Step Six
"Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character."
"This is the Step that
separates the men from the boys." So declares a well-loved clergyman
who happens to be one of A.A.'s greatest friends. He goes on to explain
that any person capable of enough willingness and honesty to try
repeatedly Step Six on all his faults--without any reservations
whatever--has indeed come a long way spiritually, and is therefore
entitled to be called a man who is sincerely trying to grow in the
image and likeness of his own Creator. Of course, the often disputed
question of whether God can--and will, under certain conditions--remove
defects of character will be answered with a prompt affirmative by
almost any A.A. member. To him, this proposition will be no theory at
all; it will be just about the largest fact in his life. He will
usually offer his proof in a statement like this: "Sure, I was beaten,
absolutely licked. My own willpower just wouldn't work on alcohol.
Change of scene, the best efforts of family, friends, doctors, and
clergymen got no place with my alcoholism. I simply couldn't stop
drinking, and no human being could seem to do the job for me. But when
I became willing to clean house and then asked a Higher Power, God as I
understood Him, to
give me release, my obsession to drink vanished. It was lifted right
out
of me." In A.A. meetings all over the world, statements just like this
are heard daily. It is plain for everybody to see that each sober A.A.
member has been granted a release from this very obstinate and
potentially
fatal obsession. So in a very complete and literal way, all A.A.'s have
"become entirely ready" to have God remove the mania for alcohol from
their
lives. And God has proceeded to do exactly that. Having been granted a
perfect
release from alcoholism, why then shouldn't we be able to achieve by
the
same means a perfect release from every other difficulty or defect?
This
is a riddle of our existence, the full answer to which may be only in
the
mind of God. Nevertheless, at least a part of the answer to it is
apparent
to us. When men and women pour so much alcohol into themselves that
they
destroy their lives, they commit a most unnatural act. Defying their
instinctive
desire for self-preservation, they seem bent upon self-destruction.
They
work against their own deepest instinct. As they are humbled by the
terrific
beating administered by alcohol, the grace of God can enter them and
expel
their obsession. Here their powerful instinct to live can cooperate
fully
with their Creator's desire to give them new life. For nature and God
alike
abhor suicide. But most of our other difficulties don't fall under such
a category at all. Every normal person wants, for example, to eat, to
reproduce,
to be somebody in the society of his fellows. And he wishes to be
reasonably safe and secure as he tries to attain these things. Indeed,
God made him that way. He did not design man to destroy himself by
alcohol, but He did give man instincts to help him to stay alive. It is
nowhere evident, at least in this life, that our Creator expects us
fully to eliminate our instinctual drives. So far as we know, it is
nowhere on the record that God has completely removed from any human
being all his natural drives. Since most of us are
born with an abundance of natural desires, it isn't strange that we
often
let these far exceed their intended purpose. When they drive us
blindly, or we willfully demand that they supply us with more
satisfactions or pleasures than are possible or due us, that is the
point at which we depart from the degree of perfection that God wishes
for us here on earth. That is the measure of our character defects, or,
if you wish, of our sins. If we ask, God will certainly forgive our
derelictions. But in no case does He render us white as snow and keep
us that way without our cooperation. That is something we are supposed
to be willing to work toward ourselves. He asks only that we try as
best we know how to make progress in the building of character. So Step
Six--"Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of
character"--is A.A.'s way of stating the best possible attitude one can
take in order to make a beginning on this lifetime job. This does not
mean that we expect all our character defects to be lifted out of us as
the drive to drink was. A few of them may be, but with most of them we
shall have to
be content with patient improvement. The key words "entirely ready"
underline the fact that we want to aim at the very best we know or can
learn. How many of us have this degree of readiness? In an absolute
sense practically nobody has it. The best we can do, with all the
honesty that we can summon, is to try to have it. Even then the best of
us will discover to our dismay that there is always a sticking point, a
point at which we say, "No, I
can't give this up yet." And we shall often tread on even more
dangerous
ground when we cry, "This I will never give up!" Such is the power of
our
instincts to overreach themselves. No matter how far we have
progressed,
desires will always be found which oppose the grace of God. Some who
feel they have done well may dispute this, so let's try to think it
through
a little further. Practically everybody wishes to be rid of his most
glaring
and destructive handicaps. No one wants to be so proud that he is
scorned
as a braggart, nor so greedy that he is labeled a thief. No one wants
