failing. I have a disease. To put it another way, I used alcohol as a medicine to cure that fear or inferiority complex and I got addicted – that’s not my fault. I need not feel inferior or fearful to the same extent.

In Step Two, I need not be grandiose or egotistical. I don’t have to know all or be all-powerful. I can be incomplete and I can find power or resources beyond my wit and integrity. The journey of understanding is mind expanding. A binary mind only allows me to see good or evil, if it’s not one, it’s clearly the other. If I am inferior than the answer to that is overcompensation. “Either god is everything or he is nothing; what shall it be?” That is binary thinking. Choose sobriety or choose death or institutionalization; that’s binary thinking. Black and white thinking is elementary and maybe sometimes there is a place for it. I expect some of us are hardwired to see life in right and wrong ways. In this state we can still choose healthy over unhealthy, giving over taking etc.

I think pluralistic thinking is healthier for me. Not only are there 360 degrees of possibilities; two realities can coexist, as well. You can be right and I don’t have to be wrong. At the Step Two stage of my recovery, I am seeing that there are more possibilities and that many of them are beyond my view or understanding. It is healthy to accept my limits; I can come to understand that so long as I don’t pretend to know it all, I can learn and do more, including the improbable and maybe the impossible. At Step Two I don’t know I can stay sober. I don’t know how to do that, but I accept that there are answers and if I seek them I need not be afraid of what I will find. In a world of less blame and less self-reliance, I find more sunshine getting through.

This is Joe’s second post on the Steps. You can read his article on Step One here: The Silver Tongued Devil and I. This post is part of a series on the Twelve Steps, our suggested program of recovery. All are welcome to contribute! If you have any thoughts on one or more of the steps, please send them to us (aatorontoagnostics@gmail.com) for sharing right here at AA Toronto Agnostics. 

by the Cyber Sot

One of the many paradoxes of AA is that while we are not a religious organization, nor are we affiliated with one, we sure take our meeting prayers seriously. If you don’t believe me, suggest that your home group change the prayers used at meetings.

Prayer at meetings, specifically the Lord’s Prayer, is a long-running “hot” topic that crops up on a regular basis at AA meetings around the world. To many AAs, the 12 Steps may be, as the Big Book puts it, merely “suggested as a program of recovery,” but the Lord’s Prayer is mandatory.

Here’s what sober AAs – Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Shintoists, Mormons, American Indians, atheists and pagans – have to say about it from around the world, from Ireland to India and Australia to New Zealand. Here too are some thoughts about closing meetings with the Responsibility Declaration, a practice that is growing. The Declaration, or Pledge, we will see later, focuses on what AA is all about.

Surveying AA is like counting grains of sand during a hurricane. Instead, this is an e-mail sampling of responses to some fairly simple questions: What prayers do you use at your meetings? Why? They were sent to AAs and groups around the world.

Nowhere in the Big Book does it say “how” to hold a meeting. Instead we have what some people say is “tradition.” Well, we have 12 Traditions, and the prayers we use at a meeting are not in any of them.

There are numerous arguments for keeping the Lord’s Prayer, dating back to the fact that our founders were Christians and that we are, in some respects, a stepchild of the Oxford Movement. But Bill and Dr. Bob pulled Alcoholics Anonymous out of the Oxford Movement because it was more concerned with converting people to Christianity than getting them sober. It was also a Protestant movement closed to non-Christians, and even Catholics.

If you want to hear more of the arguments, bring it up at your home group. Doug C, reports that in New Zealand, “they usually start and finish with the Serenity Prayer and that’s it. No other prayers are used that I’m aware of. That’s probably because in New Zealand in my experience most AAs stress ‘God of their own understanding,’ so other prayers might be regarded as inappropriate. But that’s just my experience.”

Andy K in India says “There are numerous views about what should and should not be read at the meeting. However, one thing we all agree upon (something rare in AA) at meetings in Calcutta is the Serenity Prayer. To the best of my knowledge all the meetings in West Bengal use the Serenity Prayer at the beginning and at the end of the meeting.” Krishna I, of Bangalore, India, says that the Serenity Prayer has been translated into eight other Indian languages, and is used throughout the predominantly Hindu and Buddhist country.

American Indian meetings normally use the Prayer to the Great Spirit.

Myles W. says most groups inToronto, Canada, begin with the Serenity Prayer and end with the Lord’s Prayer, but “some start with the Serenity Prayer and end with the Responsibility Pledge,” also called the Responsibility Declaration.

Use of the declaration is growing

Jay S., a sober Jew in Connecticut, says that “The meetings I’ve been to in Jerusalem open and close with the Serenity Prayer. Here in Connecticut, about one third of the meetings I go to use the Serenity Prayer, the rest the Our Father. If they use the Our Father, I just say a silent prayer while holding hands.”

