DEATH OF AN ALCOHOLIC

"I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity ..." (Romans 7:23)

Although I voted for him in my "before Christ" days in 1972, I have not been a political fan of George McGovern for a long, long time. His ultra liberal stands on abortion and other issues put him and me at opposite ends of the political spectrum. But when I read his recent book, Terry, which chronicles the tragic struggle his daughter had with alcoholism, I could feel nothing but compassion for what this man has gone through in recent years. As I read the heart-wrenching story of a vibrant, beautiful child who grew into a pathetic and helpless alcoholic before his eyes, I was powerfully reminded of the destructiveness of that evil that threatens both liberals and conservatives alike.

Alcoholism is surely one of the ugliest addictions known to man. It destroys relationships, diminishes productivity, and leads to failure at every level. Every year, in America alone, 100,000 alcoholics sacrifice their lives upon the altar of drink. Most of them die unnoticed, and the world goes about its business without much concern. It is estimated that there are twenty million alcoholics in the United States. They range from homeless wretches who sleep on park benches to wealthy socialites who live in multi-million dollar mansions. Although Christians do not like to admit it, we even find some on the rolls of our churches and among her elders, deacons, and pastors. Virtually all of them will have serious problems in their homes, and most of them will die years before their time.

TERRY

Many times we wrongly assume that anyone who has serious problems in their adult life, must have had major personality problems as a child, or been traumatized by neglectful or abusive parents in their early years. While this certainly can be the case, it is not always necessarily so. A childhood friend describes Terry thus:

Terry was always the leader; I was the follower. She constantly had us laughing, always coming up with fun things to do. The interesting, imaginative, and happy memories of my childhood I owe almost entirely to Terry ... I knew of no one who didn't like her, and by the time we finished junior high, half the boys in the neighborhood were in love with her.

Somewhere, between that happy, carefree childhood, and the depressed, drunken adult that she came to be, Terry became enslaved to one of the oldest masters in the history of mankind -- the mighty bottle. When she died at forty-five years of age its victory was complete. In an alcoholic stupor, Terry had stumbled out of a bar and into a snowbank, where she fell asleep and froze to death. "Death due to hypothermia while in a state of extreme intoxication," the coroner's report read. Washington Post writer Laura Blumenfeld described the scene:

The fingers were frozen hard. Her skin was colorless. Her socks had iced onto her feet. She lay next to a circle of footprints, a ring ten feet in diameter, her own sneakered prints tamped down upon each other, as if she had been trying to walk straight but could only make dizzy circles until she dropped.

As George McGovern relates the story of his daughter, a number of themes emerge. They give us valuable insight into the minds of those who struggle with alcoholism. Some of these are:

1) Depression -- Somewhere, between a happy and relatively normal childhood, and her adult years, Terry lost her joy. One of her friends wrote: "She carried with her an overwhelming melancholy that had been with her for as long as she could remember; she was one of the saddest people I have ever met." It might be hard to say whether the depression caused the drinking, or the drinking the depression. In all likelihood, both fed each other, and the result was devastating. When Terry did manage to go for seasons without drinking, the emotional pain she carried eventually led her back to the bottle.

2) Self-Image -- Having a famous and successful father seemed to be pretty intimidating to Terry. She once wrote: "I have carried an image of myself that I am of average intelligence. I can't stand that perception of being average. It has been with me all my life and kept me from delving into any interesting work." Ironically, it was universally agreed by those who knew her that Terry was far beyond average in intelligence and creativity. She seemed to carry with her at all times a morbid introspection which was never satisfied with what she saw in herself, once writing in her journal, "Be kind to yourself, Teresa ... Don't berate and abuse yourself."

3) The Need For Love & Acceptance -- Terry, despite her claims of average intelligence, was a deep thinker, and too often her thoughts turned inward as she brooded over her lack of warm, loving relationships. After a breakup with her live-in lover of five years (during which time she was able to stay sober), she wrote: "Abandonment—I feel it—it hurts. No one to make me feel safe, protected. I cry...I have looked so long for someone to protect me, love me without anger or shame...If someone looks too closely, I freeze like a chameleon...who can hurt me when I'm frozen?"

4) Struggle And Failure -- Many people have a distorted picture of the alcoholic. They suppose that all alcoholics are the way they are because they want it that way, and that if any of them ever really got serious about fighting against their desires for alcohol, they could quickly achieve and maintain a sober life. The truth is, most of them come to hate the master that creates such misery and destruction, and many of them fight vigorously against it. Terry was a fighter. She despised the life she lived, despised herself for living it, and struggled continually for deliverance. Her therapist commented after her death: "I never knew anyone who tried as hard as Terry did to get well. I know that her death did not signal her desire to die. She wanted to live, she wanted to stay sober, she wanted to have something in her life that was an anchor that she could hold on to. She just wasn't able to do it."

