Step Seven: Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
Since this Step so specifically concerns itself with humility,
we should pause here to consider what humility is
and what the practice of it can mean to us.
Indeed, the attainment of greater humility is the foundation
principle of each of A.A.'s Twelve Steps. For without
some degree of humility, no alcoholic can stay sober at all.
Nearly all A.A.'s have found, too, that unless they develop
much more of this precious quality than may be required
just for sobriety, they still haven't much chance of becoming
truly happy. Without it, they cannot live to much useful
purpose, or, in adversity, be able to summon the faith that
can meet any emergency.
Humility, as a word and as an ideal, has a very bad time
of it in our world. Not only is the idea misunderstood; the
word itself is often intensely disliked. Many people haven't
even a nodding acquaintance with humility as a way of life.
Much of the everyday talk we hear, and a great deal of what
we read, highlights man's pride in his own achievements.
With great intelligence, men of science have been forcing
nature to disclose her secrets. The immense resources
now being harnessed promise such a quantity of material
blessings that many have come to believe that a man-made
millennium lies just ahead. Poverty will disappear, and
there will be such abundance that everybody can have all
the security and personal satisfactions he desires. The theory seems to be that once everybody's primary instincts are
satisfied, there won't be much left to quarrel about. The
world will then turn happy and be free to concentrate on
culture and character. Solely by their own intelligence and
labor, men will have shaped their own destiny.
Certainly no alcoholic, and surely no member of A.A.,
wants to deprecate material achievement. Nor do we enter
into debate with the many who still so passionately cling to
the belief that to satisfy our basic natural desires is the main
object of life. But we are sure that no class of people in the
world ever made a worse mess of trying to live by this formula
than alcoholics. For thousands of years we have been
demanding more than our share of security, prestige, and
romance. When we seemed to be succeeding, we drank to
dream still greater dreams. When we were frustrated, even
in part, we drank for oblivion. Never was there enough of
what we thought we wanted.
In all these strivings, so many of them well-intentioned,
our crippling handicap had been our lack of humility. We
had lacked the perspective to see that character-building
and spiritual values had to come first, and that material satisfactions
were not the purpose of living. Quite
characteristically, we had gone all out in confusing the ends
with the means. Instead of regarding the satisfaction of our
material desires as the means by which we could live and
function as human beings, we had taken these satisfactions
to be the final end and aim of life.
True, most of us thought good character was desirable,
but obviously good character was something one needed to
get on with the business of being self-satisfied. With a proper display of honesty and morality, we'd stand a better
chance of getting what we really wanted. But whenever we
had to choose between character and comfort, the character-
building was lost in the dust of our chase after what we
thought was happiness. Seldom did we look at characterbuilding
as something desirable in itself, something we
would like to strive for whether our instinctual needs were
met or not. We never thought of making honesty, tolerance,
and true love of man and God the daily basis of living.
This lack of anchorage to any permanent values, this
blindness to the true purpose of our lives, produced another
bad result. For just so long as we were convinced that we
could live exclusively by our own individual strength and
intelligence, for just that long was a working faith in a
Higher Power impossible. This was true even when we believed
that God existed. We could actually have earnest
religious beliefs which remained barren because we were
still trying to play God ourselves. As long as we placed
self-reliance first, a genuine reliance upon a Higher Power
was out of the question. That basic ingredient of all humility,
a desire to seek and do God's will, was missing.
For us, the process of gaining a new perspective was
unbelievably painful. It was only by repeated humiliations
that we were forced to learn something about humility. It
was only at the end of a long road, marked by successive
defeats and humiliations, and the final crushing of our selfsufficiency,
that we began to feel humility as something
more than a condition of groveling despair. Every newcomer
in Alcoholics Anonymous is told, and soon realizes for
himself, that his humble admission of powerlessness over alcohol is his first step toward liberation from its paralyzing
grip.
So it is that we first see humility as a necessity. But this
is the barest beginning. To get completely away from our
aversion to the idea of being humble, to gain a vision of humility
as the avenue to true freedom of the human spirit, to
be willing to work for humility as something to be desired
for itself, takes most of us a long, long time. A whole lifetime
geared to self-centeredness cannot be set in reverse all
at once. Rebellion dogs our every step at first.
