I am not an Episcopalian by birth, but when I found the Episcopal Church, I knew it was for me. Having been raised in a liturgical church, the liturgy was meaningful to me. The sacraments are important. The cycle of the church year makes sense to me. It is meaningful to me to participate in a church setting that raises up women, people of color, and members of the LGBTQ+ community. I appreciate that Episcopal clergy can be married if they choose. It is important to be a part of a church that maintains the apostolic succession and the historic episcopate. Anglican and Episcopal theology represents Christianity in context. If God is omnipresent, then I’m pretty sure he doesn’t need our worship style to be exactly the same in the United States as it is, for instance, in Spain. Christians in different parts of the world develop their relationships with Jesus Christ in different ways, and the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion allow for these relationships to grow as they need to. Nothing is forced.
While I think the Episcopal Church is a good church, I understand it is not perfect. The Church is made of people and people don’t always behave appropriately. For example, it pains me to know that the Episcopal Church did not oppose slavery in the early days of our nation’s history. In fact, many parishes were built by enslaved people. Virginia Theological Seminary was built by enslaved people and sits on a former plantation. Racism has existed in the Episcopal Church since its earliest days. I’m also saddened by the division in the Episcopal Church. Since the 1700s, the denomination has continued to fracture. In the 20th century, the church fractured because of theology that was seen as “overly Catholic.” It also fractured over the theology of the “new Prayer Book,” the 1979 Book of Common Prayer that is still in use today. We fractured over disagreements about the ordination of women in the 1970s and the elevation of Gene Robinson to bishop in the early 2000s. Now, there is even a new breakaway denomination called the Anglican Church of North America, or ACNA, which competes with the Episcopal Church and aspires to operate as the official American representative in the Anglican Communion. While all these concerns are challenging, they all seem to be acknowledged and openly discussed. We’re working toward healing and making amends where we can. But there’s another concern I have with the Episcopal Church that too often is ignored or swept under the rug. For its entire existence, the Episcopal Church has had an unhealthy relationship with alcohol.
There are so many jokes about alcohol in the Episcopal Church. You may have heard some of them. “Where four Episcopalians are gathered, there is sure to be a fifth.” Or the modification, “Where two or three are gathered, there will be a fifth.” Or this one: “How many Episcopalians does it take to change a light bulb? Two: one to change the bulb and one to pour the scotch.” Episcopalians jokingly call themselves whiskeypalians. For as long as our church has been a church, Episcopalians have taken pride in our imbibing, and it has become a de facto part of Episcopal DNA.
I enjoy a beverage as much as anyone. I enjoy cold beer, especially with temperatures as high as they have been. I like white wines and part of my ritual at the airport is to grab a gin and tonic at the Delta Sky Lounge before a flight or during a connection. I’m sure many of us consume alcohol on occasion. As long as it’s consumed responsibly, alcohol is not inherently evil. In the scriptures, Jesus drank wine. On one occasion, he turned water into wine. At the Last Supper, he took a cup of wine and told his disciples to drink its contents as his blood. He instructed us to continue to do this in his memory.
At the same time, it is important for the Episcopal Church and for its members to be mindful of our relationship with alcohol. In 2014, Bishop Heather Cook of the Diocese of Maryland, had too much to drink. She still got behind the wheel of her car and went for a drive. While out and about, she hit cyclist Thomas Palermo. Palermo did not survive the collision. Bishop Cook fled the scene. She was charged, and later convicted, of drunk driving, leaving the scene of an accident, texting and driving, and vehicular manslaughter. While her ordination cannot ever be undone sacramentally speaking, she was deposed from her ministerial duties after her conviction. She served prison time and is no longer licensed to function in the capacity of an ordained minister in the Church.
While Bishop Cook’s story is tragic, it is not unique. It simply is a high-profile example of alcohol abuse amongst Episcopalians. A disproportionate number of clergy resort to substance abuse for a number of reasons. The life of a cleric can be stressful. Sometimes it can be lonely. Sometimes escaping to a bottle seems to be an effective way to unwind after a stressful day. Lay and ordained Episcopalians have long taken pride in their successful work lives. While work ethic is a good thing, success at work often brings stress with it. This stress can be too easily soothed with a sip (or several) from a highball glass. Social events at Episcopal churches have long featured alcohol. How many of us remember attending a “Shrimp and Beer” supper? How about “Beer and Hymns?” Certainly, “Wine and Cheese Tasting.” During seminary, alcohol was available in abundance several times per week as part of community night. Friday evening prayer was not complete without a sherry mixer to close out the week. Clergy events always have a flowing supply of adult beverages. The availability of alcoholic drinks is appreciated. It also is something we ought to maintain awareness of. For Episcopalians and other Christians, it is important to remain mindful of how we promote and consume alcohol, and how we support our peers who choose not to partake.
