"Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character."

	This is a Step that requires real maturity.  That's the opinion of a well-loved
member of the clergy who happens to be one of A.A.'s greatest friends.  Our friend goes
on to explain that any person capable of enough willingness and honesty to try repeatedly
Step Six on all their faults -- without any reservations whatever -- has indeed come a long
way spiritually, and is therefore an adult who is sincerely trying to grow in the image and
likeness of their Creator.
	Of course, the often disputed question of whether God can -- and will, under
certain conditions  -- remove defects of character will be answered with a prompt
affirmative by almost any A.A. member.  To us, this proposition will be no theory at all;  it
will be just about the largest fact in our life.  Any one of us will usually offer as proof a
statement like this:
	"Sure, I was beaten, absolutely licked.  My own willpower just wouldn't work on
alcohol.  Change of scene, the best efforts of family, friends, doctors, and clergy got no
place with my alcoholism.  I simply couldn't stop drinking, and no human being could
seem to do the job for me.  But when I became willing to clean house and then asked a
Higher Power, God as I understood God, to give me release, my obsession to drink
vanished.  It was lifted right out of me."
	In A.A. meetings all over the world, statements just like this are heard daily.  It is
plain for everybody to see that each sober A.A. member has been granted a release from
this very obstinate and potentially fatal obsession.  So in a very complete and literal way,
all A.A.'s have "become entirely ready" to have God remove the mania for alcohol from
their lives.  And God has proceeded to do exactly that.
	Having been granted a perfect release from alcoholism, why then shouldn't we be
able to achieve by the same means a perfect release from every other difficulty or defect? 
This is a riddle of our existence, the full answer to which may be only in the mind of God. 
Nevertheless, at least a part of the answer to it is apparent to us.
	When women and men pour so much alcohol into themselves that they destroy
their lives, they commit a most unnatural act.  Defying their instinctive desire for
self-preservation, they seem bent upon self-destruction.  They work against their own
deepest instinct.  As they are humbled by the terrific beating administered by alcohol, the
grace of God can enter them and expel their obsession.  Here their powerful instinct to live
can cooperate fully with their Creator's desire to give them new life.  For nature and God
alike abhor suicide.
	But most of our other difficulties don't fall under such a category at all.  Every
normal person wants, for example, to eat, to have sex relations, to be somebody in the
society of our fellows.  And we wish to be reasonably safe and secure as we try to attain
these things.  Indeed, God made us that way.  God did not design people to destroy
themselves by alcohol, but we were given instincts to help us to stay alive.
	It is nowhere evident, at least in this life, that our Creator expects us fully to
eliminate our instinctual drives.  So far as we know, it is nowhere on the record that God
has completely removed from any human being all natural drives.
	Since most of us are born with an abundance of natural desires, it isn't strange that
we often let these far exceed their intended purpose.  When they drive us blindly, or we
willfully demand that they supply us with more satisfactions or pleasures than are possible
or due us, that is the point at which we depart from the degree of perfection that God
wishes for us here on earth.  That is the measure of our character defects, or, if you wish,
of our sins.
	If we ask, God will certainly forgive our derelictions.  But in no case does God
render us pure as the driven snow and keep us that way without our cooperation.  That is
something we are supposed to be willing to work toward ourselves.  God asks only that
we try as best we know how to make progress in the building of character.
	So Step Six -- "Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of
character" -- is A.A.'s way of stating the best possible attitude one can take in order to
make a beginning on this lifetime job.  This does not mean that we expect all our character
defects to be lifted out of us as the drive to drink was.  A few of them may be, but with
most of them we shall have to be content with patient improvement.  The key words
"entirely ready" underline the fact that we want to aim at the very best we know or can
learn.
	How many of us have this degree of readiness?  In an absolute sense practically
nobody has it.  The best we can do, with all the honesty that we can summon, is to try to
have it.  Even then the best of us will discover to our dismay that there is always a sticking
point, a point at which we say, "No, I can't give this up yet."  And we shall often tread on
even more dangerous ground when we cry, "This I will never give up!"  Such is the power
of our instincts to overreach themselves.  No matter how far we have progressed, desires
will always be found which oppose the grace of God.
	Some who feel they have done well may dispute this, so let's try to think it through
a little further.  Practically everybody wishes to be rid of their most glaring and destructive
handicaps.  No one wants to be so proud as to be scorned as a braggart, nor so greedy as
to be labeled a thief.  No one wants to be angry enough to murder, lustful enough to rape,
gluttonous enough to ruin our health.  No one wants to be agonized by the chronic pain of
envy or to be paralyzed by sloth.  Of course, most human beings don't suffer these defects
at these rock-bottom levels.
