A few thoughts on Teetotalism
There are two distinct types of teetotalism. One type of teetotaler views all alcohol consumption, even in moderation, as inherently bad and therefore believes that it is the moral duty of all people in all places and times to entirely abstain from it. The other views alcohol as a good creation of God, but believes it is necessary, for personal reasons, for him or her to abstain. I think the first type is very problematic, but I view myself as being more or less a teetotaler of the second type.
The 19th century Temperance movement, which began as an effort to curb excessive drinking in America and all the societal ills caused by excessive drinking—a noble effort in itself—ended in villainizing alcohol itself. The rationale behind Prohibition seems to have been that because alcohol was so prone to be abused in American society, it ought not be used at all. At face value, this makes sense, but when analyzed more closely, this is a far from convincing argument.
To hold up (A) excessive drinking and (B) complete abstinence as a society’s only options regarding alcohol, as was the eventual stance of the Temperance movement, is to pose a false dichotomy. To describe teetotalism as having been the norm of Christian history (and to therefore hold up teetotalism now as the standard all Christians ought to abide by, as some denominations do) is to revise history. Such a perspective is overly simplistic and, to use a phrase from C.S. Lewis, “provincial”. As Lewis pointed out, “Christianity arose in the Mediterranean world where, then as now, wine was as much part of the normal diet as bread.”
If we strictly apply the “That which can be abused must never be used” logic to other spheres of life, we would be unable to function at all. Going by that same logic, we could dispense with books (because they can be the occasion of wicked propaganda), we could dispense with food (because it be the occasion of gluttony or, even worse, food poisoning), we could dispense with driving or riding cars, or even horses (because they can be the occasion of fatal accidents), we could dispense with medicine (because it can be the occasion of harmful overdoses), we could dispense with stoves (because they can be the occasion for house fires), we could dispense with sports and other forms of recreation (because they can be the springboard to gambling addictions), we could dispense with weapons of self-defense (because they can also be used as weapons of aggression), and we could even dispense with religious worship (because it can be the occasion of idolatry). Philosophically, “That which can be abused must never be used” is not a sound reason for abstaining from alcohol (or anything else for that matter). There is practically nothing in a fallen world that can’t be misused.
While Scripture condemns drunkenness and gluttony, it doesn’t condemn all drinking of alcohol anymore than it condemns all eating. The Nazirites in the Old Testament were required by God to abstain from any drink coming from the fruit of the vine, which would cut out any sort of grape drink, fermented and unfermented alike. One never gets the slightest indication from the Biblical Nazirites that they went around urging the people of Israel in general to similarly abstain. No, they understood that it was necessary for them to abstain, but they didn’t condemn what they abstained from, and they didn’t condemn others for not abstaining. It is similar to a man with a broken leg foregoing a mountain hike with his friends; he knows very well that he mustn’t attempt the climb, but he doesn’t condemn those who do climb it, much less condemn the mountain itself.
To me, the appropriate starting point of any conversation regarding abstaining from alcohol is to affirm that alcohol, in itself, is not bad. The rationale behind abstaining from alcohol is similar to the rationale behind fasting. Those who fast do so for particular spiritual reasons, not because they’ve concluded that food is bad. Scripture itself describes wine as something God has given to “gladden the heart of man”. Jesus’ first miracle was turning water into wine at a wedding, and Jesus himself drank wine with his disciples at the Last Supper.
That the early Christians were using fermented wine to celebrate the Lord’s Supper is evident from the fact that Paul chastises those in Corinth for getting drunk at church. For clarity’s sake, I realize many Christians prefer to use grape juice during Communion and I’m not suggesting that churches today must use fermented wine when celebrating the Lord’s Supper. I’m only acknowledging the fact that we have no Biblical grounds to oppose its use in such a context.
If alcohol is not bad, why then would someone decide that it’s necessary to personally abstain? There could be any number of reasons. You may have struggled with alcohol addiction in your past and know that moving forward the only way to avoid falling back into the addiction is the road of complete abstinence. You may have a history of alcoholism in your family and doubt that, given your genes, you could ever successfully be a “moderate” drinker. You may be around people whose lives have been shattered by alcoholic parents or grandparents, people for whom alcohol can’t but trigger all manner of traumatic memories. You may be around others who are prone to drink to excess, and fear that if you were to drink at all, it might prompt them to overdo it. You could even abstain for budgetary reasons—alcohol is not the cheapest beverage on the market.
You may be around people whose consciences are sensitive about the topic, similar to those Paul talks about in 1 Corinthians 9 and 10 who were conscience-stricken about eating food that had been offered to Roman idols. This is likely one of the most common reasons that many Christians today take the path of teetotalism. Paul’s advice to the Christians in Corinth was that it was fine to eat such food, if you were recognized that it, like all food, comes from God, and you received it from God with a thankful heart. However, if you were with a fellow Christian who was convinced that such eating was wrong, Paul said, you should abstain for conscience’s sake—not your conscience, but for the sake of the conscience of the person who believed it was wrong.
Whether you choose to drink or not is, like the ancient Christians’ decision whether or not to eat food that had been offered to idols, between you and God. It’s supremely important that we not set ourselves up as each other’s judges on this matter. We should all strive to glorify God in all that we do, including in our eating and drinking, or abstaining from eating and drinking (1 Corinthians 10:31).


