When Authenticity Becomes an Aesthetic
There is one word that often comes up when people describe an ideal church family or ministry style. They want it to be “authentic.”
We want to live an authentic Christian life. We want authentic, personable preaching and teaching. We are tired of hypocrisy and polished performance. We just want people to be real. But what if, in our search for the authentic, we’ve settled for an aesthetic? In our search for the real and the genuine we have settled for a feeling.
The Vibe of Authenticity
What do we usually mean when we say something is “authentic”?
Often, we’re describing a particular vibe. It’s relational, casual, and spontaneous. It feels unrehearsed. If we were to make a caricature of the authentic church we might imagine the pastor is in jeans and a t-shirt, the worship leader shares an emotional story between songs, and the sermon feels more like a conversation over coffee than a formal proclamation. The music is emotionally resonant, and the prayers sound like they were crafted on the spot. It all just feels so real and unforced!
But here is the paradox: this “authentic” experience is often the product of meticulous planning. The “spontaneous” worship set was rehearsed for hours. The “casual” segue from the song to the sermon was scripted and timed to the second. Sometimes even the emotional, spontaneous prayers are rehearsed with a basic outline.
These services are a performance of authenticity. The goal is to manufacture a specific emotional environment that feels genuine. We have, perhaps unknowingly, equated authenticity not with what is real, but with what feels real in a way that is cool, modern, and engaging.
Unglamorous Authenticity
The problem is that true authenticity is often none of those things. Authenticity doesn’t always feel nice. It isn’t always engaging or enjoyable. In fact, it’s often the opposite.
True authenticity is the awkward, stumbling prayer of a new believer who doesn’t know the right words to say. It’s the sermon on Levitical law that feels a bit boring but is wrestled with honestly from the text because it is God’s Word. It’s the prayer meeting where someone confesses a sin that is genuinely uncomfortable and doesn’t have a neat resolution at the end of the meeting. It’s showing up to serve when you’re exhausted and don’t feel like it.
This kind of authenticity is rarely impressive. It’s not awesome or super-human. It’s the simple, sometimes messy, reality of finite people trying to follow an infinite God. We see this unglamorous faith all over Scripture. In the Psalms, David expresses thoughts that are often desperate and depressing. Jeremiah’s authentic ministry was filled with tears and rejection. Paul was authentic about his “thorn in the flesh,” a weakness he pleaded with God to remove.
Authenticity isn’t a vibe or feeling; it is faithfully following Christ in spite of our doubts and fears.
Chasing Our Feelings
The danger in chasing the feeling of authenticity is we begin to chase the feeling itself.
If we only define an experience as “authentic” when it is emotionally resonant, casual, and cool, we risk dismissing the countless other ways God makes Himself known. We might reject the profound truth in a centuries-old hymn because it feels “stuffy.” We might tune out a theological truth that challenges us because it doesn’t give us an immediate emotional high.
We say we want authentic people, but we are often still drawn to the super-human pastor who just happens to be perfectly vulnerable and winsome. We want authenticity, but we want it to be impressive. We want the real, as long as the real is also really cool.
Authentic Faithfulness
Instead of chasing “authentic experiences,” let’s commit to the simple, often unglamorous, practice of faithfulness.
Let’s learn to find God not just in the emotional peak of a song, but in the quiet truth of an oft-repeated prayer.
Let’s honor the faithfulness of the saint who has served for 40 years without fanfare, not just the charisma of the young leader with a compelling testimony.
Let’s rethink authenticity. It isn’t about curating a “real” version of ourselves for public consumption. It’s about showing up as we are and offering that reality to God to let Him change and use for His glory. It’s about choosing obedience when our feelings are calling for disobedience.
Some Practical Takeaways
Here are a few practical thoughts on seeking genuine faithfulness over a manufactured feeling.
1. Value basic Christian worship over smooth and impressive execution.
There is a pressure to create a perfect and emotionally powerful program. Instead of asking, “How can we make this moment powerful?” ask, “How can we encourage others to honestly face God?” This might mean a moment of silence that feels a little too long, or allowing a transition to happen after a time of prayer (as opposed to transitioning during prayer). Value basic, meaningful Christian worship over smooth and flawless execution.
2. Make room for real prayer.
We often equate authenticity with spontaneous prayer, but unscripted prayers can also become repetitive and cliché. Thoughtfully prepared prayer isn’t less authentic. Prayer should be intentional.
Have intentional times of prayer. Don’t just use it as a transition time.
Allow times of silence for people to pray on their own.
Pray the Scriptures. Use a Psalm to give biblical words to feelings that are hard to articulate.
3. Platform faithfulness not just impressiveness.
When someone shares their testimony, we naturally gravitate toward the dramatic narrative that ends in complete victory. While these are encouraging, they can inadvertently create a standard most people can’t meet. Intentionally seek out and share testimonies of quiet faithfulness. We can be encouraged from the person wrestling with chronic illness who still chooses to trust God, the member who is faithfully serving in obscurity, or the person in a long season of depression and doubt who keeps showing up. Authenticity is found in the process, not just the victorious outcome.
4. Focus on substance and not just style.
In our music, it’s easy to get caught up in creating the perfect emotional experience. While God certainly works through our emotions, we should first ask what we are teaching the congregation to sing. Does this song teach good theology? Does it give voice to a wide range of human experience (lament, confession, thanksgiving, praise)? By prioritizing theological substance, we guide people to worship the unchanging God, not the fleeting feeling a chord progression gives them.
Conclusion
A relationship with the living God is not limited to our preferred aesthetic. He can work through the polished production, and He is present in the painful silence. The goal is not to manufacture a feeling of His presence, but to grow in our faithfulness, especially in the plain and ordinary places.
