Drinking & Religion: Divine Reconciliation

Most people who know me know that I was raised a PK (i.e. a Preacher's Kid). Jokes abound about how PKs are the worst of all -- there's even the old classic song about "the only boy who could ever teach me was..." you know the song. But my father was more strict than the typical protestant preachers I know. He was the fourth of ten children born into a poor Appalachian farming family. He went into the Air Force following seminary to become a chaplain, rising through the ranks and retiring after a stellar 27-year career.
Now just imagine how it feels to be slapped across the face for forgetting to say "sir" or for letting a word like "heck" or "gosh" slip out of your mouth. That is strict. We had to toe the line at all times, in all situations, and around all family, friends, and strangers. I didn't do the usual and turn my back on my religious upbringing, nor did my brother, Mark. However, the oldest brother, Alan, had rejected Christianity for intellectualism at an early age. Born a genius with a 175 IQ, Alan was at home in books, numbers, theories, socialism, sex, drugs and rock-n-roll -- quite literally. It's difficult to summarize the next 20 years or so of his life, but Alan was baptized following a remarkable conversion, citing only that he'd reached a point beyond which intellectualism could not explain -- a belief in God and the mysteries surrounding our existence was the only explanation. Six months later he was killed while riding his bike to work on a foggy October morning.
All this to say that I was raised a Christian, and I will always be a Christian, and I will die and go to be with my Lord in Heaven...someday...and I will see my brother(s) there as well.
I can drink to that...
My father was suspicious when my mother baked using vanilla extract -- after all, it had alcohol in it. How many cookies would we have to eat to get a buzz?
I'll never forget going to a party at my parents' friends' house. They had invited all the chaplains (my dad the Baptist, the Lutheran, and the Episcopalian) and their families. My brothers and I were in utter amazement as we witnessed the two other chaplains, and their wives, and our hosts drinking wine and beer -- right in front my mom and dad!! And they were laughing and having a great time, while my dad seemed to retreat into the corner - a place where his big personality never went. We never discussed that party that night or ever. It just sits in my memory as a reminder that drinking can be a very acceptable thing among a body of believers. Now, don't go out and try to convert the congregation to imbibe regularly; but, at the same time, don't cast aspersions on those believers who feel that wine is a gift from God, to enjoy in moderation and with a healthy dose of adult responsibility thrown in.
This is hard to write. My aunt was killed by a drunk driver more than thirty years ago. She was driving with another aunt and two of their children in the back seat. The others were all seriously injured, the surviving aunt spent weeks in the hospital after being given a two-percent chance of surviving! How do I then reconcile drinking at all?
I know my limits. Have I crossed them before? Yes. Without a doubt. But each day that God allows gives me reason to rejoice and to celebrate what time we do have, as well as to reflect on sins of the past. Just look around you and see what gifts you've been given and embrace your loved ones, and enjoy what you have. Share what you have with others. Give a bottle of your best to a friend. Have people over for dinner and laugh. Live life abundantly. That's how I can reconcile having a glass or two.

Ecclesiastes 9:7 (ESV)

7 Go, eat your bread with joy, and drink your wine with a merry heart, for God has already approved what you do.

Amen