Storied Theology

On Facebook and Twitter a couple days ago I expressed some concern about the rampant use of “authenticity” as our litmus test for what we, as Christians, should be doing.

In 140 characters, one sometimes is not able to give a fully nuanced view of things, hence the glory of the blog where I can give a less-than-fully- nuanced view of things in as many characters as I please.

There is something very good about the pursuit of authenticity.

Too often, in cultures such as churches, the goals and standards of holiness and perfection (and less noble standards such as the social mores du jour) create a pressure to be disingenuous about our lives. We get pulled into the trap of thinking that our job is to be a perfect demonstration of the perfection to which we’re all striving, so we hide our flaws, failures, and shortcomings and create images of competence and perfection.

The ante is often upped for religious professionals. We might fear that acknowledgment of our failures or struggles will cost us our jobs–and we may be right. In some circles, this applies not only to personal piety but also theological convictions. People mask what they truly believe because they live in fear that the truth will set them freer than they’d prefer from their source of income.

So when we talk about authenticity, one of the most important things to say is that it represents a healthy, godly, and pastorally powerful alternative to the inauthentic facades we too often take up.

From my limited experience, sermons (for example), and teaching are much much powerful when the preacher or teacher is honest about being a person in process–both personally in the muck and crap of the world and theologically.

While we don’t want to wallow or glory in our failures or air our dirty laundry, people resonate with leaders who are fellow travelers, people resonate with fellow travelers who are honest about the valleys as well as the peaks.

Such a call to “authenticity” is in step with the narrative we’re called to live into in Jesus Christ. When Paul or Jesus speak of embodying Jesus’ ministry in our own lives, as often as not they are speaking of a life that embodies the one thing that makes us distinctively Christian: the cross of Christ. Authentic discipleship will walk the way of the cross. This means that “authenticity” that admits struggles, weakness, even failure (from an earthly point of view) is not only relatively better, but the type of discipleship that sets us apart as Christians.

Authenticity is not only good, or a happy fad, but essential to Christian discipleship.

Up next: The Limits of Authenticity as the rule for Christian ethics.

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