Man's Search for Feeling
The trap of authenticity
When are you most yourself?
Seth Godin, writing about the creative process in his book, The Practice, “If you’re using any sort of self-control, then you’re not being authentic. Only a tantrum is authentic. Everything else we do with intention.” What’s true about the creative process is also true about our spiritual formation.
Considering that self-control is part of the fruit of the Spirit—the virtue that we develop over a lifetime of communion with Christ—the Christian life is directly at odds with our ideas of what it means to be authentic. How can we be authentic when we’re not only called to self-control, but we always exercise some level of self-control over ourselves in our day-to-day lives anyways?
The Authenticity Trap
Authenticity is most often expressed by attempting to align one’s actions with their internal emotions and motivations. We’ve replaced the equally misguided axiom of Descartes, “I think therefore I am,” with “I feel therefore I am.” We think that if I don’t feel something to be true, then it can’t be true—not for me, at least. Maybe you feel it, so it’s true for you. But that’s not how I feel. Beliefs are reduced to feelings, so holding others to a standard of belief is the same as holding others to the standard of your feelings, which of course, seems arbitrary and restrictive.
When authenticity becomes the highest good, it becomes necessary to conceal our inner confusion about who we are and aren’t—which authentic “me” is the real “me”?—that we then feel the need to perform our authenticity. Performative authenticity, or fauxthenticity, can take the form of relatively innocuous things such as oversharing personal details on social media in an attempt to be relatable or expressing our individuality through outlandish clothing choices (there’s nothing inherently wrong with either of these things, though it’s worth considering the motives that underly both and what they reveal about the heart) to much more pernicious things like ending a job or even a marriage in an attempt to “live your truth”, even if it’s at the expense of others.
What’s underneath the search for authenticity is the search for meaning. The belief is that “My life will have meaning when I’m living most authentically to myself.” If I can just align my what I do with how I feel, I won’t feel the internal conflict of wanting to do one thing and having to do another or vice versa, I will simply be, avoiding everything that produces discomfort and grief within my soul. So I have to shed those things that restrict me when I feel they no longer serve me. The search for meaning turns inward toward the self. The individual’s own heart becomes the well from which to draw purpose.
But what happens when the well is shallow from not having dug deep enough? Or the water is mixed with dirt and garbage that others have thrown in? Or the bucket is broken and leaks water as you draw it up? When what needs fixing is your own heart, are you the only one able to fix it?
The Dirty Well of Self-Actualization
This brings up the unpopular topic of our hearts being broken. Time and again I’ve seen people who leave Christianity say something to the effect of, “I was always told I couldn’t trust my heart, but I’m not broken. Self-trust is important.” Which, yes, it is important to be able to trust your own judgment. But does self-trust come from a brute turning away from our brokenness, or by staring it directly in the face, admitting our need, and allowing ourselves to be healed?
How can we, on the one hand, speak so much about dealing with our trauma, and on the other hand, not admit that there is something broken in us? We know something is wrong inside of us and so do our therapists. And while that individual work of looking inward to identify our wounds is necessary, we’re fooling ourselves if we think our broken hearts can be healed the same way a broken bone can, by visiting a doctor (or therapist), putting a cast (or coping mechanisms) on it, and taking a prescription (or reciting self-affirmations). Those things help, but the heart and soul aren’t individual bones in need of medicine, they’re relational connectors in need of love. We won’t trust ourselves more by being more authentic, we’ll trust ourselves more by giving and receiving love over time.
The Road to Authenticity
This means the authentic selves we’re looking for won’t be found by turning inward, but by turning outward. Not by sacrificing others to what we feel to be the most authentic thing, but by sacrificing ourselves to the duty of loving others. The most authentic human isn’t the one who indulges all of their desires, but the one who loves the most. The road to authenticity isn’t expression, indulgence, and self-care, but submission, duty, and self-denial.
We can only love as much as we have been captured by love. To the extent that love has penetrated our souls, we will be able to give love to others. The meaning we seek isn’t in ourselves but in the love of God and others. It’s in others because we cannot love when we hold ourself in the highest regard. It’s in God because God’s love is the deepest love, and love that he pours out freely to us through his Spirit. Jesus said, “As the Father has loved me, I have also loved you. Remain in my love” (John 15:9). The only place you’ll be truly authentic is in the love of the Father, through the Son, by Spirit.
Everything else is a well that will always—eventually—run dry.