A service/sermon by Barbara W. ten Hove
Paint Branch UU Church, Adelphi, MD — Nov. 12, 2006

FLAMING CHALICE DEDICATION — Michael Leger, worship associate

I am not among that “rest of us” to which the title of today’s service refers. I am one of those people for whom the original twelve-step recovery program, Alcoholics Anonymous, was formulated; I am one of those millions of people whose lives have—literally—been saved by the twelve steps. I should note here, in the spirit of anonymity, that I do NOT speak FOR Alcoholics Anonymous, but as one who has used the twelve steps in an individual, and some would say unconventional, way, to remain sober from alcohol and drugs for twenty years.

When I was 26, I looked back with despair over eleven years of drinking to the point of drunkenness at every opportunity. I also looked back with hopelessness over twenty-six years dominated by depression, suicidal thinking, and the frantic, constant avoidance of any HONEST experiencing and expression of emotion.

In the Summer of 1986, my older sister, Julie, out of love and concern for me, asked an acquaintance of hers who was in recovery to come and share his “experience, strength, and hope” with me. I will always be grateful to Ken A. for telling me about a way of life—the twelve steps—that made it possible for him to abstain from alcohol and drugs on a daily basis, and to meet life head-on, one day and one minute at a time, with a PRESENT- centered ACCEPTANCE of experience, and with an honest and self-loving approach to every moment of every day.

Ken had the LIFE I wanted, and shortly thereafter, I made my way into “the rooms” and into the steps, and began an amazing process I am grateful for every day.

There is a good deal of overlap between the twelve steps and present-centered spiritualities such as Zen Buddhism, with its consistent admonition to surrender attachment to outcomes, its wise Zen teachings on surrendering control in and to each moment of experiencing.

There is also a good deal of “god” talk in the 12 steps—a word with which I became increasingly uncomfortable as my spiritual path in recovery took me from fundamentalism to Anglo-Catholicism to agnosticism to atheism to where I am today: literal atheism without the baggage of pure materialism—call it mysterialism, or call it whatever you like.

For the 12 steps have allowed me to cease fighting: I have stopped fighting my alcoholism, and surrendered to its existence and to the daily reprieve that the 12 steps give me from its likely outcome. I have surrendered, spiritually, to the idea of NOT knowing all the answers, and to the COMFORT of an EVOLVING understanding of life with its mysterious, spiritual dimension. I have surrendered to the fact that some of those around me in “the rooms” seem less able to accept my spiritual atheism THAN I NOW find myself able to accept their choice of theism as a spiritual path.

I have surrendered to the notion that control is the problem, NOT the solution. Today my higher power is LOVE itself—a force I do NOT understand, but a standard and a principle I can use to guide my steps.

When I was 26, I could neither conceive of, nor desire, the achievement of my 30th birthday. Now as I close out my 47th year, I enjoy today, and cannot only conceive of, but can believe in, the value of living all the days of my life IN THE PRESENT.

And so I welcome the opportunity to participate in today’s service, and to add my voice to the recommendation of this way of life to spiritual seekers whether they have an addiction or not. I light today’s chalice in honor of a spiritual path that has for 71 years amply demonstrated its capacity to transform lives.

Reading: REV. BURKUM’S BIBLE

Adapted from a piece by Kaaren Solveig Anderson (Found in Singing in the Night, Mary Benard, ed.)

When I was ten years old, we visited friends of the family. The father of the house was a very large, formidable Lutheran minister. He gave me a little Bible to look at. It was tiny, smaller than my palm, yet it was the Bible in its entirety. I could look at it, but I couldn’t have it. Well, I took it. Okay, I stole it. I put it in my pocket and stole it.

Later, I’d take it out to admire it, and honor would grab me and shake me. As if it were on fire, I would thrust it back in my desk drawer. I was a thief, of the Bible no less. Finally, I forgot my crime and the object of my shame.

