In recent years, evangelical Christianity has made its
imperfection a point of emphasis. Books were published with titles like Messy
Spirituality: God's Annoying Love for Imperfect People, Death by Church, and
Jesus Wants to Save Christians, and churches popped up with names like Scum of
the Earth and Salvage Yard. Evangelicals made films like Lord, Save Us from
Your Followers, wrote blog posts with titles like “Dirty, Rotten, Messy
Christians,” and maintained websites like anchoredmess.com, modernreject.com,
churchmarketingsucks.com, recoveringevangelical.com, and wrecked.org—a site
that includes categories like “A Hot Mess,” “Muddling Through,” “My Broken
Heart,” and “My Wreckage.”
Meanwhile, self-deprecating humor sites like Stuff
Christians Like and Stuff Christian Culture Likes became hugely popular
repositories of Christianity's many warts, and writers like Anne Lamott and
Donald Miller became best-selling, “non-religious” expositors of messy
spirituality.
Evangelicalism—both on the individual and institutional
level—is trying hard to purge itself of a polished veneer that smacked of
hypocrisy. But by focusing on brokenness as proof of our “realness” and
“authenticity,” have evangelicals turned “being screwed up” into a badge of
honor, its own sort of works righteousness? Has authenticity become a higher
calling than, say, holiness?
How Did We Get Here?
Erik Thoennes, professor of biblical and theological studies
at Biola University, sees the authenticity trend in the undergrads he teaches.
At the beginning of each class he asks his students to write down two things
they love and two things they hate. Consistently, one of the things they say
they hate is “fake people.” But the Christian life involves a whole lot of
“fakin' it” on the path to being integrated, Thoennes says.
“There's this idea that to live out of conformity with how I
feel is hypocrisy; but that's a wrong definition of hypocrisy,” Thoennes said.
“To live out of conformity to what I believe is hypocrisy. To live in
conformity with what I believe, in spite of what I feel, isn't hypocrisy; it's
integrity.”
Thoennes hopes his students understand that sanctification
involves living in a way that often conflicts with what feels authentic. Still,
he gets why younger evangelicals have such a radar for phoniness. They grew up
in an evangelical culture that produced more than a few noteworthy cases of
fallen leaders and high-profile hypocrisy. Their cynicism reflects a church
culture that often hid its imperfections beneath a facade of legalism and self-righteousness.
All of this contributed, in the early and mid-2000s, to an
authenticity boom in evangelicalism. Recognition of the biblical calls to
confession (James 5:17) and “walking in the light” (1 John 1:5-10) had not gone
away in Protestantism; they just became more and more couched in language of
being real, raw, transparent, and authentic in community.
Typical of the many articles written about the topic is Josh
Riebeck's 2007 piece for Relevant, “Fighting for Authenticity,” which announced
that “authentic community, authentic faith, and authentic Jesus are the cry of
the new generation.”
“We don't want to be fooled anymore. We don't want to be
gullible anymore,” Riebeck wrote. “We want flawed. We want imperfect. We want
real.”
But why must “real” be synonymous with flawed and imperfect?
When someone opens up about their junk, we think, “you're being real,” and we
can relate to them. But what about the pastor who has served faithfully for
decades without any scandal, loved his wife and family, and embodied the fruit
of the spirit? Is this less real?
When 'Authentic' Is
Actually Inauthentic
Often, what passes for authenticity in evangelical
Christianity is actually a safe, faux-openness that establishes an environment
where vulnerability is embraced, only up to a point.
Becky Trejo, a 20-something photographer from Los Angeles
who attends Mars Hill Church's Orange County location alongside her husband,
Neph, has observed this trend in some small groups she's attended.
“There's this 'sweet spot' of authenticity,” Trejo said.
“Like if you reveal that you struggle with gossip, people are like 'whoopdee!'
But then there are some sins you might share where it's like 'whoa, that's too
much.' There has to be this middle ground, like 'I'm struggling with wanting to
sleep with my boyfriend.' That's the sweet spot where people see you as really
vulnerable and authentic, and it's required admission.”
