Born Again (and again and again and again): an introduction to 12 Step spirituality

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of God.”

Those are the first words of Jesus in his Sermon on the Mount. They are the only words possible for this the beginning of this series, and I’ll spend the next ten weeks or so telling you why.

The Twelve Steps are a program put together initially by two men, Bill W., an insurance salesman, and Dr. Bob, a surgeon, in their founding of Alcoholics Anonymous, in the 1930’s. That program has saved the lives of thousands and thousands of persons since that time, and remains relatively unchanged since its earliest beginnings.

But this will not be a series about alcoholism, although a drunk or two may show up in a story from time to time. It will not be a series about overeating, narcotics, sexual misbehavior, gambling, or even religious addictions, even though some of those persons, too, might have a word or two with us.

This is will be a series about the poor in spirit, and finding the Kingdom of God, which, Jesus also said, is already right there in each of them.

Now, the challenge for me is to transform a series about “them”- those people- into a series that is meaningful to us- all of us, the rest of us. My challenge, our challenge, is to discover what it is that all humans share with each other, and what all humans share with Jesus, that caused him to point to those people at the edges of society, at the furthermost edges of hearts, and say “there I am.”

I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me. (Matthew 25: 35, 36)

You’ve no doubt realized by now that those are among the ten or so verses I could talk about every week. And that is so because they speak most loudly and clearly to me about both the mystery of Jesus and the practicality of following him. People in need, according to those words, are the people from whom we can learn the most about Jesus, by being with them, and from whom we can learn about the Kingdom of God in each of us, by serving them.

Which brings us back to “them” and “us.” Who are those people in need? Who was Jesus talking about- those people “poor in spirit?”

We understand, at least intellectually- we say the words from time to time- that “…God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” (John 3:17) Who did Jesus come to save? Who was it that he came to repair the separation for, between them and God?

Yes, indeed, it was those drunks, those addicts, those religious crazies, all of those who try to numb the pain of separation from God or others through some initially satisfying but ultimately destructive behavior. And indeed it was all of those who, grasping at the brass rings of earthly pleasures, sought to make themselves more powerful, more beautiful, more fun, more happy, but who found themselves gaining nothing but the need for more of whatever it was that they thought would make everything better.

That’s “them”: those guys.

But, have you ever been hungry or thirsty, maybe not for water or food, but for companionship, respect, love? Have you ever felt left out, in a prison of lost opportunities and personal regrets? Have you ever been the stranger, the new guy, the one passed over for a job you deserved, the one who got bullied, the one who never felt quite good enough, or smart enough, or worthy enough for what everyone else seemed to have? Or the one who felt all alone, even in a crowd?

For the fortunate ones among us, those are fleeting moments, common feelings we all share at crucial points in our lives. But for others of us- not just them, but us- for others of us those feelings become a definition of who we are. We learn to live with and even hide those feelings that grind at us in the night, that affect our decisions throughout the day, and that we even pass on to our children with about as much effort as it takes to pass a plate at the dinner table.

When we get trapped that way within our own selves, it is easy to feel separate from God, from the rhythms and the symphonies of life. We may not rush for the bottle, or a baggie filled with crystallized hope, but there are dozens of other ways we tend to shield ourselves from the truths we don’t want to face. “I have a bad temper,” we might say, somehow blaming our anger on our DNA. Or, “I’m just not very lucky”, which is a whole lot easier than admitting, “I’m afraid to try.” We may find ourselves looking out on the world through the blue lenses of regret about the past, or the red lenses of anxiety about the future. Some people find themselves almost immune from the enjoyment of today- these moments- as they nostalgically ruminate endlessly over some vague “good old days” or as they wait for, hope for, wish for some magic that will miraculously fix things in the future.

Those are all things that, left unsaid, or not confronted, build up over time into half-lives: lives lived outside the joy and the peace that God has placed within us, that God has for us within the Kingdom of heaven that is ours right now, Jesus said.

