Why I'm a Teetotaler

I've come to realize there are usually two responses to be expected after informing someone that I do not drink. Either their tongue will lose its capability to articulate a sentence and they respond with, "apitneougrousringlyeuting?!," or they will say "wow, good for you." From there it seems to become the goal of a lot of people to spend every waking hour of their life trying to get me to drink.

I've always found this rather amusing. What if I told them that I didn't eat... umm... I dunno... let's say... eggs. Would they make it their goal to get me to eat an egg?

"Yo, Chris, how would you like your eggs?"

"Nonexistent, please."

"Huh?"

"I don't eat eggs."

"Why not?"

"I just choose not to."

"But why?"

"Several reasons."

"C'mon man, just eat this egg."

"No thanks."

"Just do it!"

"No, really, I don't want it."

"Do iiiiiiit, do iiiiiiiiit."

"I appreciate the offer, but I really don't want to eat the egg."

"Here, this egg is on me. Have an egg, you'll like it."

"Seriously, I don't want it."

"Just take a bite--a small one. There's nothing wrong with enjoying an egg once in a while, you know."

"I'm not saying that there is, I just don't eat them."

"Whatever, dude, but I'm going to get a couple of them and enjoy me some eggs."

"Cool."

"Don't judge me!"

"I'm not judging you. You're free to eat all the eggs you want."

"I know you're judging me. I can see it."

"No, really, I'm not. Enjoy your egg."

"You sure you don't want this egg? You could have it scrambled, sunny side-up, over-easy, or boiled, or maybe even an egg made into a soup? You gotta like one of those! Here, have some ice cream with just a little dab of egg on it."

"Seriously, I don't want..."

"What about a chicken? Would you eat a chicken? Chickens were once an egg! Do you eat chicken? Let me buy you a chicken. How do you like your chicken prepared? Baked? Fried? A chicken sandwich, perhaps..."

I can't see someone having this reaction if I didn't eat eggs. It's always made me wonder: what is it about alcohol that people seem to have such an odd reaction to but not other foods?

I remember growing up and everyone would brag about how much alcohol they drank at so-and-so's party. All I would wonder in my head was why? What if I started talking about how much... umm... egg... no, I need a new analogy... how about... ummm....eggnog! What if went on about how much eggnog I had to drink over the weekend? What if I planned a party that would have tons of eggnog for everyone to consume until they started throwing up. I'm not sure this would be much of a hit. In fact, they would probably say that it would be pretty dumb to drink eggnog until you threw up.

Not so with alcohol.

Why is that?

What is it about the substance that has such an allure to it?

Is it the taste? I know it was for me when I used to drink. I loved a drink once in a while. I wouldn't always have one when I went out, but sometimes I would. Just like I wouldn't always have eggnog or eggs for breakfast, but sometimes I would. With alcohol, though, it seems to be something that people need. If you're out in public, if you're having people over, or if it's a Tuesday then there needs to be a drink in your hand. It seems to be more about something else than the taste and aroma it gives off.

Sometimes I would hear stories from others about how on Friday night they drank so much they couldn't remember any of it. Someone would reply of what a great time it must have been, and they would agree. This would cause drool to come out of my mouth as my mind began destroying itself with synapses misfiring in all directions in its attempts to make sense of such a conclusion. Apparently, alcohol was a mysterious liquid that proved the laws of logic to be false. From absolutely nothing, the best times of our lives come about.

I used to try this trick on my mother all the time when as a I teenager I deemed myself to be too cool to talk to her.

"How was the party last night, Christopher?"

"Good."

"What did you do?"

"...nuthin'."

"You did absolutely nothing, and it was good?"

"...yea..."

Last time I checked my mother doesn't know much about Aristotle, but she seemed to grasp the basics of logic. Nothing, you see, is not something. A good time can't come about from doing nothing, there would have to be, well, something. Perhaps it's just me, but I usually prefer to be aware of what is going on when I'm out having fun.

"How was the partay last night, dude?"

"It was totally awesome! I got so drunk and I can't remember any of it! It was a blast!"

"Hells yea! Wanna do it again next weekend!"

"Absolutely! I'm going to go call... hey, what's this scar? Umm.. where'd my kidney go? Oh well... But, yea, let's do it again!"

It's rather odd when you think about it. Somehow through the magic of alcohol we have some of our best times arise out of events that we can't remember much about.

It's even odder when I actually go out with people and then as the night goes on alcohol slowly takes over their mind. Conversation turns to nonsense and the same jokes are laughed at and repeated which don't make any sense at all. It's like they sold themselves out and cheapened what might be a genuine sober thrill for illusions and sometimes stupidity. In my philosophy, if you need alcohol to have a good time, then it might just be that your good times aren't really all that great. It would be like making a song better by reducing your capability to hear it and replacing it with another.

