other groups sprang from the ashes of that one, but neither could regain the lost momentum. Usually only five or six attended, maybe a dozen. After much struggling, they closed. The irony of the whole incident is that the two members of the original group had long made their amends to each other and had rebuilt their friendship.
In the years hence I’ve had three other home groups. At each, we’ve had our share of controversies: smoking or non-smoking, open or closed meetings, literature-based or open discussion, involvement in the service structure or non-involvement, the usual distractions. Through it all, our members for the most part have experienced the unity we so desperately need through the Traditions.
In the appendices of the Big Book, the introduction to the AA Tradition reads: “… no society of men and women ever had a more urgent need for continuous effectiveness and permanent unity. We alcoholics see that we must work together and hang together, else most of us will finally die alone.”
During any controversy at a group conscience meeting, I always try to keep in mind what that old-timer told me so long ago, that the key word in Tradition Two is “may.” But whether God expresses himself or the decision is made because of a handful of “bleeding deacons,” my home group is still my family.
My prayer is that I never again have to experience what I went through in my first home group. But if I do, I hope we can resolve those differences with the help of God and continue to hang together. We must, because the option our co-founder pointed out is to die alone, and by incorporating the program in our daily lives, that should not have to be an option for any of us.
Anonymous
Try It Standing Up
July 2000
I’m very protective of my home group for the same reason that most alcoholics are: if the group doesn’t survive, neither will I. A couple of months ago at a business meeting, my home group had a heated discussion over whether or not to say the Lord’s Prayer at the end of our group’s meetings. Saying it certainly seems to contradict AA’s claim to have no affiliations with any sect or denomination. Furthermore, as a skittish newcomer, I remember being very uncomfortable sitting in a church basement saying a prayer that’s a prominent part of Christian liturgy.
But my sponsor said, “Get over it.” And I have to admit, it has never hurt me to say a prayer, especially one conceived by a loving teacher, teaching me to praise God’s name, to wish for God’s will to be done, and to remind myself I will be forgiven only to the degree that I forgive others.
The Lord’s Prayer certainly feels paternalistic. (So, does that mean we should be saying the Hail Mary instead?) The Serenity Prayer may feel less sectarian, but it stems from religion, too. So in that case, rather than wishing to shut the door on our past, maybe we should acknowledge AA’s debt to the Oxford Movement, Reverend Shoemaker, Father Dowling, and Sister Ignatia, just to name a few.
Have I managed to offend you yet? To get your juices going? Because that’s what happened at our business meeting. We all got churned up and disagreeable. And afterward, there was a hangover, a lingering air of resentment. Now when we form a circle and join hands at the end of our regular meeting, we all feel the tension. A moment that used to exemplify our unity now underscores our differences.
The idea that issues and resentments generated in a business meeting are spilling over into the “real” meeting troubles me. I suppose without business meetings, resentments might smolder anyway, but I think we fanned the fire. I got the feeling that things were just going too smoothly for us drama-loving alcoholics, so we latched onto something controversial to add a little excitement to the proceedings.
To the extent that we were just “stirring the pot,” we were following a longstanding tradition in AA. But not the Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous. One Tradition calls for us to “practice a genuine humility” and to silence “the clamor of desires and ambitions whenever these could damage the group.” For me, that clamor is the need to comment on everything, to throw in my two cents so you’ll know just how smart I am. It’s the urge to jump in and mix it up as if a business meeting were a barroom brawl. I need to practice some restraint, to emulate the example of the elder statesman in Tradition Two who “is willing to sit quietly on the sidelines patiently awaiting developments.”
My friend G. had an interesting suggestion: why not hold our business meetings standing up? I know I’d pontificate less if I had to stand more. How often have I told myself, If I have to sit through this meeting, then I should at least get to air my point of view, even if it’s already been expressed by several others. Maybe our feet are better judges of when we’ve said enough than our minds.
And if business meetings were shorter and to the point, maybe more people would get involved. Since our group conscience is how the loving God expresses himself to us, the more conscience, the more God, right? Let the primary purpose of a business meeting be to make sure the rent is paid, the key positions are filled, and there’s enough literature and sponsorship available to help the newcomer. Keep it simple. Tradition Nine says, “Alcoholics Anonymous needs the least possible organization.” Save the controversy for a letter to Grapevine. Our “meeting in print” has shown for over 50 years that it can handle controversy. It even thrives on it.
Of course, I should have a bit more faith in my group’s ability to weather contentious business meetings. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. In which case, I have just made much ado about nothing. I probably should have written this standing up.
J. W.
Maplewood, New Jersey
Trusted Servants
March 1995
(From Dear Grapevine)
Without sounding like a bleeding deacon myself, I think many people in AA would benefit from reading and examining Tradition Two. On examining this Tradition, I thought of people in AA who try to push their dogma on the rest of us and on our groups and meetings. When one person wants the group or meeting to do it his (or her) way only, that is when Tradition Two comes in, because it is the group conscience that should prevail at our business meetings and meetings in general.
Unfortunately for us, some people in AA think God put them on earth to tell the rest of us what they think we ought to do with our lives, whether we like it or not. But we don’t have to do anything we don’t want to do. To me, that is the beauty of Tradition Two, because it protects us from people like that! I think the Traditions have kept AA together for the last 50 plus years, and they will keep us together for the long run.
So, remember the Second Tradition when someone is trying to enlighten you against your wishes. You don’t have to do it and neither does the group.
Charlie W.
Tucson, Arizona
Our Way, Not My Way
February 2008
When I was drinking, I didn’t want anyone telling me what to do, mostly because I was afraid they’d tell me to stop drinking. Getting sober has required letting someone tell me what to do, not as a demand, but as a life-or-death suggestion (like taking a parachute along when you jump from an airplane). When first humbled by my alcoholism, I found it easy to follow instructions. As a result, I developed a lot of habits that are good for maintaining my sobriety, such as going to meetings, reading the literature, doing service work, etc. But as time marched on, I found some new suggestions harder to swallow. I also found myself with a bit of what I call sober pride, which is the belief that I know about AA and staying sober since I have such-and-such time away from my last drink. It’s logical. If I have time, I must be doing something right. If I’m doing something right, then I should know what that is. Maybe I know what’s best for me now. Maybe I even know what’s best for you.
My home group has a nice way of taking its inventory on a regular basis. Every month, we get together and ask ourselves two simple questions: “Are we really