to
be angry enough to murder, lustful enough to rape, gluttonous enough to
ruin his health. No one wants to be agonized by the chronic pain of
envy or to
be paralyzed by sloth. Of course, most human beings don't suffer these
defects
at these rock-bottom levels. We who have escaped these extremes are apt
to congratulate ourselves. Yet can we? After all, hasn't it been
self-interest,
pure and simple, that has enabled most of us to escape? Not much
spiritual
effort is involved in avoiding excesses which will bring us punishment
anyway. But when we face up to the less violent aspects of these very
same defects, then where do we stand? What we must recognize now is
that we exult in some
of our defects. We really love them. Who, for example, doesn't like to
feel
just a little superior to the next fellow, or even quite a lot
superior? Isn't it true that we like to let greed masquerade as
ambition? To think of liking lust seems impossible. But how many men
and women speak love with their lips, and believe what they say, so
that they can hide lust in a dark corner of their minds? And even while
staying within conventional bounds, many people have to admit that
their imaginary sex excursions are apt to be all dressed up as dreams
of romance. Self-righteous anger also can be very enjoyable. In a
perverse way we can actually take satisfaction from the fact that many
people annoy us, for it brings a comfortable feeling of
superiority. Gossip barbed with our anger, a polite form of murder by
character
assassination, has its satisfactions for us, too. Here we are not
trying
to help those we criticize; we are trying to proclaim our own
righteousness. When gluttony is less than ruinous, we have a milder
word for that, too;
we call it "taking our comfort." We live in a world riddled with envy.
To
a greater or less degree, everybody is infected with it. From this
defect
we must surely get a warped yet definite satisfaction. Else why would
we
consume such great amounts of time wishing for what we have not, rather
than working for it, or angrily looking for attributes we shall never
have,
instead of adjusting to the fact, and accepting it? And how often we
work
hard with no better motive than to be secure and slothful later on--
only
we call that "retiring." Consider, too, our talents for
procrastination,
which is really sloth in five syllables. Nearly anyone could submit a
good
list of such defects as these, and few of us would seriously think of
giving
them up, at least until they cause us excessive misery. Some people,
of course, may conclude that they are indeed ready to have all such
defects
taken from them. But even these people, if they construct a list of
still
milder defects, will be obliged to admit that they prefer to hang on to
some of them. Therefore, it seems plain that few of us can quickly or
easily become ready to aim at spiritual and moral perfection; we want
to settle
for only as much perfection as will get us by in life, according, of
course,
to our various and sundry ideas of what will get us by. So the
difference
between "the boys and the men" is the difference between striving for a
self-determined objective and for the perfect objective which is of
God. Many will at once ask, "How can we accept the entire implication
of Step
Six? Why--that is perfection!" This sounds like a hard question, but
practically
speaking, it isn't. Only Step One, where we made the 100 percent
admission
we were powerless over alcohol, can be practiced with absolute
perfection.
The remaining eleven Steps state perfect ideals. They are goals toward
which
we look, and the measuring sticks by which we estimate our progress.
Seen
in this light, Step Six is still difficult, but not at all impossible.
The
only urgent thing is that we make a beginning, and keep trying. If we
would gain any real advantage in the use of this Step on problems other
than alcohol, we shall need to make a brand new venture into
open-mindedness. We shall need to raise our eyes toward perfection, and
be ready to walk
in that direction. It will seldom matter how haltingly we walk. The
only
question will be "Are we ready?" Looking again at those defects we are
still unwilling to give up, we ought to erase the hard-and-fast lines
that
we have drawn. Perhaps we shall be obliged in some cases still to say,
"This I cannot give up yet...," but we should not say to ourselves,
"This
I will never give up!" Let's dispose of what appears to be a hazardous
open
end we have left. It is suggested that we ought to become entirely
willing
to aim toward perfection. We note that some delay, however, might be
pardoned.
That word, in the mind of a rationalizing alcoholic, could certainly be
given a long term meaning. He could say, "How very easy! Sure, I'll
head
toward perfection, but I'm certainly not going to hurry any. Maybe I
can
postpone dealing with some of my problems indefinitely." Of course,
this
won't do. Such a bluffing of oneself will have to go the way of many
another
pleasant rationalization. At the very least, we shall have to come to
grips
with some of our worst character defects and take action toward their
removal
as quickly as we can. The moment we say, "No, never!" our minds close
against
the grace of God. Delay is dangerous, and rebellion may be fatal. This
is
the exact point at which we abandon limited objectives, and move toward
God's will for us.