Maxine U., a sober Jew in New York, echoes the sentiments of P.J., a sober Muslim in Jakarta, Indonesia, when she says: “In some ways the Lord’s Prayer is a political statement. My biggest objection to it is the fact that it is irrevocably attached to a particular religion and AA is supposed to be completely neutral when it comes to religion.” Maxine goes on to say that she would feel the same way “if a Jewish prayer was adopted.”

Another sober Muslim, in Prague, in the Czech Republic, writes that his group opens and closes with the Serenity Prayer, “and there is no controversy.”

“My Personal [repeat PERSONAL] opinion is that no Christian prayers ever have any place at an AA meeting. The Lord’s Prayer is a Christian prayer and a religious prayer. I have nothing against Christians or Christianity. My parents and my sister are Christians and wonderful people. But I wouldn’t feel comfortable facing Mecca and kneeling and pressing my head to the floor at the end of an AA meeting either. That is Islam, not AA. If I want to do religion, I do it on my own time. AA meetings are AA time, and the Serenity Prayer does the job quite well.”

Elena, a former Californian now living in Athens,Greece, says, “We use the Serenity Prayer as well as the Lord’s Prayer. We have an English speaking meeting as well as Greek speaking meeting. Ninety percent of Greeks (like myself) are Greek Orthodox and firmly believe in God and in prayers in and outside of AA.”

Jack H., in Cork City, Ireland, says “I haven’t ever come across any problems with regards to the prayers, but then again Irelandis 100% a Christian country (Catholic and Protestant).” But in that same bath of e-mails, came this reply from non-Christian Bob. B., in Northern Ireland. He says that at one meeting he attends, different members are sometimes asked to lead the Lord’s Prayer. “While I will respect their group conscience, as a non-Christian, I will not join in with the words of this prayer, and if asked to lead, then I would have to decline and run the risk of offending many. “Religion, I believe should not be practiced in A.A. as it is another cause, and certainly in Northern Ireland it has always caused controversy.”

Mireille U., in Belgium, Erik B, in Norway, and Poul in Denmark say the Serenity Prayer is the prayer of choice. Sometimes the Promises are also read from the Big Book. It’s the same in Rome, says Stephen S., who adds, “Once in a while, if a visitor from the U.S.decides unilaterally to use the Lord’s Prayer, we do that. But it is not our choice at all. Strange for the home of the Pope, eh?”

Arthur in Australia writes: “Commonly in Australia, the Serenity Prayer is used to close a meeting, either holding hands or not. The Lord’s Prayer is used by some groups but these are relatively rare in my experience. “I personally don’t participate in these rituals which are not in keeping with my spiritual practice, and while I get odd looks from some people, I haven’t been thrown out yet, and after a while most come to respect my right to abstain from what, for me, would be hypocrisy.

“At times, not participating makes me feel, passingly, a little alienated from the group which is the usual argument used by those against the use of prayers. Today, however, I am a recovered alcoholic and my reason for being at meetings is to spread the message of my E. S. & H. (Experience, Strength and Hope) to the alcoholic who still suffers and if in some ways I don’t agree with rituals the group chooses to engage in that is of minor importance.”

David, in Darwin, Australia, says, “We only say the Serenity Prayer and those who do not believe in a God replace that word with one of their choosing. No other religions are mentioned, and no other religious prayers are spoken. We do however pray for people in the fellowship.”

Joel P, in Tokyo, writes that in the English-language meetings in Japan, “We open with the Serenity Prayer and close with the Lord’s Prayer. We had an Orthodox Jew here awhile and closed with the Serenity Prayer while he was here. He was an inspiration to the group with solid sobriety. His request to change the prayer was a unifying act as we all prayed together.”

As far as Japanese language meetings are concerned, Yukie writes: “Most Japanese AA Meetings in Kanto (including Tokyo) area close with a Serenity Prayer sitting at their seat, not standing hand in hand. But some groups don’t say any prayer at all, to say nothing of Lord’s Prayer. In some area such as Kyushu, almost of the groups in the area don’t. At one group I visited in Tokyo, they omitted “God” from the first line of the Serenity Prayer.”

Carolyn B, of Minneapolis, writes that many area meetings “still use the Serenity Prayer to open and the Our Father to close,” and some use the Responsibility Declaration. “There is one group which opens with the Third Step Prayer (on their knees!) and closes with the Responsibility Statement.” Her home group opens and closes with the Serenity Prayer. “We had a few members who were not Christian and who expressed discomfort with the Our Father as a closing. So we decided that since there are so many prayers available in Alcoholics Anonymous which are unifying, it ill behooved us to cling to one which was divisive, and we voted to stop using the Our Father.”

