When Being Authentic Isn’t Enough

Our greatest moral imperative today comes from Laertes to his son Hamlet: “Above all else, to thine own self be true.”

In other words, be authentic. But what does that mean? There’s no counterargument. Nobody out there is making a case for you to be less authentic. And every person you encounter believes that, whatever else you might think of him, he is at least authentic. Let’s assume the simplest possible definition—being authentic means living without pretense. An authentic person stands upright and says, “This is who I am. What you see is what you get. Accept or reject me, but don’t expect me to change for you.”

If this is what we mean, we are in for trouble. The Bible wants us to be our best authentic self.

Trouble #1: Sometimes Your Authentic Self Needs to Change

“Be true to yourself” sounds wonderful, but you won’t hear that line standing up as a defense for sexual assault, racism, or child abuse. We don’t pardon criminals on the grounds that they were being authentic and we should accept them as they are. To give authenticity carte blanche to affirm every thought, word, and action is to do away with the idea of good, right, and honorable.

No one lives this way. If we favor authenticity above other virtues, then we slide toward a moral vacuum. The maxim of “be true to yourself” functionally plays out as the maxim “might makes right.” No one accuses bullies, dictators, or warlords of being inauthentic.

We’ve all encountered people who are unquestionably authentic, but we often wish they would be a little more fake. An authentic monster is perhaps better than a monster in disguise, but not much. The Bible tells us our authentic selves need a lot of change (Gen. 8:21; Eph. 4:22-24). We spend our whole lives working this out with the help of God’s Spirit. (Rom. 6-8). If we affirm authenticity without stressing a need for change, we hinder people from becoming their best selves.

Trouble #2: Sometimes Your Authentic Self Needs to Not Change

Authenticity often brings with it an idea of personally dictated, open-ended exploration and growth. Living authentically is to flow forward as a long, meandering stream. You move and respond to your environment—at some points your stream is broad and shallow, at other points narrow and deep, sometimes rapid and straight, other times slow and still. The key in this picture is that you alone choose the direction and force of your stream. You must never be bottled up, never hemmed in.

The trouble with this construction is that “being yourself” has no meaning whatsoever. If your life is always a changing stream, then your authentic self is as fluid and useful as the water you scoop in your hands. You forgo the opportunity to develop depth—to be a pond, a reservoir, a lake on which people fish and boat.

We need fixed points. We need unalterable boundaries. What is the outline or foundation of your self that will not and cannot change (Eph. 6:13; Ps.16:8)? Where will you never be shaken, no matter what other people think (Rev. 3:11)? And how do you decide which parts of you are fixed, and which parts are malleable? People without an independently established sense of self (i.e. the Bible) will find that their fixed and fluid points bear remarkable resemblance to everyone else. Their “true selves” will not be sparkling gems of individuality, but mass-produced goods, created by culture, time, and place. They will have done nothing to harness and expose the unique individual self God has given them.

Trouble #3: Sometimes Your Authentic Self Needs to be Toned Down

There’s a poem that should be memorized in every driver’s education class:

Here lies the body of William Jay

Who died defending his right of way.

He was right, all right, as he sped along,

But now he’s as dead as if he were wrong.

We can figuratively die defending our “right of way.” We defend a part of our authentic self we should have not put forward in the first place. We all have parts of our character that are excellent and valuable in certain circles. In other circles they are neutral or irrelevant. In still other circles, those same parts are obnoxious, distasteful, and offensive.

I’m speaking here of the things that are morally gray, perhaps even true and useful. Things like politics, vocational giftings, artistic taste, and parenting style. There are parts of our authentic selves we should not feel externally compelled to change, but we also don’t need to wear on our sleeves at all times. Paul talks about striving to be all things to all people (I Cor. 9:19-23). No one mistook Paul for a spineless yes-man. He’s referring to the wisdom of bringing out or holding back parts of his authentic self in response to shifting circumstances, in order to serve God and other people. That takes insight and restraint, but it produces the winsome authenticity we’re all craving.

Cultivating Your Best Self

Psalm 1 gives us a beautiful picture of how we can cultivate biblical authenticity. Imagine your new, Jesus-planted self as a tree. This is the self you want to cultivate. It’s rooted in one place. It has a clear, unchanging nature. It is one tree, not several different trees from day to day. At the same time, the tree grows, branches out, and puts forth new leaves and fruit. As the tree matures, it not only becomes grander itself, but it also offers shade, shelter, and nourishment to others.

From time to time, there might be parts of the tree that die, need to be cut off, or pruned. You do this not because you don’t like the tree. You trim and cut the tree precisely because you love this tree, and want it to flourish. You want it to be healthy—to grow into the fullness of what it can be.

The way you ensure the growth of this best authentic self is by paying careful attention to where you get your water. The tree of Psalm 1 is planted by streams of living water—Jesus and his Word. As you keep drinking from that stream, you will keep growing. Your best authentic self will have the clear markings of a Jesus-tree, but at the same time no other tree will be the same as you.