2

When I was about fifteen, I went through the drawers and found the miniscule Bible. I should have returned it then. I didn’t. In fact, I decided to deal with my emotions about the thing and threw it away. Sacrilege, I know, but it lay in the wastebasket…mocking me. I pushed it to the bottom. Ugh.

I often wonder why I felt so powerless that I acted out by stealing a Bible. I never enjoyed the act or the thing, and in the long run I just felt more powerless. I compounded the crime with silence. We adults don’t like to feel powerless, or out of control, or wrong.

But, truth be told, I’m wrong a lot. [There are times] that I’m forced to stand firm and look truth in the eyes and admit to my errors. [Faith] helps me look at my deepest darkest yuck and say, well, I’m wrong again, and then ask for forgiveness, divine and human.

[Faith] can offer …the chance to be honest with ourselves, to touch the tip of our pain, to confront our insecurities, wantonness, abrasiveness and powerlessness. It’s a chance to become truly powerful. To face truth and ask for forgiveness for our imperfect humanity. We tend to mess up a lot. When we can admit that, we move forward and become more fully ourselves.

Sermon, Part 1 RECOVERY FOR THE REST OF US Barbara W. ten Hove

Though I had heard of twelve step groups earlier in my life, I first gained personal knowledge of them as my mother entered a treatment program for alcoholism when I was in my late twenties. I speak of this with her here today. What happened during that difficult period in her life is not a secret in any way and I am grateful that I can talk about it with her among us.

When Mom started on the long road toward what those in twelve step programs call “recovery” I decided that I would do what I could to work on my own issues with her alcoholism as she worked on hers. Given that she was in a treatment program on the east coast and I was living and working on the west, I could not attend any of the family meetings such programs recommend. So, far away from family, I stepped into my first Al- Anon meeting in Bellevue, WA.

Al-Anon is a twelve-step group for those of us dealing with alcoholism in our families. It was in that group of strangers that I began to understand the powerful meaning that twelve step groups and programs can give to people in need. Every time I went to a meeting, I was reminded I was not alone. I came to understand that alcoholism and other addictions are diseases of the mind, body and spirit. I grew to respect the many gifts that can be found in twelve step programs. And I came to see that even those of us who are not addicted have much to learn from the powerful yet simple process that people in recovery go through to get and remain sober.

I am extremely lucky that the people in my life who struggle with addiction have, for the most part, found the blessings of recovery and are doing well. But, that was not always the case for me. My mother will tell you ten years passed before recovery really “took” for her. Sober now for over nine years, she and I have not forgotten the hard times that came before.

We both learned a lot during that journey through the wilderness. A year ago last May she shared some of her journey from this very pulpit. People still speak to me of the strength and wisdom my mother blessed us with that day. But she will tell you that it did not come without hard struggle, for both of us. Today, I know that I am a better and stronger person because of what we went through.

In your order of service today are the twelve steps and some resources you may find interesting if you or someone you love is struggling with addiction. I have asked Michael to join me in reading the twelve steps out loud.

THE TWELVE STEPS OF ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol and that our lives had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God, as we understood Him.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed and became willing to make amends to them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
12. 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.

Given the strong (and appropriate) emphasis recovery programs place on anonymity, I will not ask those of you with experience in addiction issues to identify yourself. But I imagine many of us in this room would raise our hands if asked. Addiction impacts lots and lots of people. Most who deal with their own or a loved one’s addiction get steered to twelve step programs, primarily Alcoholics Anonymous and its many offshoots such as Narcotics Anonymous and Overeaters Anonymous. I have great respect for these programs but before I go on let me acknowledge that I know that people can and do get and stay sober by walking other paths.

AA works for most people who try it and stick with it, but not everybody. That’s OK. Today I do not intend to tell you how and why twelve step programs should be followed. Rather, I can only share with you what I have learned from my own experience walking alongside others in, as they call it, “the program.” I do this because I think that all of us can find benefit from the spiritual path that twelve step programs encourage.

