Step Eleven
Prayer and meditation are our main ways of staying consciously connected with God.
Many in AA are active people who enjoy dealing with life's realities, usually for the first time in their lives, and they work hard to help the next alcoholic who comes along. So it's not surprising that they often overlook serious meditation and prayer as something not really necessary. Sure, they feel it might help them handle an occasional emergency, but at first many see it as some mysterious skill that belongs to clergy, from which they might get secondhand benefits. Or perhaps they don't believe in these things at all.
For certain newcomers and those former skeptics who still see their AA group as their higher power, claims about the power of prayer may still be unconvincing or quite objectionable, despite all the logic and experience proving it works. Those who once felt this way can certainly understand and sympathize. They remember how something deep inside them kept rebelling against the idea of surrendering to any God. Many had strong logic too, which "proved" there was no God at all. What about all the accidents, sickness, cruelty, and injustice in the world? What about all those unhappy lives that resulted from unfortunate circumstances and uncontrollable situations? Surely there could be no justice in this system, and therefore no God at all.
Sometimes they took a slightly different approach. Sure, they said to themselves, something probably came before everything else. No doubt the universe had a "first cause" of some sort—maybe the God of energy, hot and cold by turns. But certainly there was no evidence of a God who knew or cared about human beings. They liked AA just fine and were quick to say it had done miracles. But they resisted meditation and prayer as stubbornly as a scientist who refuses to do a certain experiment because it might prove their favorite theory wrong. Of course, they finally did experiment, and when unexpected results followed, they felt different—in fact, they knew different—and so they were sold on meditation and prayer. And that, experience has shown, can happen to anybody who tries. It's been well said that "almost the only people who scoff at prayer are those who never tried it enough."
Those who've come to use prayer regularly wouldn't do without it any more than they'd refuse air, food, or sunshine. And for the same reason. When someone refuses air, light, or food, the body suffers. When they turn away from meditation and prayer, they likewise deprive their minds, emotions, and intuition of vitally needed support. Just as the body can fail without proper nourishment, so can the soul. Everyone needs the light of God's reality, the nourishment of God's strength, and the atmosphere of God's grace. The experiences of AA life confirm this timeless truth to an amazing degree.
There's a direct connection between self-examination, meditation, and prayer. Taken separately, these practices can bring much relief and benefit. But when they're logically related and woven together, the result is an unshakable foundation for life. Now and then one may catch a glimpse of that ultimate reality which is God's kingdom. And they'll be comforted and assured that their own place in that realm will be secure as long as they try, however imperfectly, to find and do the will of their Creator.
As has been shown, self-searching is how one brings new vision, action, and grace to bear on the dark and negative sides of their nature. It's a step in developing the kind of humility that makes it possible to receive God's help. Yet it's only a step. One will want to go further.
One will want the good that's in all people, even in the worst of them, to grow and flourish. They'll certainly need fresh air and plenty of nourishment. But first of all, they'll want sunlight—nothing much can grow in the dark. Meditation is the step into the sun. How, then, should one meditate?
The actual experience of meditation and prayer across the centuries is, of course, immense. The world's libraries and places of worship are treasure troves for all seekers. Many hope that every AA member who has a religious connection that emphasizes meditation will return to that practice with renewed dedication. But what about the rest who aren't so fortunate and don't even know how to begin?
Well, one might start like this. First, let's look at a really good prayer. One won't have to look far—great men and women of all religions have left us a wonderful collection. Here let's consider one that's a classic.
Its author was a man who for several hundred years has been considered a saint. One needn't be put off by that fact, because although he wasn't an alcoholic, he did, like many in recovery, go through intense emotional pain. And as he came out the other side of that painful experience, this prayer expressed what he could then see, feel, and hope to become:
Lord, make me a channel of your peace—that where there is hatred, I may bring love—that where there is wrong, I may bring the spirit of forgiveness—that where there is discord, I may bring harmony—that where there is error, I may bring truth—that where there is doubt, I may bring faith—that where there is despair, I may bring hope—that where there are shadows, I may bring light—that where there is sadness, I may bring joy. Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort than to be comforted—to understand, than to be understood—to love, than to be loved. For it is by self-forgetting that one finds. It is by forgiving that one is forgiven. It is by dying that one awakens to Eternal Life. Amen.