John P, in Texas, says they use the Lord’s Prayer because it is traditional, “dating to the earliest meetings in Akron and Cleveland. I have never heard it challenged as a practice in Texas, though, as would be expected, the question is sometimes raised on the Left Coast (California).” Claims that use of the Lord’s Prayer has never been challenged are quite common, even though, as we have seen, it continues to be challenged around the world, not just in California.

Jeanne G., a sober pagan in the Los Angeles area, says her home group, Pagans in Recovery, closes their meetings with their own prayer. These responses, and those I don’t have room to quote, show that there is room for variety in AA, but not according to all AAs. I once heard a member declare that he “knows” that if we don’t address God by His “correct name,” He will not listen to our prayers.

Many pro-Lord’s Prayer arguments remind me of my days as a reporter in the ’60s, covering the Civil Rights Movements. I would regularly interview white men and women who just didn’t understand why “uppity” blacks were so upset, and wished that they wouldn’t “rock the boat” by demanding their rights. I heard the same sorts of arguments when I covered the feminist movement, but then they came from men – both white and black.

Telling non-Christians they “shouldn’t be upset” by the Lord’s Prayer, or that they should “learn to live with it because it’s part of the program” shows a certain amount of thoughtlessness, intolerance, self-righteousness and even arrogance.

If you really want the program Bill and Bob started, all members must be like them: white, male, married, never-divorced Christians with specific college degrees – either pharmacists and doctors, like Dr. Bob, or stockbrokers with law degrees, like Bill W. – who were born in Vermont and first belonged to the Oxford Movement.

The foreword to the 1939 first edition of the Big Book says: “The only requirement for membership is an honest desire to stop drinking. We are not allied with any particular faith, sect or denomination, nor do we oppose anyone. We simply wish to be helpful to those who are afflicted.”

Prayers you say in private, or at your Church, are between you and your Higher Power. What you say at an AA meeting affects the entire group. Insulting people with a prayer they do not believe in, or making them feel apart from instead of part of is not “helpful.” It violates the spirit of the 12th Step: “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 message is recovery, not Christian prayer. And the message I want to leave my meeting with is the one spelled out in the Responsibility Declaration: “I am responsible. When anyone, anywhere, reaches out for help, I want AA always to be there. And for that, I am responsible.”

Jim Burwell’s contribution to Alcoholics Anonymous is truly significant and second only to that of AA’s two co-founders, Bill Wilson and Dr. Robert Smith. Jim is credited with adoption of A.A.’s Third Tradition – “The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking” - as reported by Bill in Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (pp. 143-145).  

In addition, it was primarily Jim, along with Hank Parkhurst, who convinced Bill to change the 12 Steps to be more inclusive for those who did not believe in “God.” Bill writes about the contentious battles over the use of the word God in the 12 Steps and the Big Book during the time they were written. Bill says that in New York the AA’s split into three factions, which Bill labeled “conservative”, “liberal” and “radical.”

The conservatives thought that “the book ought to be Christian in the doctrinal sense of the word and that it should say so.” This faction was led by Fitz Mayo, an Episcopal minister’s son from Maryland and the third man to recover at Town’s hospital, after Hank Parkhurst and Bill himself.

The second faction, the liberals, had no real objection to using the word “God” in the book. The liberals pointed out that most members already believed in a deity. The liberals mainly wanted the book’s Christian religious content to be toned down.

And the third faction was the radical faction, consisting of the agnostics and atheists, led by Jim Burwell and Hank Parkhurst. They wanted “God” removed from the book.         

But the atheists and agnostics, our radical left wing, were still to make a tremendously important contribution. Led by my friend Henry and obstinately backed by Jim B., a recently arrived sales man, this contingent proceeded to have its innings. At first they wanted the word “God” deleted from the book entirely. Henry had come to believe in some sort of “universal power,” but Jimmy still flabbergasted us by denouncing God at our meetings. Some members had been so angered that they wanted to throw him out of the group.  (Alcoholics Anonymous Comes of Age, p. 163)

What Jim, Hank and the other agnostics/atheists wanted was a psychological book to attract the alcoholic into AA, and once the alcoholic was in, the alcoholic could take God or leave Him alone as they wished. Bill reports that to the rest of the group, this was a “shocking” proposal. And the battle raged on for almost a year, until just before 400 copies of the completed manuscript were to be sent into circulation. Bill writes about his own role in insisting that the word “God” be used:

We were still arguing about the Twelve Steps. All this time I had refused to budge on these steps. I would not change a word of the original draft, in which, you will remember, I had consistently used the word “God,” and in one place the expression “on our knees” was used. Praying to God on one’s knees was still a big affront to Henry. He argued, he begged. He threatened. He quoted Jimmy to back him up. (Alcoholics Anonymous Comes of Age, pp. 166-67)

Finally, at the last minute, Bill partially relented and a compromise was reached. The compromise resulted in four extremely important changes to the 12 Steps:

1. Substituting the phrase “a Power greater than ourselves” for “God” in Step Two
2. Modifying the word “God” to the phrase “God as we understood Him” in Steps Three and Eleven
3. Eliminating the expression “on our knees” from Step Seven
4. Adding the sentence “Here are the steps we took which are suggested as a Program of Recovery” as a lead-in to all the steps, so that they became only suggestions.