That spiritual path has often been confused with Christianity. It is true, that many of the tools that AA uses, in particular the Lord’s prayer and the serenity prayer (the original version by theologian Reinhold Niebuhr) come directly from the Christian tradition. And the use of the word God, particularly in male language, has turned many a UU away from AA. When I looked again at the twelve steps in preparation for this service, I was reminded of how difficult the language can be for UUs. I understand this.

But the spirituality behind the twelve steps goes deeper, I believe, than the words. Since many folks, like Michael, have a theology that is not entirely compatible with the God or higher power spoken of in the twelve steps, it is important to learn how to take what works for you and leave the rest. Not always easy, I know. But if we look behind the twelve steps to see the basic spiritual path they invite people to walk, I think we can acknowledge, if not agree, that there is much of value to the program.

I have found three aspects of the program to be particularly significant for my own spiritual growth. I hope you find them so as well. The first is exemplified in the reading (above). It’s all about telling the truth. The second is related to diversity, and the amazing ability to discover commonality in each other across what normally seem like boundaries. And finally, the basic lesson at the heart of it all—learning to let go of control.

So let’s begin with honesty. Anyone who has dealt with addiction has experienced the extraordinary ability we humans have to dissemble. Most addicts spend a lot of time covering their tracks, hiding bourbon in mouthwash bottles, stashing drugs deep in the sock drawer, pretending not to be drunk or stoned or whatever.

When an addict first enters into a twelve-step program, he or she has to learn not to lie. That’s first. Then they have to learn how to tell the truth. Both can be extremely hard. Yet, when addiction is literally killing you, truth becomes absolutely essential. It is a huge first step in moving away from destructive behavior toward healing. Addicts discover that if they continue to lie to themselves about their addiction, they will fall deeper into it. And they learn if they lie to others, it will come back to haunt them through failed relationships and recrimination.

But I would suggest that it is not only addicts who need to learn truth telling. Honesty is at the heart of true spirituality. I love the reading (above) about the Bible stealer. Think about it for a moment. The child steals and because she does not confess her deed she is forced to lie about it. That lie, over the years, became a deepening wound in her heart. Her lie makes her powerless. But not in the way Alcoholics talk about powerlessness (more about that later). As Kaaren Anderson writes,

I often wonder why I felt so powerless that I acted out by stealing a Bible. I never enjoyed the act or the thing, and in the long run I just felt more powerless. I compounded the crime with silence. We adults don’t like to feel powerless, or out of control, or wrong.

Lying about who we are or lying to another even to make them happy is just plain wrong. It is also deeply wounding to the human spirit. My encounters with people in twelve step programs shows me both how easy it is to lie and how meaningful it is to learn to tell the truth. Real truth telling can feel like pain—but it is not the wounding hurt that lies create. Rather it is a growing pain. It is the healing pain that comes when we face others and ourselves as we really are. Pain that becomes relief when we learn that telling the truth does not weaken us; it makes us stronger.

Such openness is a big part of why twelve step programs are so spiritual. When people come together and are real with each other and themselves, a sacred space is created. Hearts come together in a holy place. Let’s sing about that now.

Hymn #1008: When Our Heart is in a Holy Place

When we trust the wisdom in each of us, every color every creed and kind.
And we see our faces in each other’s eyes, then our heart is in a holy place.

Sermon, Part 2 RECOVERY FOR THE REST OF US Barbara W. ten Hove

While twelve step groups share a process in common, the people in them can be and usually are very different from each other. At a recent gathering I attended, members of one group ranged from a professional Asian man in late middle age to a thirty-something white female musician from deep rural America. In between was a Civil War re-enactor, a Harvard dropout, and a suburban mother of two teenagers.

This particular group is not that different from any twelve-step group you may encounter. What brings these folks together is the disease of addiction. But part of what makes the program so meaningful to people is the diversity of the community. In twelve step groups you set aside your political beliefs and your religious beliefs to support each other in the important work of staying sober. These groups model a kind of diversity we in the church should envy.

