How should Christians think about alcohol?

Every year, more Americans choose Dry January, while many churches continue to treat alcohol as a morally neutral topic unworthy of serious discipleship. That lack of discipleship is part of my own story—and criticism—of today’s church.

Five years ago, I quit drinking, but not because Scripture condemned it or someone told me to. Alcohol overtook me before I understood how powerful it could be. Yet, in the 20 years I was drinking, I never received any spiritual guidance or Christian discipleship on the harms of alcohol. 

Neither my church nor the Christians closest to me taught me how to steward my own soul if I chose to make alcohol part of my life. Alcohol simply wasn’t addressed within any kind of meaningful spiritual framework. 

The conversation at church tended toward extremes: strict legalism or vague permissiveness, with little guidance in between. For many young Christians today, that remains the norm.

I knew drinking before 21 was wrong because it was illegal, but the boundary felt technical rather than moral. On that note, the guidance was far murkier—and Christian fellowship often included drinks, making it harder to reckon with the sin of overconsumption. What I lacked was pastoral guidance robust enough to address not just rules but also formation: how to steward a liberty in ways that honor Christ and recognize its impact on others. 

Even as a young, committed Christian, I gave in to peer pressure to drink, unaware that my first real intoxication would bind me for nearly two decades.

The increasingly popular Dry January trend reflects a broader cultural reevaluation of alcohol’s place in human flourishing. Interestingly, secular outlets and contexts have spoken more about this topic recently than the modern church has. 

We cheer when the culture grapples with sobriety but rarely lead the conversation in our own communities. While scripture doesn’t condemn alcohol outright, it strongly warns against the dangers of drunkenness. 

Proverbs warns that “wine is a mocker” and “whoever is led astray by it is not wise.”

In 1 Peter, we’re told to “be alert and of sober mind” because “the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” 

The moment we step away from “sober-mindedness,” we’re more vulnerable to the Enemy’s schemes and distractions. It’s no small thing to be conscious of this truth, yet it’s rarely discussed. Many pastors and church leaders treat alcohol as a matter of personal preference—neither affirmed nor condemned—and assume no one needs discipleship in this area.

Paul places Christian freedom firmly beneath the command to love one another, warning believers not to exercise liberty in ways that wound the conscience of a weaker brother or sister. This point looks pretty lost on the Christian community today when it comes to alcohol. 

“If your brother is grieved by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love,” Paul writes. Freedom in Christ, he insists, is not measured by what we are allowed to consume, but in how we serve one another and glorify God. The issue is rarely a matter of inerrant prohibition, but of discipleship and love.

We must also recognize that for some people, abstinence is not just preferable but necessary—and for far more believers than we realize. Struggles with alcohol are frequently hidden behind shame and fear. This is where sound pastoral care matters. When the church’s default posture toward alcohol is neutrality, believers are left to navigate its complexities alone. 

Those struggling with addiction, wounded by alcohol-related trauma, or committed to sobriety for personal or spiritual reasons often find no vocabulary, sanctuary, or encouragement from their spiritual communities. They’re left to wrestle with their choices in isolation. In a world increasingly aware of alcohol’s risks, the church’s silence sounds not like discretion, but neglect. 

My own journey, chronicled in my new book Freely Sober: Rethinking Alcohol Through the Lens of Faith, culminated in the realization that I was out of control and alone in my struggle, even as a strong Christian and faithful churchgoer. I knew drunkenness was sinful, yet years of cultural formation around alcohol led me to ignore this is and justify my own choices.

Churches should not rush to mandated prohibition, as such legalism creates its own harms. But neither should we continue to act as if a substance that can affect every part of us warrants no spiritual reflection. We must also recognize the devastating, generational effects that alcoholism has on too many families. 

January offers an opportunity to talk about why Christians should think carefully about alcohol—for themselves and others. Christians should be among the most thoughtful participants in the cultural reexamination of alcohol—not content merely to police behaviors but aiming to shape hearts.