After agreeing to these changes in the 12 Steps, Bill acknowledges the contribution of Jim, Hank and the other agnostics / atheists in the group:  

Such were the final concessions to those of little or no faith; this was the great contribution of our atheists and agnostics. They had widened our gateway so that all who suffer might pass through, regardless of their belief or lack of belief.  (Alcoholics Anonymous Comes of Age, p. 167)

Jim joined the fledgling New York AA group in January 1938. His sobriety date was June 1938 and he remained sober for 36 years, until his passing in September 1974. His story, The Vicious Cycle, was published in the Big Book’s 2nd through 4th editions. He wrote the first history of AA called “The Evolution of Alcoholics Anonymous,” which sketched AA’s beginning years from 1935 to 1940. He played a key role in the publication of the 1940 Saturday Evening Post article written by Jack Alexander. Working with Fitz Mayo, Jim started the first AA groups in Philadelphia, Washington and Baltimore. After moving permanently to San Diego, he was instrumental in the growth of AA there.

There are some who say that Jim later “mellowed” in his atheism, but according to Cleveland AA founder Clarence Snyder: “Jimmy remained steadfast, throughout his life and ‘preached’ his particular [non-God] brand of AA wherever he went.” (How it Worked: The Story of Clarence H. Snyder and the Early Days of Alcoholics Anonymous in Cleveland, Ohio, p. 107)

Jim himself, thirty years sober, wrote an article for the May 1968 Grapevine, and in it he writes: “Gradually, I came to believe that God and Good were synonymous and were found in all of us.” Jim’s words have an eerie similarity to the humanist slogans in recent ad campaigns, such as: “Why Believe in a God?  Just be Good for Goodness’ Sake” or “Humanism is the idea that you can be good without believing in God” or “Good, Without God.” Funny thing, because in a sense, humanism begins where atheism ends. Unlike atheism, humanism is primarily concerned with ethics, not with the debate concerning the existence of God. Perhaps Jim evolved into a secular humanist? Perhaps like Jim, non-believers and believers can find common ground between good and God.

At any rate, what is known is that Jim remained an atheist for his entire life, regardless of the evolution of his ethical life philosophy toward goodness. He never developed a belief in a supernatural God.

The controversy over his atheism seems to stem from Jim’s one and only slip, six months after he joined AA. Prior to his slip, Jim aggressively attacked any belief in God. After his slip, Jim came back with a different attitude. He realized that he needed the group to stay sober. And the group was against him because he openly attacked their beliefs. So Jim “mellowed.” Jim says that “his closed mind opened a little.” Did this mean he started to believe in a supernatural God? No. He realized that for the group to let him back in, it would be wise for him to stop aggressively challenging the beliefs of others in the group. And when his “closed mind opened a bit,” he was finally able to recognize that for some of the others in his group, their belief did help keep them sober. Apparently, what was not useful to him was useful to them. As Jim says, “Who am I to say?”

Did Jim’s changed attitude to be more tolerant of believers stop him from arguing against the use of  the word “God” in the new book. No. It was in the period immediately following his slip, June 1938 through April 1939, when Jim argued unrelentingly and most vehemently against the use of the word “God” in the 12 Steps and the Big Book.

Jim’s experience will be familiar to most agnostics, atheists and freethinkers in AA. When interacting with the believers in his group, Jim found that it was important to respect their beliefs and stop his “constant haranguing” against “God,” which he had done when he first joined the group. Belief in “God” is an extremely important component of sobriety for many. And arguing against the religious beliefs of others can become dysfunctional on many levels, for as Jim said about the believers in his group: “Who am I to say?”

On the other hand, it is frustrating to agnostics, atheists and freethinkers to be subjected to the proselytizing of the believers in the rooms. Would that believers would respect the lack of belief of others. Unfortunately, while believers no longer hold prayer meetings on what to do with the non-believers, as they did in Jim’s case (see Jim’s article below), they do push the idea that belief in God is an essential component of sobriety. If only more AAs realized that from the beginning, there was a lot of controversy over the idea that belief in God was essential to sobriety. There were some, such as Bill and Dr. Bob, who truly thought belief in God was essential. But there were others, such as Jim and Hank, who did not think that belief was essential to sobriety. Jim and Hank argued that the alcoholic should be able to “take God or leave Him alone as he wished.” For Jim, as he says in his article, it was the group that kept him sober, not “God.”  After his slip, Jim was humbled with the realization that he could not stay sober alone. He admitted that he needed the group.