My formula for happiness is knowing truth. If you want to be happy, then you have to know truth. No one can be happy by living a lie. To know truth is to know the is-ness about reality, to know what is. Alcohol necessarily takes you away from being able to discern truth. It leads to bad judgments and bad judgments lead to regrets and sometimes worse results than that. I've known three people who were killed that would not have been killed if they had not been intoxicated at the time. I've seen my own family led down paths that might never have been visited if they refrained from drinking to the point where they lost control of their own bodies. The stories are countless of events that occurred merely because someone couldn't grasp the is-ness of the situation and acted out in ways they wish they had not. This is a fact that cannot be denied.

If happiness lies in knowing truth, and if drinking to the point of intoxication leads you away from being able to know truth, then it logically follows that getting drunk leads you away from happiness. Any feelings of happiness which might take place during the time are a false happiness arising from the mind instead of reality. It's a happiness born forth from something less than ourselves, and one cannot be liberated by something less than what we are. That is the definition of an addiction--needing something less than oneself to find satisfaction.

Of course, all this does not apply to alcohol in general, it only applies to drinking in excess. The question remains of if drinking alcohol is wrong in and of itself. That, it seems, is an issue that is unclear. Some questions of morality are unclear. Liberals like to run with this and apply it to morality in general, but that obviously does not follow from particular moral dilemmas. If you are unsure of how to answer a math problem, then it does not mean that math is relative.

When I gave up drinking over four years ago I based it largely on my newly birthed faith in Christianity and the writings of Norman Geisler. Dr. Geisler is my hero and it scares me how much I agree with him. He's written over a hundred books on every topic you can think of. No matter what he tackles it changes everything I believe in. I used to be completely reformed in my theology, but after reading his book on the relationship between God's sovereignty and a libertarian free-will I changed my beliefs to his. If anyone has ever talked to a reformed Calvinist, then you realize how impossible this task really is, but you just can't argue with Geisler. Well, you can, but you'd be wrong. And lame. Don't be lame.

One day I came across an article he had written about alcohol and why Christians should abstain from it and I made a pact to never drink again. Since then I've read different reasons for why it is not a sin for Christians to drink and they sound convincing, but I've chosen to stick to my personal commitment for reasons that have evolved since then.

(If you are reading this and happen to be a Christian, then I'm not writing to tell you that drinking is a sin. I'm not really sure if it is a sin, and I don't believe that Christianity is about legalism. It's not a system of how to live or how to be a good person, it's about being born again in Christ. Rules don't lead to being a good person. A person can follow every law ever written and still be the most evil man alive. Drinking is between you, God, and reality. I will say, however, that if you are a Christian and you drink to the point of intoxication, then you are making a very foolish decision and sinning. As Christians we are called to see the world as how Christ sees the world and if we choose to get drunk for the mere sake of getting drunk then we placing ourselves in a situation where we can no longer see the world through the lens of God's worldview. We are clouding our vision, our judgment, and our capacity to live as Christ would before a watching world. We can never know when God might bring someone across our path that needs His redemptive message, and I can guarantee you that if you're drunk you're going to be in no position to be able to present such a thing. And further, not only does remaining abstinent save me a ton of money and face, but it presents me with countless opportunities to enter into conversations about God, life, the universe, and everything. I've found that saying you don't drink is the secret password to a man's soul.)

My decision is hard at times, as I really did enjoy the occasional drink. I've never been drunk, nor ever had the desire to get drunk. (I personally believe that when my body asks me to stop dumping something into it that I should probably stop and not have to force my body to expel it out for me.) Alcohol was never any different for me than eating a really good piece of cake or pie. My plans were never conditional on if there would be a lot of pie and cake to stuff my face with, it would depend on what I wanted to do to have fun.

And so with alcohol stuck in the moral gray area of my worldview I continue to not drink for one specific reason: I've found that it's a commitment and promise that I can actually keep. God has been good to me in more ways than I can count. I constantly make stupid decisions and He's always there blessing me and giving me a pass with His grace. He looks at me and smiles, picks me up in His arms, and in turn I look Him in the eye and slap Him across the face. I don't do much for Him, I'm constantly telling Him to eff off, and yet He's always there forgiving and providing. My commitment to not drink appears to be the only sacrifice that I'm able to actually offer up to Him.

I know it's nothing special in the grand scheme of things, but it's a small and petty offering for Him on my behalf.

And that is why I don't drink.