What’s on Tap?
A book intended for young adults must inevitably reflect upon the experiences of college students, since college is a time of condensed transformation. It’s important to note that I intend any reflections about college to be applicable to all young adults, since college is where many young adults first establish their adult habits. We can learn a lot about young-adult culture by observing a college party.
With that in mind, it is important to ask: How would you summarize the current drinking climate on the average college campus?
A national survey conducted by Villanova University revealed that 80 percent of college students choose to drink.3 This number tells a story: Each student, in one way or another, will come face to face with alcohol during his or her college experience. The fact that alcohol plays such a major role on college campuses is enough of a reason to explore the theological ramifications of alcohol consumption, not to mention the frequent encounters that young adults have beyond college.
Thus, I lead to the thesis statement of this book: We must learn how to make our drinking experiences more fulfilling and less empty. We must learn how to make our drinking experiences more fulfilling and less empty.
How will this book, in your hands, help you on your journey? I am glad you asked!
First, you’ll notice along the way that I’ll frequently return to the theme that “we must learn” how to have a fulfilling drinking experience. This assumes that we don’t know how to drink well (not to be taken personally!). It also assumes that drinking in a fulfilling manner does not come naturally. It takes an effort and awareness that we must learn and practice.
Second, we should want our drinking experiences to leave us feeling “more fulfilled” and “less empty.” But what brings you fulfillment? I can’t answer that question. Only you can. But the questions I’ll ask will help you reflect on what or who brings you fulfillment. Fulfillment, in the various ways we experience it, is measured qualitatively rather than quantitatively.4 Although quantity matters in some fields, such as engineering and finance, we are not here concerned with identifying the “right” or “wrong” number of drinks. Instead, we are concerned with the effect that alcohol has on our souls, which forms the basis of my qualitative measurement.
The fact that I declared a thesis statement means that I will make an argument. I’ll try to convince you to think in a new way. As we all know, it is hard to convince people to try new things; therefore, I have dedicated an entire chapter as a rhetorical “nudge” to get you to leave the comfort of your daily grind and go out into the world. Chapter 5 is full of simple, practical actions for daily life (and most of them are legal for people of any age). I’ll raise these suggestions throughout the book, marked by sections titled “How.” I invite you now to pause reading and flip to the corresponding section in Chapter 5 (on page 148) to explore the “How” below. Take a moment to practice:
How #0: Practice Run: Learn How to Use This Book!
Turn to page 148.
Welcome back.
Disclaimer: Armchair Philosophy and Barstool Theology
“Don’t take yourself so damn seriously,” advised Father James Martin, S.J., in his commencement speech to the 2014 graduating class of Marquette University.5 “Don’t take yourself so seriously. Laugh at yourself. … Look, you’re about to graduate from one of the best schools in the country. It’s easy to get stuck up.”
Father Martin’s statement triggered a moment of déjà vu: I was transported back to the first day of Philosophy 1001: Foundations in Philosophy. My professor, Dr. Melissa Shew, sat on the table in the front of the room, looking over the faces in the class. Her first words were rehearsed, yet genuine, as they streamed from her mouth and showered our eager ears: “You are about to become philosophers, a title which carries a large responsibility.” Then her tone grew more serious: “With that being said, I want you to avoid falling into a common trap. Whatever you do, or whatever you say, do not become an ‘armchair philosopher.’”
She paused, letting us soak in the statement. After a moment of silence, she continued her train of thought. “You are probably asking yourselves, ‘What is an armchair philosopher?’ Well, armchair philosophers live up to the title; they comfortably sit in their fancy armchairs and give answers to the problems of the world. From afar they diagnose each problem and explain how to fix it without getting their hands dirty.”
I want to develop the thesis of this book along these same lines by (1) encouraging you not to take yourselves too seriously when talking about alcohol, and (2) offering an alternative, more fulfilling option than what the current culture means by “alcohol consumption.”
Sure, it is tempting to stay in the comfort of our armchairs. We see this approach time and again: Many of the theologians who have studied and written about alcohol have never left their comfortable thrones. It is easy for them to condemn or judge the actions of others when they surround themselves with the familiarity of their own thoughts and people who share the same opinions. Many of them take themselves too damn seriously, without taking others seriously enough.
This book, on the other hand, as a theology of alcohol for young adults in the twenty-first century, will not be effective if it follows the method of armchair philosophy. It must take seriously the experiences of young adults. We need a new way to talk about alcohol, one that is rooted in experience and has practical implications. It must also be born from the real lives of young adults. Only then will it be convincing and applicable.
I invite you to get up from your comfortable armchair and join me at the bar. We must become barstool theologians, out in the world. At the bar we won’t “take ourselves so damn seriously” because we’ll be opening our minds to the opinions of others. The barstool theologian engages in the theology of alcohol with a beer in hand, ready for discussion. Her philosophical dwelling place, no longer an armchair but a bar, is a natural environment for dialogue. Here she can speak her mind, question things critically, and try something new.
Sounds different, right? This new approach, like a barstool itself, may feel a bit uncomfortable at first. But I promise, once you settle in, it will start to feel right.
While we are here, I should mention that your drinks are on me. Each idea I present will be a beer for you to try. What’s the catch, you ask? I get to decide what you drink. You may like some beers more than others. Some of the flavors will be new and others will be familiar. You may even want to order the same drink twice if I have chosen well. Maybe, if I am lucky, you will recommend one of the beers to a friend. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
“Bartender, bring us a round. Let’s have a drink.”
Morality is what happens between friends. It is not the whole of the moral life, but there can be no moral life without it. Friendship stands not just as a single virtue, but also as the relationship by which people become good.
Paul Wadell, Friendship and the Moral Life
Answer the following question: What makes me who I am?
How many of you answered with “my family,” “my friends,” or “my partner”?
Many