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An Alcohol Story
A Man Questions Me about Alcohol
Restaurant Wants to Serve Alcohol
Our church meets in a small town right across the street from a new and popular Mexican restaurant. My wife and I moved to Southern Indiana on February 23, 2023 to evangelize a twenty five minute radius with 70,000 people. We want to build up a true church for its future perpetuation, starting with six attending members who are all fifty-nine and over. The Mexican restaurant opened in September, six months before we arrived.
On our first official time of door-to-door evangelism, my wife and I went together and knocked on the front door of someone right next to our meeting place. A man opened and after I introduced ourselves, before anything else he said to us, “So you are the church that won’t let the Mexican restaurant serve alcohol? Why are you keeping us from having a nice beer with our dinner?”
Indiana State Law
I told him that I didn’t know what he was talking about. Actually someone had mentioned alcohol and a restaurant to me, but I didn’t make the connection to this situation. I didn’t apologize to this neighbor for anything anyone did. Instead, I explained ours was a biblical position on alcohol. Shouldn’t churches follow the Bible in their belief and practice? Also, I knew it was Indiana law. The state of Indiana regulated this use of alcohol. If he wanted the law to change, he should take his complaint to his state legislator, not me. The regulation is the following (Ind. Code § 7.1-3-21-11):
[T]he commission may not issue a permit for a premises or approve a designated refreshment area if . . . the following appl[ies]: (1) A wall of a school or church is situated within two hundred (200) feet . . . . This section does not apply to the premises . . . if . . . the commission receives a written statement from the authorized representative of the church or school stating expressly that the church or school does not object to the issuance of the permit for the premises or approval of the designated refreshment area.
One godly member of the original six of the church earlier told the restaurant he would not write that letter. I would not write the letter either. He couldn’t. I couldn’t. Even if I believed in it, I wouldn’t do it and offend this member. Most of all, I wouldn’t write it because it would violate scripture. Our church would not do a thing that would disobey the Bible.
Habakkuk 2:15
I saw writing a letter giving permission to serve alcohol to violate Habakkuk 2:15:
Woe unto him that giveth his neighbour drink, that puttest thy bottle to him, and makest him drunken also.
God Himself is giving this “Woe.” God says, “Woe!” People in town might pressure me or us to capitulate, but I have a responsibility to God. When I weigh God versus alcohol drinkers or alcohol servers in town, I go with God. It’s one thing to break one of God’s laws. We all do. It’s totally another to support the breaking of the laws of God and encourage their transgression. That is not worshiping the Lord.
The Consequences of Alcohol Use
107,081 fentanyl deaths occurred in 2022 in the United States. Much of that moves across our porous Southern border. It is estimated that China produces 90% of that fentanyl in the United States. The fentanyl usage I’m describing is illegal. Let that sink into your head. As it does, consider the following about a legal substance in the United States: alcohol.
Alcohol is known to directly kill. Alcohol contributes to over three million deaths per year worldwide and over 140,000 a year in the United States. About forty percent of convicted murderers used alcohol before or during the crime. Alcohol related to about two-thirds of violent acts on current or former spouses or partners. In 2021,13,384 people died in alcohol-impaired driving traffic deaths. Offenders under the influence of alcohol commit 37% of sexual assaults and rapes. Four out of ten violent victimizations involve alcohol use.
Alcohol dependence very often leads to a devastating downward financial spiral. It causes eviction notices, delinquent bills, excessive court fees, diminished credit scores, and lost jobs. Many lose their family and custody of their children. Even if it doesn’t effect financial ruin, it very often brings financial strain and risk.
I’ve been to many social events that served alcohol. Alcohol caused bad behavior every time. Not once did it not make it a worse event. I found that drinkers expect teetotalers to tolerate their offensive actions. Most of the time, they don’t know how it makes them act. Drinking alcohol damages relationships. When I compare the harmful effects of illegal drugs and legal alcohol, I think hypocrisy and double standard.
Whose Fault?
Indiana state government passed the above law. This owner decided to open a restaurant less than 200 feet of our church building. To serve alcohol, the owner should follow the law of opening something further than 200 feet from where we meet. I’m not for more alcohol drinking and I’m not going to write a letter to encourage it. Our church did not invite the restaurant to open next to our building.
Our church didn’t write the law. Indiana did. If the law didn’t exist, the restaurant would serve alcohol. My conscience also registers all of what I wrote in the four paragraphs of the previous section. It would violate my conscience to write any such letter to the state for the service of alcohol.
I don’t think I’m better than other people because I don’t drink or serve alcohol. Neither do I believe that drinking alcohol in some unique way sends someone to Hell. Everyone sins. That doesn’t mean I should write a letter supporting the service of alcohol. I won’t do it.
Another Two Challenges
The Owner
The alcohol issue went off my radar again until a short while later a person showed up to our house, who was the owner of the Mexican restaurant. The owner asked if I would write the letter that would permit the restaurant to serve alcohol. I gave a brief scriptural presentation (see 1, 2, 3, 4, 5), including what I said above. Also, I encouraged the owner, saying that maybe the success of the restaurant came from not serving alcohol. Perhaps the restaurant could trust God in the matter.
The owner told me that customers asked for alcohol and put pressure to serve it. When these customers asked why not, the owner pointed to our church as to why the restaurant could not get the permit. That’s why I got that challenge on the very first door. The owner blamed it on our church. I told the owner, no, the state of Indiana made the law, not the church. I would not write the letter, because I couldn’t. The owner understood the reason. It was a very peaceful, agreeable conversation.