It is remarkable that individuals like Jim and Hank were able to accomplish so much in those early years, given the religious and social climate of that period. They paved the way for what is happening now, seventy-four years later, with a growing population of agnostics, atheists and freethinkers who are asserting their rightful place in the fellowship.

What follows is Jim’s 1968 Grapevine article, which was later reprinted in the November 1999 Grapevine, under the category of “Big Book Authors.”

Sober For Thirty Years

 One of the earliest members of the first New York AA group; Jim Burwell was also its first “self-proclaimed atheist.”

As noted in my story, “The Vicious Cycle,” in the Big Book, I came into the Fellowship in New York in January 1938. At that time AA was just leaving the Oxford Group. There was one closed discussion meeting a week, at Bill’s home in Brooklyn, — attendance six or eight men, with only three members who had been sober more than one year: Bill, Hank, and Fritz. This is about all that had been accomplished in the four years with the New York Oxford Group.

During those early meetings at Bill’s, they were flying blind, with no creed or procedure to guide them, though they did use quite a few of the Oxford sayings and the Oxford Absolutes. Since both Bill and Dr. Bob had had almost-overnight experiences, it was taken for granted that all who followed would have the same sort of experience. So the early meetings were quite religious, in both New York and Akron. There was always a Bible on hand, and the concept of God was all biblical.

Into this fairly peaceful picture came I, their first self-proclaimed atheist, completely against all religions and conventions. I was the captain of my own ship. (The only trouble was, my ship was completely disabled and rudderless.) So naturally I started fighting nearly all the things Bill and the others stood for, especially religion, the “God bit.” But I did want to stay sober, and I did love the understanding Fellowship. So I became quite a problem to that early group, with my constant haranguing against all spiritual angles.

All of a sudden, the group became really worried. Here I had stayed sober five whole months while fighting everything the others stood for. I was now number four in “seniority.” I found out later they had a prayer meeting on “what to do with Jim.” The consensus seemed to have been that they hoped I would either leave town or get drunk.

That prayer must have been right on target, for I was suddenly taken drunk on a sales trip. This became the shock and the bottom I needed. At this time I was selling auto polish to jobbers for a company that Bill and Hank were sponsoring, and I was doing pretty well, too. But despite this, I was tired and completely isolated there in Boston. My fellow alcoholics really put the pressure on as I sobered up after four days of no relief, and for the first time I admitted I couldn’t stay sober alone. My closed mind opened a bit.

Those folks back in New York, the folks who believed, had stayed sober. And I hadn’t. Since this episode I don’t think I have ever argued with anyone else’s beliefs.

Who am I to say?

I finally crawled back to New York and was soon back into the fold. About this time, Bill and Hank were just beginning to write the AA Big Book. I do feel sure my experience was not in vain, for “God” was broadened to cover all types and creeds: “God as we understood Him.”

I feel my spiritual growth over these past thirty years has been very gradual and steady. I have no desire to “graduate” from AA. I try to keep my memories green by staying active in AA — a couple of meetings weekly.

For the new agnostic or atheist just coming in, I will try to give very briefly my milestones in recovery.

1. The first power I found greater than myself was John Barleycorn.
2. The AA Fellowship became my Higher Power for the first two years.
3. Gradually, I came to believe that God and Good were synonymous and were found in all of us.
4. And I found that by meditating and trying to tune in on my better self for guidance and answers, I became more comfortable and steady.

Jim B.

Chapter 4 of the Big Book, We Agnostics, is less than satisfying for many non-believers.  Six months ago I went undercover so that I might investigate these devious agnostic creatures.  It was my hope to discover what it was in Chapter 4 that they found objectionable.

Disregarding a tremendous amount of personal danger, I was able to infiltrate Toronto’s two agnostic AA groups, starting with the second anniversary party of Beyond Belief. They had an interesting speaker from New York City who opened his talk by saying that he believed AA to be a spiritual programme. I was shocked, as I am sure all are, to hear the word “spiritual” at such a meeting. Seemingly, the guile of these strange unbelieving entities was even beyond what I had expected.

I must report that, as a group, they were quite ordinary in appearance, albeit the “nerd quotient” was undeniably above the norm. Anxious to appear to fit in, but with great trepidation, I sampled some foodstuffs from a rather elaborate buffet. The fare of the agnostics was shockingly similar to our own, and they had lots of it. The species dines well.

Early on in the course of my investigations, a third group was formed in Richmond Hill.  I investigated this meeting, and also the second downtown meeting, blatantly called We Agnostics.  All of these gatherings were shockingly unshocking.  Using cunning and subterfuge, I ingratiated myself with the head heathen, and all was going well, until it wasn’t.  Anyway, more later about my capture, water-boarding and subsequent indentured servitude.

