Authentic

I go to a school - Wheaton College - where “authenticity” is a big byword. Basically, Wheaton students who aren’t particularly enthusiastic about being Wheaton students complain that other Wheaton students aren’t “authentic.” The implication being that they aren’t authentic Christians. And there was a time when I was one of those authenticity-criticizers. But I grew out of it, for the simple reason that I know too many amazing people of God among my friends, and to call them fake would be ridiculous. The problem remains, though, that the community as a whole at Wheaton often feels forced and, well, inauthentic. Something is missing.

In philosophy class last spring we talked a lot about theodicies. Ways of vindicating God’s goodness in light of the existence of evil. An idea that kept cropping up was that a condition does not exist unless its opposite does. It sounds confusing, but it’s really not. Light cannot exist without darkness. Courage cannot exist without cowardice. Good cannot exist without evil. The sun, after all, seems to shine brightest through clouds, and the stars gleam most intensely in the blackest night. That was when I figured out, for the first time in a long time, what’s missing at Wheaton. Not authenticity. Our students are some of the most sincere and passionate people I know. I believe we have authenticity, and in abundance. No, what we're missing is regular interaction with non-Christians. 

Not that non-Christians are in every sense of the word our opposites. In fact we share a whole lot in common. But they are in the sense that we know Christ and they do not. And it all goes back to the philosophy idea. We are nothing - or at least what we are is significantly diminished - when we are cut off from our opposite. The "problem" at Wheaton isn't inauthenticity. It's isolation from the unchurched world. This is why A Christian Ministry in the National Parks excited me so much. A chance to be surrounded by and know and love my “opposites.” To stand out? Maybe. Or maybe just to stand. Because being with non-Christians doesn’t just remind us of how much they need God. It reminds us, perhaps even more so, of how much we need Him. 

Now I’m here, and I’m realizing every day how true this idea actually is. I am living, eating, working, and playing with non-Christians. I’m also blessed by the support of a group of fellow believers. We are able to worship and fellowship together, and then go out into everyday life and share Christ’s love with those who don’t know or understand it. There are no questions about authenticity. None. We love being with each other, not because we’re cooler people than our non-Christian coworkers, but because we share a common faith, and as such know a deeper kind of friendship than would otherwise be possible. We love being with everyone else because it’s what we’re called to do. We don’t go on mission trips. We live in our mission field. It’s a unique sort of ministry, but it shouldn’t be. This is how the Christian life is supposed to look. Like a glacier that feeds waterfalls that go on to form innumerable rivers and streams, He pours into us so that we might pour into others. I have never seen this in action the way I have seen it here. And it truly is beautiful. 

Jesus told us to pick up our cross and follow him. And the path He took wasn't easy. It was full of joy and pain, contentment and suffering. Full of opposites.