Another Customer
Zoom forward to last week. Again, I’m going door-to-door in evangelism. While talking to a man at the door, his wife interrupted him, saying she wanted to ask me some questions. She did. The last one she asked was why we stopped the Mexican restaurant from getting a permit. I explained to her what I wrote above. She appreciated the answer, understood it. I told her I did not see our position as harmful to our church or our evangelism.
Tongue-in-cheek the wife said she thought we might get more visitors to our service because of our position. She heard customers threaten in mass to “visit” our church service to pressure us to stop hindering the alcohol service of the restaurant. The restaurant encouraged this reaction by continuing to blame us for no alcohol on the menu. The wife wondered if some compromise could be made. The state requires a support or permission letter from me. My convictions and conscience won’t allow me to write one.
This alcohol situation turned into a light form of religious persecution, precipitated by a hypocritical secular culture. It now occurs in previously known as “the Bible belt.” If I wanted, I could push back against the false accusations of the restaurant. Honesty would require an explanation of a regulation passed by the state of Indiana, not our church. My wife and I go to the restaurant. It serves good food. We pay for our meals and tip the waiters. I still won’t write a letter giving permission to serve alcohol.
My Dad Is In Heaven
On December 3, 1939 at St. Elizabeth Hospital in Danville, IL, the same hospital as me, my father, Terrence Carlton Brandenburg, was born to Charles and Nila Brandenburg. He grew up on a little farm in Indiana in the unincorporated, border town of Foster, Indiana with his younger sister and brother. His family and everyone else called him Terry, which alliterated well with the mascot of Covington, IN schools, the Trojans, where he received all twelve years of elementary and secondary education. Covington, the county seat of Fountain County, was a small town of 2,600.
My dad was born before the United States entered World War 2 and as a child, he saw bombers and fighters flying overhead from a nearby air force base. He grew up in a different era and country than what we have today. He worked the graveyard shift at a factory for over a decade. We children tip toed past his bedroom and never played on the side of the house where he was sleeping. We sat late at night with him before he left for work, watching our black and white TV together as Neil Armstrong took his one small step and one giant leap for mankind.
Until he left his childhood home, his house was without gas, electricity, or indoor plumbing. North Fork Spring Creek ran through his farm, where daily chores might include milking cows, slopping hogs, and bailing hay. He often told the story of outrunning the bull, helped by his collie, Laddie, and hopping over a 6 foot barbed wire fence. Perhaps this helped increase his speed and jumping to set a Covington high record for the 100 and 220 yard dash and long jump. His senior high school football team won a mythical six man state championship, going undefeated with him at halfback and safety.
As my father grew up, his family attended a local chapel of a now long defunct Plymouth Brethren congregation, where he heard the gospel from a visiting “evangelist” and professed salvation in Jesus Christ. He progressed some as a Christian but was never discipled. After graduating from high school, at the age of eighteen, he married his high school sweetheart, Karen. Glenn Ray, the pastor of First Baptist Church in Covington, came to their newlywed apartment and lead her to Christ. They were both baptized into that church and began to grow.
Terry and Karen bore three children, first daughter Kim, then Kent (me), and the youngest son, Kris. They all began attending church and then faithfully to every service. My dad learned to preach the gospel and our family became known for standing for Christ. He took Old and New Testament survey classes at a Bible Institute at a Baptist church in Danville.
My dad had worked on his farm, briefly as a fireman on the railroad, and then for seventeen years for Olin Corporation, a factory between Covington and Danville across the Wabash River. He was never late to a day of work with one exception as his car broke down and he couldn’t thumb a ride. His love for Christ flourished and he wanted more of the Bible. When dad was thirty-five years old, our family sold our house and moved to Watertown, WI for him to attend Bible college. There he worked several jobs while paying tuition for all three children to finish at a Christian high school. He graduated from college, then completed a master’s degree in Bible.
Selling our worldly goods and leaving for Watertown made a big impression on my life. That sacrifice and my dad’s earnest and diligent labor impacted all three of his children in a major way. My brother and I became pastors and my sister married one. Even though he was never a good student growing up and school was difficult for him, my dad was regularly on the honor roll.
For a few years, my dad taught Greek and Bible at the Christian school also to help his children finish college. During my last year of graduate school, my parents moved to Tempe, Arizona, where dad taught upper elementary in a Christian school and coached the basketball team. After I was married and my wife and I traveled to California to start a church, my dad came in 1989 as principal of and teacher in our church school. He continued for over a decade doing that work and trained another man to take his place as his health hindered his continuation.
My dad stayed a faithful member of our church, attending every service, teaching Sunday School, going door to door evangelizing, and serving in almost every way imaginable in our church. He impacted many lives. Four years ago, it was obvious the my mom needed help with dad, so they moved in with my wife and me. They moved with us to Oregon when we started a church there in 2020-21. Then they came with us to Utah this year.
Almost four weeks ago, my dad broke his hip early in the morning. That day they performed surgery to insert screws to repair the hip. He went to a rehab center three weeks ago. He continued physical therapy with hopes of beginning to walk again. I dropped my mom there yesterday morning. They have been married for 63 years. He completed his rehab with the therapists early afternoon, but something seemed different. I arrived in the late afternoon and they had to put him on oxygen because of a sudden difficulty getting air. He breathed his last breath on this earth at around 5pm on July 27, 2022 with my mother, wife, and I at his side. Even though we grieve, we are happy that dad opened his eyes to see Jesus in heaven.
I am so thankful for my father. He did so much for me and many others in this life. I look forward to seeing him in the next.
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