Interestingly, our Big Book does not define “alcoholism” or “alcoholics,” but rather provides “descriptions.”  As in paragraph one of the We Agnostics chapter – “If, when you honestly want to, you find you cannot quit entirely, or if when drinking, you have little control over the amount you take, you are probably alcoholic.”  Geez, I remember expecting something a little more harsh in the qualifications – at least some DTs, extreme withdrawal, 60 ouncers, vodka on cornflakes and a minimum of one pink elephant.  It occurs to me that “The Days of Wine and Roses” starring Jack Lemmon and Lee Remick was filmed AFTER the writing of the book.  Ca explique beaucoup.

I have some observations about agnostics and atheists, gleaned from twenty plus years of seeing these creatures at regular meetings.

1. Among newcomers to AA, there are very few ‘real’ atheists. The vast majority of those proclaiming “When I got to AA I was a total atheist” will later tell of tragic or unfair events which led to their resentments against God. They are much like the angry four year old who screams the ultimate punishment at his mother – “You’re not my mommy any more…” A good many others pursue a life-style of hedonism and self-centeredness, possibly in complete opposition to a religious upbringing, and fear some very dire consequences IF there is a God.  They optimistically wish for no God but, beaten down by alcohol, reactivating belief is not terribly difficult.  This first group also can come to God via the fourth step of the program.

2. About half to two thirds (by my perception) of those new arrivals to AA who would designate themselves ‘agnostic’ have, like the folks described above, merely dodged the issue.  These groups are the people for whom this chapter was written and there were plenty of them at the time Bill wrote the Big Book.  Our 12-Step recovery process reduces both fear and resentment, formerly blocking these folks from a relationship with God.  Not a giant stretch for those whose roots of disbelief do not run deep.

3. But what about the real agnostic or atheist?  Here is the fellow who has been puzzling you, especially in his lack of belief.  These folks have given these matters serious consideration and are often more well-versed than most on religious matters.

 And indeed, such are the members of the downtown groups – agnostics, Buddhists, humanists, atheists, wanderers and seekers.  Many achieved sobriety through regular AA, assisted by the liberality of Bill Wilson, and the concessions granted to the atheists and agnostics of the 1930s.  The Spiritual Experience Appendix added in 1941 allows a pursuit of psychic (spiritual!) change, and one’s own “God as we understood Him” (courtesy of the early atheist, Jim B.) has truly provided a “widening of the gateway.”

Sadly, for an unknown quantity of other still suffering alcoholics, the gateway is not wide enough.  Freedom to choose one’s own spiritual path, one’s own concept of God, is contradicted for them by AA’s pitbull-like adherence to the King of Christian prayers.  Several have without doubt found a workable path to sobriety among the non-believers, and within the non-religious atmosphere of these “unconventional” groups.

Back to my infiltration of the agnostics: all was going well.

I befriended these strange creatures and gained their trust, even writing a few blogs for their heathen website.  No one suspected a thing, and then one day someone sneezed.  The “God bless you” was out of my mouth before I could pull it back.  It hung in the air like a mushroom cloud.  The room was deadly silent.

Then of course came the water-boarding.  George W. claimed it wasn’t torture.  My experience was different.  Hour after hour it went on, and the SAME questions over and over and over again: “Is there a God?”  “Do you have an immortal soul?”  “Do heaven and hell exist?”  I would have done anything to make it stop. Not being an agnostic myself, I did NOT know that the answer that these heathens were satisfied with was a simple “Maybe.”

 Bob K

While brainwashed, I was FORCED to write a blog, God as We Understood Him:  AA in the 1930s, for the heathen website. May all who believe forgive me and may God have mercy on my soul !!

]]> http://aatorontoagnostics.org/2012/04/01/heathens-spies-websites-water-boarding-carrot-cake/feed/ 6 http://aatorontoagnostics.org/2012/03/27/intergroup-votes-against-re-listing-agnostic-groups/ http://aatorontoagnostics.org/2012/03/27/intergroup-votes-against-re-listing-agnostic-groups/#comments Wed, 28 Mar 2012 01:57:13 +0000 Roger C http://aatorontoagnostics.org/?p=1567 Continue reading →]]> On Tuesday (March 27, 2012) the Greater Toronto Area (GTA) Intergroup voted 59 to 19 against including two agnostic AA groups on its meeting list (hard copy and online) and giving them a voice at Intergroup meetings.

The issue was discussed at its meeting in February. The actual motion read as follows: “that the two groups, Beyond Belief and We Agnostics, be re-listed in the Meeting Book and reinstated as members of Toronto Intergroup.” An Intergroup representative, previously unknown to members of the Toronto agnostic groups, David P., spoke to the motion. The following is taken word-for-word from the minutes of the February 28th meeting, posted online by the GTA Intergroup.