Because of Episcopalians’ complicated relationship with liquor, it is no coincidence that an Episcopal priest, the Rev. Sam Shoemaker, was influential in the founding of Alcoholics Anonymous, the most famous treatment program in the world. AA and other 12-Step programs continue to occupy church basements and parish halls and operate as ministry extensions of the host sites. While drinking is not necessarily problematic, excessive drinking and abuse certainly is. We don’t need to consume spirits to maintain our relationship with the Spirit. So how do we remain mindful and ensure that our use does not become abuse?
I have my own recommendations. They are informed by my own upbringing in an alcoholic family system, my studying of family systems theory, and my work with hospital patients who struggle with alcohol abuse. They also are informed by my interactions with fellow Episcopalians. Sadly, much of the Episcopal Church operates as an alcoholic system. This is probably one reason that the Episcopal Church felt like home to me. Just because a system is not healthy, it doesn’t mean that system doesn’t make people feel normal. Essentially, the church needs to work to move away from these alcoholic system tendencies.
What is an alcoholic tendency? These are behaviors that are often employed by addicts. However, it is important to emphasize that one need not be an addict to engage in alcoholic tendencies. One of the biggest alcoholic tendencies is secrecy. Remember the other old joke that says, “I’m not an alcoholic, I’m a drunk. Alcoholics go to meetings”? What makes this humorous is that the person saying it is being dishonest. The person is keeping his behavior a secret. Secret keeping takes many forms. Sometimes it’s saying, “I only had two or three beers,” when the tally is actually closer to six or seven. Sometimes it’s saying, “I only drink occasionally,” even though most people likely wouldn’t consider “nightly” to be an appropriate definition of the word “occaisionally.” Sometimes it’s covering tracks or “flying below the radar” so as to not get caught doing something potentially troublesome. Have you ever heard, “It’s easier to get forgiveness than permission”? While this might be true on some level, it isn’t healthy behavior. It’s much healthier to ask permission, even if we know the answer might be no. If the answer is no and we know it up front, then at least we’re not taking unnecessary risks of getting into trouble. How does this rear its head in the Church? I’ll give you an example. The week I was ordained a deacon, my ordaining bishop told me, “There are going to be some things you’re going to want to do and if you ask me about them, I’m going to have to say no.” That sounds a whole lot like, “if you want to do something, just do it and don’t ask permission.” It was the worst advice I’ve ever had in my life and some of the worst advice a bishop could possibly give. Do you know why the first of the 12 steps is admitting a problem? The reason AA participants say, “I’m an alcoholic”? It’s because it takes away the power of the secret. It’s out there. Healing can’t take place unless the secret is out in the open. If we say it out loud and then realize the world doesn’t collapse, then it all of a sudden doesn’t feel like such a burden any longer.
The Episcopal Church can continue to acknowledge that the Heather Cook event was not an isolated incident. We already have modified the church canons surrounding the promotion and serving of alcohol at church-sanctioned events. We already host AA and other 12-step meetings in many of our parishes. But we can continue to look for ways to support people who are struggling with addiction and those who care for them. A mentor of mine, the Rev. Lincoln Ure, used to tell addicts that their addiction is not their fault, but it is their work. It is kind that we refrain from shaming addicts (who already struggle with immense shame as it is), but also help them in their work. As a church, we need to break the system that promotes secrecy, dysfunction, and lack of transparency. Admitting we have a problem is always the first step.
While I have no plans to avoid consuming alcohol, I do pledge to stay mindful of my relationship with it. I pledge to try to focus on healthy coping mechanisms when things get tough. I commit to honoring and respecting the decisions of those who choose to refrain from drinking. I pledge to support those who struggle with addiction and their family members who also are affected. I pledge to respect the dignity of all people, including addicts and those who have drinking problems. I commit to speaking up when the Church operates in a way that demonstrates its alcoholic system, especially when the dysfunction harms the people of God. I invite you to join me in this commitment. We don’t have to avoid alcohol, but we can do our part to ensure it is consumed responsibly and in moderation.