Are you living authentically?
You may be, but the second you begin to answer the question, it turns out that you are slightly less authentic. Like many positive and meaningful virtues, authenticity cannot be achieved by aiming at authenticity. You cannot live an authentic life by determining that from now on you will live an authentic life. In the same way, studies on happiness have shown that we cannot achieve happiness by aiming at happiness.
My thoughts on these matters were enlivened recently in listening to a memoir by the writer Hua Hsu, who grew up in the United States, a child of immigrants from Taiwan. Part of the beauty of Hsu’s memoir is that most of it tells of a life that might not be considered extraordinary. He focuses on his years as a university student in California and his strong opinions about popular music.
He remembers that his father listened to Bob Dylan and other popular voices of the time. Among these was no presence at all, in the house, of music by the Beach Boys. Hsu thus picked up the idea that the Beach Boys were not worth listening to. Years later, though, he came across a box set of the recording sessions of the album Pet Sounds. Hsu learned that the surfer, California, laid-back lifestyle projected by the Beach Boys in image and sound was not true to who they were at all. Only one of them was a surfer. They were, in Hsu’s description, inside boys, not outside boys, and the breezy sound that came to mark their music was achieved by an almost paralyzing perfectionism on the part of Brian Wilson. In other words, “there was nothing authentic about the Beach Boys.” Hsu pays special attention to the song “God Only Knows.” Apparently, the less than three minute song had seven final versions after very many rewrites.
My reading of Hsu’s book coincided with some reflection upon some stories about Jesus in Matthew chapter 9. There are two stories that exist in a trilogy of scenes where Jesus is confronted by various religious people. First, he is questioned by Bible teachers about his ability to forgive. After that, he is questioned by religious leaders (Pharisees) about his willingness to keep company with the wrong people, and finally, he is asked by his own disciples about why his diet is not as strict (religiously speaking) as that of other spiritual leaders.
In each case, Jesus seems to reply with some kind of response that reminds those present, and those of us listening in, that you can’t get to the things that matter by aiming for the things that matter. That is, you can’t get to understanding the Bible, or any spiritual truth, by way of cold consideration and frenetic study, you need forgiveness. You can’t get to holiness by way of separation, you need solidarity with people, particularly with people who are rejected by society. Finally, you can’t get to spiritual maturity by way of spiritual discipline alone, you need celebration and a sense of ease.
As Hsu points out in his memoir, it was Canadian philosopher, Charles Taylor, who largely brought the concept of authenticity to cultural awareness. He did this in the mid 1990’s by asking the question, “What does it mean to truly be yourself?” Taylor notes that, for much of history, the idea of an individual self did not really exist. You were born into a well defined position, locked into a clear hierarchy. As old-world feudal bonds broke down and economic and social mobility increased, the search for the self became possible. Taylor himself identifies that authenticity can only be understood in its absence. That is, you can spot and identify inauthenticity, but the struggle to “be real” always feels slightly off. As Hsu puts it, “We recognize inauthenticity, phoniness, when someone is clearly being a poser, yet the struggle to feel authentic is very real, even if we know better.”
Did Jesus live an authentic life?
Did he aim for it, declaring that from now on he would be authentic?
Did he determine to be spiritual or holy?
A commentator that I read noted that, in the Matthew 9 stories, there is a “naturalness” about Jesus. The religious people who question him seem determined to develop some kind of structure, a programme or a plan to acquire religious knowledge or holiness or spirituality. Meanwhile, Jesus seems so much less serious than them; more authentic, more spiritual, more holy, more knowledgeable, but far less serious.
This should be taken as good news. Perhaps the things that really and truly matter are found not in angst and haste, but in presence and peace.
Very interesting, Todd. Much food for thought here.
Perhaps, rather than “trying” to be authentic, our quest should be to “find” our identity.
That search may not garner fruit because most of us struggle with the question Who am I?
Jesus never had to ask that. He always knew.