Denying these groups access to Intergroup’s directory, and to a voice on the Intergroup floor, contradicts the Traditions. Tradition Four states that “any two or three alcoholics gathered together for the purpose of sobriety may call themselves an AA group provided that as a group they have no other affiliation.” All of the groups in question are AA groups. That is clear and simple. There is nothing any of us can do about that. They are AA groups. The only question is how we will join in fellowship with each other.

Traditions One and Four give us advice on how to do that. The Fourth states that “we [have] been given the courage to declare each AA group an individual entity, strictly reliant on its own conscience as a guide to action. …. Every group [has] the right to be wrong.” Tradition One reminds that “Our Twelve Steps to recovery are suggestions; the Twelve Traditions which guarantee AA’s unity contain not a single ‘Don’t’. They repeatedly say ‘We ought…’ but never ‘You must!’”

If we continue to exclude these groups, either:

• we are saying that people gathered together for the purpose of sobriety, and with no other affiliation, are not AA groups, or
• we are saying “You must!” to our fellow groups, or
• we are denying the hand of fellowship to AA groups.

Any of these directly contradict the Traditions.

Excluding these groups is wrong; it is harmful. And it’s harmful in three ways.

First, it will work against AA unity. Remember that these are AA groups we are talking about. Remember that there is nothing we can do about the *fact* that they are AA groups. We see already what happens when Intergroup decides not to act as trusted servant to those groups. The shunned groups try to find other ways to do their twelfth step work – setting up alternative web sites, finding other ways to do service to the community. We also see alcoholics attending meetings, not to share their experience, strength, and hope that they may recover and help others to recover from alcoholism, but to judge and condemn those meetings. A vicious schism has developed. And this is a schism *within AA*. Beyond Belief, We Agnostics, Widening the Gateway ALL ARE AA GROUPS, whether anyone likes it or not! If you don’t like it what you hear in one of those meeting, go to another meeting. If you don’t like that one, go to another meeting. If you don’t like that one, talk to your sponsor about what’s keeping you from hearing the message.

Second, excluding these groups sullies AA’s reputation and its capacity for attraction. For many years I have had to reassure potential newcomers that AA is not a cult; that it admits of the limitless play of individual conscience. That is much harder to do now. If we require each group to affirm God and the Twelve Steps, it’s easy for a newcomer to infer that we require each individual to affirm God and the Twelve Steps. And we do neither.

Finally, exclusion is harmful to our fellow alcoholics. Suffering drunks are finding it harder to find meetings, because Intergroup isn’t listing them. Group representatives are ignored, silenced, and treated with disdain and contempt. I will echo the Traditions in stating that this is not only harmful but murderously harmful. This is a fatal disease. Remember that Step One tells us that “the group must survive or the individual will not.” In attacking these groups we attack the individuals who depend on them for survival. Step Three, in warning us never to compel a fellow AA to believe or conform to anything, reminds us that “to take away any alcoholic’s full chance [is] sometimes to pronounce his death sentence,” and asks “who dare[s] to be judge, jury, and executioner of his own sick brother?” This is serious business.

For God’s sake, what has happened to the saving grace of fellowship in this room, the higher power that expresses itself in the outstretched hand? I have faith in that higher power and faith in that fellowship. I trust it will return in time. Let’s welcome that time, resurrect that fellowship, and turn our attention to making amends for the harm that has already been done.

Clearly David’s comments fell on deaf ears… Here is some more background. Beyond Belief and We Agnostics were removed from the official GTA Alcoholics Anonymous meeting list almost a year ago on May 30^th 2011. It created quite a stir, and was covered on the front page of the Toronto Star: Fight Over God Splits Toronto AA Groups. More information about the de-listing and about agnostic groups in AA is available here: A History of Agnostic Groups in AA.  

I am crunched tight in the fetal position, whimpering pitifully on a piss-stained carpet covered with a layer of crushed plastic Wild Oak Cider bottles. I have ended pretty much every day for the last decade in this fashion. It is May 1999, I am 31 years of age, a skeletal eight and a half stone, my teeth medieval and I smell a little like a pet shop in summer. I am emotionally desolate, haunted by a profound sense of sadness, a thousand nameless fears and the threat of some terrible impending catastrophe. I believe I am ugly and worthless. I hurt all over. My drinking is killing me. My thinking is killing me. My behaviour has made everybody who knows me want to cry or punch me. I have become a peculiar fusion of fox and snake, saloon-bar ponce and high-street pest. My mind is vicious in its pursuit of alcohol. I will steal your wallet and help you look for it. In the previous week I have begged, borrowed, manipulated, collapsed in the street carrying the last of my record collection to the pawn shop, drunk my poor mum’s bingo money and carried out countless other charmless acts of ruthless deviousness. It is a relentless, degrading, endlessly humiliating existence. Everything I held dear has gone and I am close to the end. Trapped. Compelled to harm myself. Day in and day out. Hello, my name is Frank and, though I do not know it at the time, I am an alcoholic and my head has very nearly broken my heart.