When we have finally admitted without reservation that
we are powerless over alcohol, we are apt to breathe a great
sigh of relief, saying, “Well, thank God that's over! I'll never
have to go through that again!” Then we learn, often to
our consternation, that this is only the first milestone on the
new road we are walking. Still goaded by sheer necessity,
we reluctantly come to grips with those serious character
flaws that made problem drinkers of us in the first place,
flaws which must be dealt with to prevent a retreat into alcoholism
once again. We will want to be rid of some of
these defects, but in some instances this will appear to be an
impossible job from which we recoil. And we cling with a
passionate persistence to others which are just as disturbing
to our equilibrium, because we still enjoy them too much.
How can we possibly summon the resolution and the willingness
to get rid of such overwhelming compulsions and
desires?
But again we are driven on by the inescapable conclusion
which we draw from A.A. experience, that we surely
must try with a will, or else fall by the wayside. At this stage of our progress we are under heavy pressure and coercion
to do the right thing. We are obliged to choose
between the pains of trying and the certain penalties of failing
to do so. These initial steps along the road are taken
grudgingly, yet we do take them. We may still have no very
high opinion of humility as a desirable personal virtue, but
we do recognize it as a necessary aid to our survival.
But when we have taken a square look at some of these
defects, have discussed them with another, and have become
willing to have them removed, our thinking about
humility commences to have a wider meaning. By this time
in all probability we have gained some measure of release
from our more devastating handicaps. We enjoy moments
in which there is something like real peace of mind. To
those of us who have hitherto known only excitement, depression,
or anxiety— in other words, to all of us— this
newfound peace is a priceless gift. Something new indeed
has been added. Where humility had formerly stood for a
forced feeding on humble pie, it now begins to mean the
nourishing ingredient which can give us serenity.
This improved perception of humility starts another
revolutionary change in our outlook. Our eyes begin to
open to the immense values which have come straight out
of painful ego-puncturing. Until now, our lives have been
largely devoted to running from pain and problems. We
fled from them as from a plague. We never wanted to deal
with the fact of suffering. Escape via the bottle was always
our solution. Character-building through suffering might be
all right for saints, but it certainly didn't appeal to us.
Then, in A.A., we looked and listened. Everywhere we saw failure and misery transformed by humility into priceless
assets. We heard story after story of how humility had
brought strength out of weakness. In every case, pain had
been the price of admission into a new life. But this admission
price had purchased more than we expected. It brought
a measure of humility, which we soon discovered to be a
healer of pain. We began to fear pain less, and desire humility
more than ever.
During this process of learning more about humility, the
most profound result of all was the change in our attitude
toward God. And this was true whether we had been believers
or unbelievers. We began to get over the idea that
the Higher Power was a sort of bush-league pinch hitter, to
be called upon only in an emergency. The notion that we
would still live our own lives, God helping a little now and
then, began to evaporate. Many of us who had thought ourselves
religious awoke to the limitations of this attitude.
Refusing to place God first, we had deprived ourselves of
His help. But now the words "Of myself I am nothing, the
Father doeth the works" began to carry bright promise and
meaning.
We saw we needn't always be bludgeoned and beaten
into humility. It could come quite as much from our voluntary
reaching for it as it could from unremitting suffering. A
great turning point in our lives came when we sought for
humility as something we really wanted, rather than as
something we must have. It marked the time when we
could commence to see the full implication of Step Seven:
"Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings."
As we approach the actual taking of Step Seven, it might be well if we A.A.'s inquire once more just what our
deeper objectives are. Each of us would like to live at peace
with himself and with his fellows. We would like to be assured
that the grace of God can do for us what we cannot
do for ourselves. We have seen that character defects based
upon shortsighted or unworthy desires are the obstacles that
block our path toward these objectives. We now clearly see
that we have been making unreasonable demands upon
ourselves, upon others, and upon God.
The chief activator of our defects has been self-centered
fear - primarily fear that we would lose something we already
possessed or would fail to get something we
demanded. Living upon a basis of unsatisfied demands, we
were in a state of continual disturbance and frustration.
Therefore, no peace was to be had unless we could find a
means of reducing these demands. The difference between
a demand and a simple request is plain to anyone.
The Seventh Step is where we make the change in our
attitude which permits us, with humility as our guide, to
move out from ourselves toward others and toward God.
The whole emphasis of Step Seven is on humility. It is really
saying to us that we now ought to be willing to try
humility in seeking the removal of our other shortcomings
just as we did when we admitted that we were powerless
over alcohol, and came to believe that a Power greater than
ourselves could restore us to sanity. If that degree of humility
could enable us to find the grace by which such a deadly
obsession could be banished, then there must be hope of the
same result respecting any other problem we could possibly
have.
|