This, then, is the second lesson I have learned from my encounters with twelve step programs. People really are able to connect across all sorts of barriers if they covenant to do so. Early in my mom’s recovery, one of her favorite groups to go to was a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. My genteel southern mother had not had a lot of experience with Hell’s Angels types until she entered this group. All of a sudden, these rough-and-tumble, burly, former drug addicts became her friends. They were there for each other in real ways and because they were they were able to set aside issues of race and class and religion and just be human with each other.

This is a powerful reminder to all of us, even those not dealing with addiction, that it really is possible to find common ground across most boundaries. So many of us lead our lives in ways that keep us from interacting except superficially with those who are different from us.

I think we all have a lot to learn from twelve step programs that reach beyond tokenism to build community in real and lasting ways.

Finally, let me address the stickiest of issues many UUs face in twelve step programs—the higher power dilemma. Reading through the original twelve steps can’t help but bring this issue to the fore. Talking about “God as we understand him” can stick in the craw of atheists and feminists alike.

But I think it may be less about language and more about control that makes some of us squirm. For the admission of powerlessness is a huge first step for people to take. In AA, you have to accept you are powerless over alcohol. But all of us have to, at least at some point, come to grips with the reality that we are not always in control.

This was the biggest gift twelve step programs gave me. Years ago, while in college and living at home, I would pour my parents liquor down the drain, thinking that by doing so I could somehow control their behavior. It didn’t work. In later years I tried anger and silence and distance. They didn’t work either. What finally worked for me was surrender. I just gave up and admitted that nothing I did was working. I realized that I had no control over others’ behavior and the only thing I could change was my response to it.

Little by little, I began to let go of my anger and fear. Luckily for me, it wasn’t long after this that my mother sobered up and started her beautiful journey toward healing and hope. Together we realized that the act of letting go of control did not make us less strong—in fact, just the opposite. We both learned to have more faith in the ongoing, unfolding miracle of life. The AA slogan of one day at a time enabled both of us to find more acceptance of each other and ourselves.

For many in “the program,” the concept of “letting go and letting God” (another AA slogan) is less about the definition of God and more about the reality of giving up control. Even if you don’t believe in God, it is helpful to remember that you are not God. For me, it was incredibly healing to accept that everything that happens in my life isn’t up to me.

As the serenity prayer reminds us, we can learn to accept what we cannot change even as we change the things we can. Understanding the difference allows us to move with grace on our life’s journey.

And giving up control does not mean becoming entirely powerless. Kaaren Anderson wrote,

[Faith] can offer…the chance to be honest with ourselves, to touch the tip of our pain, to confront our insecurities, wantonness, abrasiveness and powerlessness. It’s a chance to become truly powerful. To face truth and ask for forgiveness for our imperfect humanity. We tend to mess up a lot. When we can admit that, we move forward and become more fully ourselves.

Becoming more fully human is the essence of the spiritual journey. Twelve step programs are one way to walk a spiritual path with humility and hope. While not all of us in this room will need or become part of twelve step groups, all of us can learn from them. Living life without lying to oneself or others is deeply spiritual. Celebrating the diversity of the human family is deeply spiritual. Having faith in the unfolding of life without always seeking to control it is deeply spiritual.

I am grateful to the founders of AA who, decades ago, recognized that what people need to become fully whole, even when addiction plagues both body and soul, is a community of acceptance, a spiritual path that is simple yet not easy, and a faith in something beyond one’s own needs and desires. I have been blessed by these gifts and so has my family. I hope all of us can benefit from them. Take what you can, and leave the rest.

I do not know Libby Roderick’s story but this song she wrote fits our topic beautifully.

Hymn #1053:

How Could Anyone ever tell you, you were anything less than beautiful? 
How could anyone ever tell you, you were less than whole?
How could anyone fail to notice, that your loving is a miracle?
How deeply you’re connected to my soul.