Alcoholism is a pernicious, progressive mental and physical illness that will insidiously strip away and annihilate everything in your life that contains love and goodness. Its pathological nature is to isolate you, imprison you and then ultimately bring about your demise. If you are suffering from alcoholism and unable to stop drinking, life will absolutely definitely end in tears. Those tears will typically be shed in prison, on a park bench in the rain, after being sectioned under the Mental Health Act with or without Korsakoff’s Syndrome or alone in a darkened room as I was, drink in hand, arguing with the curtains or sobbing in my underpants to Phil Collins’ Face Value.

As a hard-boiled eight-year-old I had rejected God along with Santa and The Six Million Dollar Man. As a London-Irish Catholic, at ten years old I survived the trauma of being an altar boy by being on permanent nonce alert and taking cheeky swigs of the communion wine. How could any sentient being watch a single episode of the BBC One O’Clock News and still maintain the existence of a loving, interventionist God? Life itself demonstrated every minute of every day that it was completely arbitrary and random. Bad things happened inexplicably to good people all the time, there was no real meaning to life and my life in particular as viewed in the broken mirror of the toilets of The Sun pub was spectacularly, unavoidably doomed.

I had clocked the shady figures, smoking away, huddled around the side entrance of the church, many times as I stumbled around. I usually hid my face and hurried past. Until, on one unremarkable Monday evening, 6 June 1999, utter exhausted desperation led me to shuffle into a back-row seat for my first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. Very occasionally, when a human being finds themself in a position of complete mental and physical collapse, there is a fleeting moment of such tremendous intensity that it can serve as the starting-point for a life-saving change of direction. I needed truth. And honesty. And simple practical help. And eventually I found it.

Coming from a very physically and verbally violent background, I had instilled in myself a sense of guarded self-sufficiency. Trust no one and keep your anguish to yourself. My initial conditioned understanding was that a drink problem was overcome via a “Battle with the Bottle” war of attrition. But sustained recovery doesn’t work like that. It is the wrong dynamic. AA is a program of everyday selfless constructive action. To get sober you need to get vulnerable. Breathe. Discover the power of softness. A big ask if you have operated in a state of advanced survivor’s hustle all your life.

AA’s masterstroke in contrast to other therapeutic and holistic disciplines is that it establishes early doors that you cannot think yourself well. No amount of mental exertion or willpower is applicable against alcoholism. You come for your drinking and stay for your thinking. And with the thinking comes the fear. The true bogey-man of all alcoholics. If my thinking is the problem and I cannot solve the problem with the problem, then I need a new internal line of defence against picking up the first fatal drink and equally, without a drink, against becoming mentally unwell again. For the majority of AA members that line of defence means God. God as you understand Him. Underlined and in italics in Step Three of the 12 Step Program of Recovery. And often an old-school God with a capital G who protects, guides and takes the time to schedule the events in your life. Divine intervention and acts of providence are commonplace interpretations of life-altering experiences shared throughout the 77-year history of AA. A benevolent God steps in when all else has failed. This is an approach to sobriety that essentially means from here on in letting God run the show and you getting out of the way through prayer, faith and appropriate loving actions. Seductive, comforting and empowering. But not for me.

If you are an atheist in AA and AA is your last-chance saloon, then you have to develop an authentic and powerful workaround to make sobriety breathe for you. Pioneering atheist and agnostic AA members fought long and hard to make it explicit that belief is not a prerequisite of staying sober. And I champion their bold lead. I do not participate in any of the prayers. I ignore any raised eyebrows. God is not looking after me and the Cosmos does not care if I relapse on cheap vodka or not. Outing myself as an atheist in AA proved to be an incredibly liberating act. It pared away any delusions or expectations of life. It gave me a way forward of simplicity and responsibility. It made me look deep inside myself for the answers. It made me embrace the strength and healing to be found in real unconditional human love and compassion. Love as a group of people sharing their darkest concerns. Love as putting the kettle on. Love as making amends for harms done. Love as sitting all night in A&E. Love as being quiet. Love as being brave. It allowed me to honour my former broken self, lost and petrified in that darkened room, and tiptoe falteringly into the world again. It makes me take nothing for granted. Be simple. Live the moment. To not be afraid. And to know that by staying true to my disbelieving self and under no circumstance picking up a drink, a remarkable second chance at life is here to be lived.

This article was first published in the March-April, 2012 issue of the New Humanist Magazine (Issue 2, Volume 127) and is posted here with the permission of the UK-based magazine.