As beginners in meditation, one might now reread this prayer several times very slowly, savoring every word and trying to absorb the deep meaning of each phrase and idea. It will help if all resistance to what this spiritual friend says can be dropped. In meditation, debate has no place. One rests quietly with the thoughts of someone who knows, so that they may experience and learn.
Like lying on a sunlit beach, one can relax and breathe deeply of the spiritual atmosphere that the grace of this prayer provides. One can become willing to participate and be strengthened and lifted up by the pure spiritual power, beauty, and love that these magnificent words carry. One can look at the ocean and ponder its mystery; lift their eyes to the far horizon, beyond which they'll seek all those wonders still unseen.
"Come on!" somebody says. "This is nonsense. It isn't practical."
When such thoughts interrupt, one might recall, a bit sheepishly, how much value they used to place on imagination as it tried to create reality out of bottles. Yes, they enjoyed that kind of thinking, didn't they? And though they're sober now, don't they often try to do much the same thing? Perhaps their problem wasn't that they used their imagination. Perhaps the real trouble was their almost complete inability to point imagination toward the right goals. There's nothing wrong with constructive imagination—all solid achievement rests on it. After all, no one can build a house until they first envision a plan for it. Well, meditation is like that too; it helps envision spiritual goals before trying to move toward them. So let's get back to that sunlit beach—or to the plains or mountains, if you prefer.
When such simple methods have been used to put oneself in a mood where they can focus without distraction on constructive imagination, one might proceed like this:
Once more one reads the prayer and again tries to see what its inner essence is. They'll think about the man who first spoke this prayer. First of all, he wanted to become a "channel." Then he asked for the grace to bring love, forgiveness, harmony, truth, faith, hope, light, and joy to every human being he could.
Next came the expression of a personal aspiration and hope. He hoped, God willing, that he might be able to find some of these treasures too. This he would try to do through what he called self-forgetting. What did he mean by "self-forgetting," and how did he plan to accomplish that?
He thought it was better to give comfort than to receive it; better to understand than to be understood; better to forgive than to be forgiven.
This much could be a fragment of what's called meditation—perhaps our very first attempt at a mood, a flight into the realm of spirit, if you like. It should be followed by a good look at where we stand now and a further look at what might happen in our lives if we could move closer to the ideal we've been trying to glimpse. Meditation is something that can always be further developed. It has no boundaries of width or height. Aided by whatever instruction and examples we can find, it's essentially an individual adventure, something each of us works out in our own way. But its purpose is always the same: to improve our conscious contact with God, with God's grace, wisdom, and love. And let's always remember that meditation is intensely practical. One of its first results is emotional balance. With it, we can broaden and deepen the channel between ourselves and God as we understand God.
Now, what about prayer? Prayer is lifting the heart and mind to God—and in this sense it includes meditation. How do we go about it? And how does it fit with meditation? Prayer, as commonly understood, is a request to God. Having opened our channel as best we can, we try to ask for those right things that we and others need most. And we think the full range of our needs is well defined by that part of Step Eleven which says: "...knowledge of God's will for us and the power to carry that out." A request for this fits into any part of our day.
In the morning we think about the hours ahead. Perhaps we think about our day's work and the chances it may give us to be useful and helpful, or about some special problem it may bring. Possibly today will continue a serious and still unresolved problem from yesterday. Our immediate temptation will be to ask for specific solutions to specific problems and for the ability to help other people the way we've already decided they should be helped. In that case, we're asking God to do it our way. Therefore, we should consider each request carefully to see what its real value is. Even when making specific requests, it's wise to add this qualification to each one: "...if it be Your will." We ask simply that throughout the day God give us the best understanding of God's will that we can have for that day, and that we be given the grace to carry it out.