	We who have escaped these extremes are apt to congratulate ourselves.  Yet can
we?  After all, hasn't it been self-interest, pure and simple, that has enabled most of us to
escape?  Not much spiritual effort is involved in avoiding excesses which will bring us
punishment anyway.  But when we face up to the less violent aspects of these very same
defects, then where do we stand?
	What we must recognize now is that we exult in some of our defects.  We really
love them.  Who, for example, doesn't like to feel just a little superior to the next person,
or even quite a lot superior?  Isn't it true that we like to let greed masquerade as ambition? 
To think of liking lust seems impossible.  But how many women and men speak love with
their lips, and believe what they say, so that they can hide lust in a dark corner of their
minds?  And even while staying within conventional bounds, many people have to admit
that their imaginary sex excursions are apt to be all dressed up as dreams of romance.
	Self-righteous anger also can be very enjoyable.  In a perverse way we can actually
take satisfaction from the fact that many people annoy us, for it brings a comfortable
feeling of superiority.  Gossip barbed with our anger, a polite form of murder by character
assassination, has its satisfactions for us, too.  Here we are not trying to help those we
criticize;  we are trying to proclaim our own righteousness.
	When gluttony is less than ruinous, we have a milder word for that, too;  we call it
"taking our comfort." We live in a world riddled with envy.  To a greater or less degree,
everybody is infected with it.  From this defect we must surely get a warped yet definite
satisfaction.  Else why would we consume such great amounts of time wishing for what
we have not, rather than working for it, or angrily looking for attributes we shall never
have, instead of adjusting to the fact, and accepting it?  And how often we work hard with
no better motive than to be secure and slothful later on -- only we call that "retiring." 
Consider, too, our talents for procrastination, which is really sloth in five syllables.  Nearly
anyone could submit a good list of such defects as these, and few of us would seriously
think of giving them up, at least until they cause us excessive misery.
	Some people, of course, may conclude that they are indeed ready to have all such
defects taken from them.  But even these people, if they construct a list of still milder
defects, will be obliged to admit that they prefer to hang on to some of them.  Therefore, it
seems plain that few of us can quickly or easily become ready to aim at spiritual and moral
perfection;  we want to settle for only as much perfection as will get us by in life,
according, of course, to our various and sundry ideas of what will get us by.  So the
difference between the immature and those who have grown spiritually is the difference
between striving for a self-determined objective and for the perfect objective which is of
God.
	Many will at once ask, "How can we accept the entire implication of Step Six? 
Why -- that is perfection!"  This sounds like a hard question, but practically speaking, it
isn't.  Only Step One, where we made the 100 percent admission we were powerless over
alcohol, can be practiced with absolute perfection.  The remaining eleven Steps state
perfect  ideals.  They are goals toward which we look, and the measuring sticks by which
we estimate our progress.  Seen in this light, Step Six is still difficult, but not at all
impossible.  The only urgent thing is that we make a beginning, and keep trying.
	If we would gain any real advantage  in the use of this Step on problems other than
alcohol, we shall need to make a brand new venture into open-mindedness.  We shall need
to raise our eyes toward perfection, and be ready to walk in that direction.  It will seldom
matter how haltingly we walk.  The only question will be "Are we ready?"
	Looking again at those defects we are still unwilling to give up, we ought to erase
the hard-and-fast lines that we have drawn.  Perhaps we shall be obliged in some cases still
to say, "This I cannot give up yet  . . . ," but we should not say to ourselves, "This I will
never give up!"
	Let's dispose of what appears to be a hazardous open end we have left.  It is
suggested that we ought to become entirely willing to aim toward perfection.  We note
that some delay, however, might be pardoned.  That word, in the mind of a rationalizing
alcoholic, could certainly be given a long-term meaning. One could say, "How very easy! 
Sure, I'll head toward perfection, but I'm certainly not going to hurry any.  Maybe I can
postpone dealing with some of my problems indefinitely."  Of course, this won't do.  Such
a bluffing of oneself will have to go the way of many another pleasant rationalization.  At
the very least, we shall have to come to grips with some of our worst character defects
and take action toward their removal as quickly as we can.
	The moment we say, "No, never!" our minds close against the grace of God. 
Delay is dangerous, and rebellion may be fatal.  This is the exact point at which we
abandon limited objectives, and move toward God's will for us.

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