Musings on Loyalty 5-24-11

Anderson, South Carolina

A curious quirk of human nature is often observed; one making us frustrated utopians hopeful. When a group of otherwise diverse and dissimilar people are placed in harm’s way, an esprit des corps, a powerful group-wide camaraderie often takes over, charging group dynamics with a wondrous sense of co-operation and fidelity. Striking examples of life-boat effects abound during foreign occupations. Heroic and often legendary risk taking by French Resistance workers and Dutch non-Jews during World War II were staggering in their selflessness. Thousands of Jews survived because of selfless risk taking by total strangers. During the Great Depression one often saw communal forms of generosity; individuals taking it upon themselves to offer food and shelter to wandering desperate job seekers. Jeopardy of single individuals provokes legendary solitary acts of heroism. Impossible rescues are made. Rescuers wade into situations knowing their own deaths are certain, willing to embrace it to save another.

In the recovery world, the most revered inspirational writing is known as The Big Book. In it the phenomenon of dissimilar people coming together to face common peril head on is described in most endearing fashion. We are people who normally would not mix. But there exists among us a fellowship, a friendliness, and an understanding which is indescribably wonderful. We are like the passengers of a great liner the moment after rescue from shipwreck when camaraderie, joyousness, and democracy pervade the vessel from steerage to Captain’s table. Unlike the feelings of the ship’s passengers, however, our joy in escape from disaster does not subside as we go our individual ways. The feeling of having shared in a common peril is one element in the powerful cement which binds us.

This life-boat effect is considered by many in recovery to be the glue holding the unity of recovery in place. The first tradition in all twelve-step recovery groups reminds us personal recovery depends on group unity. Principles must come before personality. If group unity fails and chaos causes people to falter in their recovery, lives can be lost. For those in struggles with alcohol or drugs, this unity is critical, no less than for those organizing a desert island after shipwreck. There is an emerging goodness in people when faced with dire life-threatening circumstances; welfare of others becomes a powerful motivator of our own behavior.

I went into my church recently for a funeral; greeting those inside. A mute parishioner looked at me with a face suggesting bewilderment as to why cockroaches would be out scurrying in daylight rather than hiding behind the cabinets until nightfall. In the receiving line following the service, another grimace of similar proportion met me. Neither of these people would speak with me. In my recovery work, I visit meeting rooms in different countries and find indescribably wonderful friendliness. I wonder why it’s so conspicuously absent in a church I’ve been in for decades. In sacred Christian scriptures willingness to lay down one’s life for a friend is held up as example of love’s highest expression in human experience. It’s not often one is called to make such demonstrations of love yet we do occasionally hear of such. I wonder why greetings from long-time acquaintances at funerals seem to be too much to ask for.

A long time friend, Janice, describes the abuse of loyalty in her life. One of Janice’s girlfriends informed her she would henceforth have to choose between inviting her or a third girlfriend to group activities. Janice was coerced into taking sides, being forced to choose which of these two very good friends would earn her loyalty. Divided loyalty resulting from such ultimatums eventually caused loss of group unity and erosion of numerous once-vibrant friendships; the group faded away. It’s this kind of disruption recovery groups cannot afford. None of these women needed the social group to keep their lives on track. If this dynamic had occurred in a recovery room, people would have found excuses to relapse and the consequences could have been catastrophic.

Debra has a daughter dealing with terminal cancer. Recently this daughter took an ambulance to the hospital to be evaluated for a possible stroke. Debra had extensive surgery the day prior and was herself an in-patient dealing with post-op complications. I spent that day with Debra before, during, and after her surgery, talking with anesthesiologists and surgeons as needed, trying to be helpful. I found my decade-long friendship with Debra important at times of great personal challenge and thought this to be true for her as well. Her daughter refused to remain at the hospital for evaluation and insisted I take her home against medical advice. My refusal to do something I knew inherently dangerous caused much indignation on the part of the daughter, whom I left at the hospital. She took a cab home to an empty house. She was later determined to have had a stroke. I was astounded to find that despite being present to the mother for her surgery and then refusing to put her daughter at risk by taking her away from the hospital against medical advice, my long-standing friendships with both of them imploded. A divided loyalty cropped up and I was ‘put out’ of the group.

I can’t but wonder about the nature of loyalty in America today. Has obsession with individualism and self fulfillment brought us to a place where loyalty is to self and little else? Have we brought high school pettiness into our adult social groups, demanding our friends take sides? Do we as church members now set aside our vision for being on a shared spiritual journey and allow egoic aspects of our personalities to come before principles, shunning those in receiving lines, even refusing to “Pass the Peace”? Do we set aside long-standing history and commitment when someone doesn’t do as we expect, even when it’s in her best interest? Will we continue to discard our spouses by the millions when they don’t do as we want them to do? Will we continue to abandon our houses and neighborhoods because we find it financially expedient to do so?

Is it possible for us to practice ethical moral behavior, putting principles before personalities; doing the next right thing, thinking about what is good for the group rather than what is good for ourselves? None other than the father of modern psychiatry, Carl Jung, would suggest it’s possible. Some “have had what are called vital spiritual experiences. To me these occurrences are phenomenon. They appear to be in the nature of huge emotional displacements and rearrangements. Ideas, emotions, and attitudes which were once the guiding forces of these men are suddenly cast to one side, and a completely new set of conceptions and motives begin to dominate them.”

Will we seek a closer relationship with God and His vital spiritual experiences with the same ardor we exhibit when camping out for three days after Thanksgiving to buy some new consumer toy at the neighborhood big box retailer? God is everything or He is nothing. Either He is or He isn’t. What’s our choice to be?