As one enters the treatment center, the chapel is on the immediate left.

Once inside the quiet and dimly lit space, the eye is immediately drawn to the front of the room, where the words “Came to Believe” emerge from the rock wall in raised metal letters.

Came to believe.

Those words, of course, are borrowed from Step 2 of the 12: “(We) came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”

During my 26-day stay in 2018 at this particular treatment center, I would learn to draw great comfort from those words as I sat in the chapel for closing meditations on gratitude each day. Or, if I simply happened to be in the neighborhood of the chapel on other matters, I found myself drawn to the space or even to its glass entry doors, simply to look again at those words.

Came to believe.

As a priest with 12 years of parish experience, I thought I had this “belief” business down cold. And, in truth, I did. But not as it is envisioned by the church or the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous.

I came to believe that a drink could fix anything. That was especially true in the last three months before I entered treatment, when my drinking was at its worst.<</p>

I came to believe that if I woke up bleary of mind and shaky of hand, a drink or two was a perfectly acceptable way of righting the ship.

I came to believe that if my chronic anxiety disorder was especially severe, several swallows of bourbon and water was a quick, easy and harmless way to steady my nerves.

I came to believe that as a “sophisticated social drinker,” I couldn’t very well live my best life without observing cocktail hour, which began promptly at 5 p.m. 

Except, of course, when it started at 4. Or 2. Or 12:30.

I came to believe, all right, and believe strongly in a power greater than myself. It was a power so strong that it pushed aside other aspects of my life of any importance: the recitation of the Daily Office, meaningful sermon preparation, pleasure reading, even my social life.

With regard to the latter, at some point I began finding it necessary to drink a substantial amount before get-togethers with my friends, so I could get through the evening with only drink or two, or perhaps even a couple soft drinks, so as not to arouse any suspicion. Never mind how much I must have reeked of whiskey.

I came to believe I was fooling people.

But now, more than two years and probably a thousand AA meetings later, I have now come to believe other things, different things, better things. I am once again faithful to the Daily Office. I read much and often for the sheer pleasure of it. Around 5 p.m. these days I can usually be found with a big glass of iced tea.

And even though I’m no longer working in a parish, I have come to believe I’m a better priest and that I’ve learned more about my vocation through being an alcoholic than I did in seminary.

And I came to believe in myself again, a priceless gift of God’s mercy and grace.

Laird M.+
Lawrence, KS