The Twelve Steps of Recovery offer anyone who enters into them, the chance, the opportunity, the assurance of being better than they were before entering into them, because they are about recovering the relationship with God that Jesus has demonstrated is possible for any human to have. It is not about being drunk and getting sober; it is not about being addicted and getting clean. It is about being broken and getting fixed- not with the tools we’ve tried and failed with in the past, but with the love and intentions of God, and because of the sacrifice and example of Jesus Christ.

Each week, we will look at one or sometimes two of the Twelve Steps. I’ll talk about their biblical counterparts and their spiritual truths. And you will, I hope, be able to see clearly, maybe even in a way that affects you personally, why I say it is possible, maybe even necessary, to be born again, and again, and again and again and again.

The Twelve Steps are about vulnerability- openness to God and with each other. They are about honesty, with ourselves and one another. They are about forgiveness, maybe above all about forgiveness- the letting go of anger and blame we hold for ourselves and others. They are about the miraculous turning of fear into love and then, finally, about being willing, willing and wanting, to share that love with others.

In Psalm 139, the psalmist wrote a powerful statement about God’s presence:

¹O Lord, you have searched me and known me.
²You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from far away.
³You search out my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
⁴Even before a word is on my tongue,
O Lord, you know it completely.
⁵You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
⁶Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is so high that I cannot attain it.

No matter what our concept of God is- we are inside that God. To try to define ourselves outside the parameters of what the natural forces of the universe are, is a uniquely human and silly endeavor. In fact, most addicts, and many of the rest of us are engaged in a way of behaving and thinking that says we are “different, special, and have different needs.” The best phrase I’ve ever heard to describe this is terminal uniqueism. People are dying- killing themselves- because they feel so unique, so different, so left out, or so special, that nothing can help them. “Nobody understands me” is their war cry as they refuse to surrender to the God who loves them.

⁷Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?
⁸If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
⁹If I take the wings of the morning
and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
¹⁰even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me fast.
¹¹If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light around me become night’,
¹²even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to you.

The Spirit of God blows through time. It is God’s breath, God’s intentions for all of Creation as evidenced in the harmonies and rhythms of Creation. When we try, and my oh my how some of us have tried, to step outside and away from that Spirit of God, we suffer. When we place ourselves with those harmonies and rhythms, when we allow God and those who care for us to help us escape our terminal uniqueism, we can know peace. And beyond peace, joy. We can begin to know that Kingdom of God is not some far away place that we might, if we’re good, get to enter when we die; the Kingdom of God is not a reward deserved by someone else, or something that we merely read about, or a place that we can hold over someone’s head like a weapon. Blessed are the poor in spirit, theirs is- is is is is is- the Kingdom of God, right here, right now. The terminally unique don’t see that though. It is the tragedy, suffered by so many people, of lives half-lived. Lives of waiting to die. Lives blurred by alcohol, or drugs, or fear.

¹³For it was you who formed my inward parts;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
¹⁶Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.

The metaphors of God’s presence in our lives, in all of Creation, are perfect here. We are woven together in our mother’s womb and even before that, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Sounds like an evolutionary statement to me- but no matter how one reads it, it says there is way, a truth, a commonality that runs through all of humanity. We share our beginnings, we share the imprimatur of God on our souls, we share the ability to align or re-align ourselves in the wind, the Spirit of God. We share the ability to follow Jesus, to take him at his word, and to realize and let loose the Kingdom of God that is within us.

Let me summarize the rest of Psalm 139 as I read it and as I have allowed it to shape and bend my own thinking: God knows me- God knows my shortcomings, my failures, my betrayals, my mistakes. God knows all that stuff about me that ha separated from the Spirit of God so so so many times in the past and probably will again. God knows me, but loves me anyway.

As we gather around these 12 Steps over the next several months, my words may cause, from time to time, the Spirit of God to tweak a memory, or a feeling, or a new discovery about yourself that you aren’t too happy about, maybe even ashamed of. So hang on to what I’ve just said- God loves you anyway. There’s nothing any of us can do to stop that love, either. Even those in the throes of dying from their terminal uniqueism are loved, known by God, loved by God, as the persons God intended them to be.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of God.

Next week, Step One, the first and most difficult step: “We admitted we were powerless over ourselves--that our lives had become unmanageable.”

Be here, bring a friend.

Amen