The powerful cravings that she experienced for alcohol at times puzzled Terry, as with her intellect she could rationally consider its devastating effects. She puzzled in her journal once: "How could I want to keep company with the same agent that has snatched from my grasp all that I have loved? God forgive me."

In her last years of life, there was a steady deterioration. She told her sister, Ann, "My body no longer recognizes any food other than alcohol." Her stomach swelled, the veins in her esophagus dilated, and she frequently threw up blood. She was admitted to the Tellurian Detox Center in Madison 68 times, usually after collapsing and sometimes injuring herself while heavily intoxicated. On one occasion, she fell facedown in a pool of water and nearly drowned. Several times she suffered painful head or facial abrasions from falling on the sidewalks or streets. At other times she passed out on buses, park benches, or in stores. She became a familiar figure to the Madison police, emergency crews, the hospitals, and especially to the detox center.

SEARCHING FOR ANSWERS

In trying to understand the problem of alcoholism many divergent philosophies have been proposed. The secular world of the health professionals and psychologists have concluded that alcoholism is a disease. Its roots are to found in the physical makeup of the individual, and should in no way be considered a lack of willpower or a moral failure.

In the church alcoholism has traditionally been considered a sin—one that needs to be repented of and forsaken. The alcoholic is the way he is because he has chosen to be, and in order to change he needs to choose to turn away from his sin.

If the Scriptures are to believed, one must conclude that there is an aspect of moral failure in alcoholism. Paul writes that drunkards will not inherit the kingdom of God (Galatians 5:21). He includes a number of others that will not enter heaven, including thieves, extortionists, and the sexually immoral. He does not list one physical disease that would exclude people from heaven. He says nothing about cancer, heart disease, blood problems, or any other physical malady. He lists conditions that relate to human behavior. Therefore we must conclude that alcoholism is not a disease in the normal sense of the word.

Some would argue that the fact that some individuals can drink all their lives and not become alcoholics, while others quickly fall into it, is surely evidence that it must be a disease which has its origins in the genes. Yet we find this is true with nearly all manner of sin. Some people can enjoy eating and never become gluttons, while others struggle with weight all their lives. Some individuals are prone to anger and violence from their earliest days, while others never seem to be affected. Does this mean that all sinful behavior is genetically caused, and we should not be held accountable for it? If so, then the whole Bible is a fraud, and is meaningless. The Scriptures emphatically state that "everyone of us shall give account of himself unto God" (Romans 14:12). The very nature of Christ's death on the cross is a powerful testimony of the guilt of man's sin, and the need for atonement. Jesus did not come to die for our genetic aberrations; He died for our sins.

WHERE THE CHURCH HAS MISSED IT

For the most part, the evangelical church has instinctively known that alcoholism is more than a physical disease, and that it would be foolish to remove the idea of moral failure from it. Yet frequently we have erred in the other direction, and have failed to recognize its addictive nature. We have assumed that a little pulpit pounding, a liberal dose of hellfire and brimstone, and a pinch of shame would be sufficient to get the alcoholic to see the error of his ways and turn to a life of sobriety. We have thundered forth God's moral law and forgotten that only the gospel has the power to set men free. While the liberals ignore Christ in their preoccupation with psychological buzz words and therapies, the conservatives too often ignore the Savior, in our zeal to "speak out against sin."

The secular world is right about one thing: alcoholism is a force so powerful that it will never be overcome merely by one's will power. The Alcoholics Anonymous group has realized this, declaring in step one of their 12 steps to recovery: "We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable."

What is especially sad about Terry McGovern's shortened life is that all she was looking for could have been found in Jesus. The self image she lacked could have been realized, once she saw that God had loved her with an everlasting love, and had given her purpose, meaning, and dignity in life by calling her to His service. The depression that she fought all her life could have been overcome by Him who said "These things I have spoken to you that My joy might be in you, and that your joy might be full." The desperate need she had for acceptance could have been more than fulfilled by the One who said, "He that comes unto Me, I will in no wise cast out." And her constant failure to achieve sobriety in her own strength could have been turned into victory as she discovered the depths of what Paul referred to when he exclaimed, "Sin shall not have dominion over you, for you are not under law but under grace" (Romans 6:14).

I was amazed to see how closely the Alcoholics Anonymous groups followed Scriptural truths in their 12 Steps. Recognizing one's own powerlessness over sin, believing that God does have the power to restore, deciding to turn one's life over to Him, acknowledging the exact nature of wrongs, asking Him to remove shortcomings, and making amends to people that you have hurt can all be found to have their roots in the Scriptures. What AA does not say, and what has to be recognized, is that it is only through the power of the cross of Jesus, and His mighty resurrection that victory will come. The same Jesus who declared, "He that sins is a slave of sin," also proclaimed, "If the Son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed" (John 8:36). God has invested His power to liberate humanity in a Person, and that Person is Christ. It is not a doctrine, not a philosophy, or a therapy group that can save us; it is the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. He may use groups like AA to help us, but He must be the focus of our attention and He must receive the glory. He alone is worthy.