a5 a5 child s bible 150 01

(c) Hemera Technologies 2001-2003

Let’s imagine, for the sake of argument, what would happen if the Church were to put crack cocaine in your communion bread every week.

From a practical standpoint, if you had a genetic or psychological vulnerability to addiction, you’d fairly soon become addicted to crack cocaine. Then what would happen? You’d begin to suffer from the desperate cravings of addiction. You’d become a prisoner of your own “selfish brain.” You’d find yourself behaving in ways you’re not proud of. You’d try to stop, and you’d try to control your brain’s cravings, but sometimes you’d give in to the need, break your promises, and end up hurting the people you love. You’d feel as if you’d lost your free will.

Addiction is like that. It makes you feel as if you don’t have free will. Addiction to alcohol, addiction to cocaine, addiction to sex. All share a common feature: a frightening sense that you’re not in control of your own brain and your own free will. Rare is the person who can free herself from addiction through will power alone. Most addicts need help on the long journey of healing. This is because their biological brains have been physically damaged by toxic, addictive substances. While the brain is slowly healing from the damage caused by addiction, it needs external supports. Appropriate supports might include Twelve Step meetings, in-patient medical treatment, out-patient treatment, or professional counselling (or a combination of these).

People who seek such help are not weak. They are injured, and they deserve to be cared for during the healing process in the same way that stroke victims deserve to be cared for. For people in recovery, part of the healing process is the gradual restoration of a sense of trust in their own free will. This part isn’t easy, because they remember the way their brains once took control of their choices, and made them frightened of themselves. But if they’re lucky enough to connect with a firm but compassionate mentor, they can reconstruct their lives and relationships a bit at a time. Some even find true redemption.

We’re deeply aware in our society of the dangers of addictive substances such as narcotics, alcohol, and so on. We read about the dangers of them in newspapers and magazines. We see reality shows on TV that feature the struggles of addicts and their families. We listen to our doctors preach about the perils of excessive alcohol. We tell our children to beware of drug dealers. We try to empower ourselves so we won’t be vulnerable to addiction.

Why do we do all these things? We do all these things because we understand that addiction is a bad thing. It’s bad for a person’s mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual health. Addiction ruins lives. Addiction can be treated, because it’s a medical disorder, but before an addicted person can be successfully treated, she has to accept she has a problem. She has to let go of her denial. She must want to recover her own free will. Only then can she work with her treatment team as a willing participant in the healing process. If she isn’t willing, she won’t be able to heal.

Paradoxically, of course, she must have some remnant of free will remaining to her so she can make the choice to heal. Chances of this are much better if she’s dealing with only one addiction. If she has multiple addictions — such as alcohol, tobacco, and narcotics — or if she exhibits co-morbidity — a DSM-IV diagnosis of major depression, bipolar disorder, Axis II personality disorder, or other major mental illness in addition to a diagnosis of substance use disorder — then the situation is even more complex. She may not be able to form the intent to heal until she’s received intensive care in a psychiatric facility on an involuntary basis (i.e. a committal). This is the painful but necessary reality when she’s no longer able to make caring choices for herself. When she’s no longer mentally competent — no longer able to form responsible choices, as determined by a professional review board — the community must step in and make choices on her behalf until she is healed. This is much better than forcing her to live on the street.

Okay. Back to the Church. What does any of this have to do with the Church? Well, here’s the thing. It’s hard enough to recover your free will when you’ve been dealing with only one addiction. It’s a lot harder to even understand what free will means when you’re struggling with another addiction — a hidden addiction, a secret addiction, an addiction you don’t even know you’re dealing with, because our society doesn’t treat it as an addictive disorder.

I’m talking about an addiction to status. I’m talking about status anxiety run amok. I’m talking about an addiction disorder where dopamine is not generated in the brain by ingesting addictive substances, but instead is generated through a constant process of acquiring “status points.” These “status points” cause the brain to release dopamine, a neurotransmitter that’s definitively linked to addiction. Dopamine and other neurotransmitters in the brain can generate a brief “high,” a feeling of pleasure. It’s the feeling of pleasure that people get addicted to, but it’s a temporary pleasure, a short-term high, and it can’t replace the long-term experience of trust, safety, love, devotion, and peace that human beings are capable of when they open their hearts and minds to their full potential as children of God.

Our society doesn’t believe an addiction to status is a bad thing that undermines your mental, physical, emotional and spiritual health. Instead, our society treats this addiction as a good thing, a positive thing, a necessary thing. We deny the addiction, we minimize it, by labelling status-driven behaviour as simply “Type A” or “Boardroom Material.” We encourage our children to be competitive and aggressive, to be “the best,” “the fastest,” “the strongest,” “the smartest,” “the richest.” Our societal norms and values — including those that stem from the Church’s “most saved” department — have become so interwoven and intertwined with this particular addiction that it’s hardly visible to us now. But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

The Church isn’t alone in promoting these status-soaked values. (American pop culture rivals the Church in its ability to satisfy the constant cravings of a status addict.) Neither did the Church invent these values, as a quick review of ancient civilizations will reveal. But since the time of Paul the Apostle, the orthodox Western Church has worked very hard to ensure that Christians will fall prey to this particular addiction.

Why would Church leaders do such a dreadful thing? Well, I suppose that early Church Fathers believed they were helping to forge a more solid, more obedient, more orderly society. I suppose it seemed like a good idea at the time. But the cost has been enormous. The cost of this addiction over the centuries has been the loss of free will in the brains of individual Christians. The cost has been fear — the fear of the self that accompanies addiction and its inexplicable urges. The cost has been the sheer inability of regular Christians to believe they’re worthy of God’s love and forgiveness.

That’s a pretty big cost if you ask me.

Augustine’s teachings on original sin and concupiscence actually make sense when you’re struggling against the cravings of addiction, because his theories offer you a sound explanation for your behaviour! It all makes sense . . . until you learn that at least one of your addictions has been caused — not cured — by the Church’s own teachings on sin, salvation, sacraments, and separation from God.

This is why orthodox Western Christians have long felt they’re trapped in a life-long hamster wheel of pain and suffering, sin and absolution.

I don’t see how a good pious Christian could feel any other way, given the circumstances.

That’s why I follow the teachings of Jesus instead.