In this dynamic we often reward those who are most vocal
about their authentic struggles in the “sweet spot,” without giving equal
weight to the “too small” sins or creating a space that is safe enough for the
most embarrassing sins or darkest struggles.
This dynamic reflects another problem: our skewed
understanding of sin. It's almost as if our sins have become a currency of
solidarity—something we pat each other on the back about as fellow authentic,
broken people. But sin should always be grieved rather than celebrated,
Thoennes argues.
“Brokenness is an interesting word because if it's sin, we
should call it that,” Thoennes said. “I only feel sorry for broken people.
God's mad at sinful people. Woundedness and brokenness are aspects of our
sinful condition, but they tend not to emphasize the 'I'm giving God the
finger' part of it.”
We've become too comfortable with our sin, to the point that
it's how we identify ourselves and relate to others. But shouldn't we find
connection over Christ, rather than over our depravity?
Authenticity Means
Growth
Our notion of authenticity should not primarily be about
affirming each other in our struggles—patting each other on the back as we
share about porn struggles while enjoying a second round of beers at the local
pub Bible study. Rather, authenticity comes when we collectively push each
other, by grace, in the direction of Christ-likeness.
Reflecting on Christianity's “current obsession with
brokenness” for her.meneutics, Megan Hill wrote, “If we are constantly looking
for someone else who is broken in all the same places, we overlook the comfort
we can have in the perfect God-man.”
Hill wisely notes, “Grace covers. And it covers again and
again. Thanks be to God.” But if we stop there, “We are only telling half of
the story. . . . Receiving grace for my failures also includes Christ's help to
turn from sin and embrace new obedience.”
Could it be that the
most authentic thing any of us can do is faithfully pursue holiness and
obediently follow after Christ?
In Scripture, Paul teaches again and again that Christians
are “dead to sin” and risen to new life, no longer slave to sins but to
righteousness (Rom. 6). That doesn't mean the battle with sin is gone. But as
Paul describes the struggle in Romans 7, he says “it is no longer I myself who
do it, but it is sin living in me” (Rom. 7:17), noticeably separating his
identity from this unwanted alien thing still residing within. The struggle is
neither the point nor the marker of one's identity. In Christ we are new
creations (2 Cor. 5:17), called to flourish through life in the Spirit (Rom.
8).
“I think goodness is more real in that we are actually
living more as humans were intended to,” Thoennes said. “Jesus is the realest
human we'll ever see. He's authentic. He understands our brokenness. But he's
as real as can be.”
No Authenticity
Points
Sin is necessarily part of our story as redeemed people. We
shouldn't ignore or make light of it. But we also shouldn't wallow in it or
take it lightly, for the sake of earning authenticity points.
As someone who became a Christian in his 20s, after having
experienced the rocky ups and downs of a life without Christ, Luis Salazar of
Whittier, California, finds it sad that so many young evangelicals seem to
think dramatic struggles with sin are more real.
“I would never want to walk through it again,” Salazar said.
“I wish I hadn't gone through all that. A lifestyle of flashy sin isn't
necessary to experience grace. It's not necessary to have a grand testimony of
brokenness in order to be an authentic Christian.”
To overcome our “authenticity” confusion, evangelicals must
see themselves differently. Rather than focusing on our brokenness, we should
look to Christ and those who model Christ-likeness. We should move in that
direction, by grace and through the power of the Holy Spirit.
We should also, perhaps, stop speaking of ourselves in such
“we are scum” terms. In Christ, we can be more than scum. And that's a message
the world sorely needs.
“While we think self-deprecation causes us to be more
relatable and empathetic to non-Christians, it's ultimately communicating a
sense of disappointment, disillusionment, and discontentment,” Stephen Mattson
wrote for Red Letter Christians. “It thrives on negativity and kills our sense
of hope.”
“The reality is that there are many things wrong with
Christianity,” Mattson said, “but instead of focusing on the bad, let's attempt
to reclaim the hope that Jesus represents—redeeming our world by personifying
the sacrifice, service, grace, hope, joy, and love of Christ.”
Source: http://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/has-authenticity-trumped-holiness-2