As the day goes on, we can pause where situations must be met and decisions made, and renew the simple request: "Your will, not mine, be done." If our emotional disturbance happens to be great at these points, we'll more surely keep our balance if we remember and repeat to ourselves a particular prayer or phrase that has appealed to us in our reading or meditation. Just saying it over and over will often help us clear a channel clogged with anger, fear, frustration, or misunderstanding, and allow us to return to the surest help of all—our search for God's will, not our own, in moments of stress. At these critical moments, if we remind ourselves that "it is better to comfort than to be comforted, to understand than to be understood, to love than to be loved," we'll be following the intent of Step Eleven.
Of course, it's reasonable and understandable that the question is often asked: "Why can't we take a specific and troubling problem straight to God and get sure and definite answers to our requests through prayer?"
This can be done, but it has risks. We've seen AA members ask with great earnestness and faith for God's explicit guidance on matters ranging from a devastating domestic or financial crisis to correcting a minor personal fault, like being late. Quite often, however, the thoughts that seem to come from God aren't answers at all. They turn out to be well-intentioned unconscious rationalizations. The AA member, or indeed any person, who tries to run their life rigidly by this kind of prayer—by this self-serving demand for God's replies—is a particularly disturbing individual. To any questioning or criticism of their actions, they instantly point to their reliance on prayer for guidance in all matters great and small. They may have forgotten the possibility that their own wishful thinking and the human tendency to rationalize have distorted their so-called guidance. With the best of intentions, they tend to force their own will into all sorts of situations and problems with the comfortable assurance that they're acting under God's specific direction. Under such an illusion, they can of course create great chaos without meaning to.
We also fall into another similar temptation. We form ideas about what we think God's will is for other people. We say to ourselves, "This person should be cured of their terminal illness," or "That person should be relieved of their emotional pain," and we pray for these specific things. Such prayers are, of course, fundamentally good acts, but often they're based on the assumption that we know God's will for the person we're praying for. This means that alongside an earnest prayer there can be a certain amount of presumption and arrogance in us. It's AA's experience that particularly in these cases we should pray that God's will, whatever it is, be done for others as well as for ourselves.
In AA, experience has shown that the actual good results of prayer are beyond question. They're matters of knowledge and experience. All those who have persisted have found strength not ordinarily their own. They've found wisdom beyond their usual capability. And they've increasingly found a peace of mind that can stand firm in the face of difficult circumstances.
Many discover that they do receive guidance for their lives to about the extent that they stop making demands on God to give it to them on order and on their terms. Almost any experienced AA member will tell how their affairs have taken remarkable and unexpected turns for the better as they tried to improve their conscious contact with God. They'll also report that out of every season of grief or suffering, when God's hand seemed heavy or even unjust, new lessons for living were learned, new resources of courage were discovered, and finally, inevitably, the conviction came that God does "move in mysterious ways God's wonders to perform."
All this should be very encouraging news for those who recoil from prayer because they don't believe in it, or because they feel cut off from God's help and direction. All of us, without exception, go through times when we can pray only with the greatest effort of will. Occasionally we go even further than this. We're seized with a rebellion so sickening that we simply won't pray. When these things happen, we shouldn't think too badly of ourselves. We should simply resume prayer as soon as we can, doing what we know is good for us.
Perhaps one of the greatest rewards of meditation and prayer is the sense of belonging that comes to those who practice them. They no longer live in a completely hostile world. They're no longer lost and frightened and without purpose. The moment they catch even a glimpse of God's will, the moment they begin to see truth, justice, and love as the real and eternal things in life, they're no longer deeply disturbed by all the seeming evidence to the contrary that surrounds them in purely human affairs. They know that God lovingly watches over them. They know that when they turn to God, all will be well with them, here and hereafter.