How Authentic Should I be? - Christianity Today

How important is it that people can “relate” to the pastor? Do they want the preacher to model strength or weakness? Should a pastor be a voice of authority or a fellow struggler?

The answer is seldom either/or. But clearly, there are two opinions on the matter, and at the heart of the issue is the role of a pastor. To bring clarity to the discussion, Leadership asked two respected leaders to make their case on how authentic a pastor should be.

Be Honest About Myself

by James Emery White

On Saturday, September 13, 1997, Miss Illinois, Katherine Shindle, was crowned Miss America 1998. Due to sagging ratings, the 1997 pageant was designed differently than it was in years past. The most obvious change, of course, was the addition of two-piece swimsuits. Ratings soared.

But other changes may have contributed to the higher ratings.

Pageant officials wanted the new Miss America to be what she presented herself to be; for example, no contestant was allowed a custom-made swimsuit. The interview of the five finalists included unscripted questions. Professional hairstylists were banned from the backstage area. Judges were permitted to penalize any contestant believed to be putting on false airs or misrepresenting herself in behavior or dress.

Today, pageant officials said, people want authenticity.

The same is true of those who fill our churches.

Authenticity has its reasons

Authenticity is simply being a person whose outward presentation matches reality. For pastors, that means being able to say with the apostle Paul, “We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well” (1 Thess. 2:8).

For too long many of us in ministry have labored under the ideal of what a pastor should look and act like.

I’m not saying that, in the name of authenticity, pastors should share every defeat, every failing, and every struggle without discretion. Nor should pastors parade their woundedness before the church in a maudlin sort of way. Pastors should live so our congregation knows we too are sinners.

Why is authenticity important for a pastor.

1. Authenticity is biblical. Moses’ exhaustion before Jethro, David’s imprecatory psalms, Job’s doubts and fears, and Jeremiah’s wailings—the Old Testament reveals a pattern that leaders are to be open about their weaknesses, struggles, and failings.

In the New Testament, the apostle Paul frankly admits that when he came to the Corinthians, it was not in “eloquence or superior wisdom” but “in weakness and fear, and with much trembling” (1 Cor. 2:1-3). Jesus modeled transparency in such things as his tears at the death of Lazarus and his fear the night before his crucifixion.

2. Authenticity prevents hypocrisy. One great temptation of ministry is taking the assessment of others as the truth about our life. People often award us with a high level of spirituality when they have no idea whether we’ve had a quiet time in two weeks, treat our spouses with dignity, or avoid pornography when we go online.

A commitment to authenticity helps us refuse the false image some project onto us. Authenticity lowers the mask of hypocrisy.

3. Authenticity builds credibility. Willow Creek Community Church pastor Bill Hybels has said that people in your audience know you have junk in your life—they’re just waiting to see if you’ll own up to it.

Many of us were taught to withhold our true selves from those we serve. The idea was that if the realities of our life became known, we would lose our moral influence and ability to provide spiritual leadership.

In reality, the opposite is true.

A mother who has lost her child to a drunk driver is much more effective on the subject of “Don’t drink and drive” than the average police officer. A person who has struggled in a difficult marriage and remained committed is much more compelling than someone who proclaims, “We’ve never had an argument..

Speakers gain credibility if they share where they have struggled and how these struggles have been addressed. In fact, the struggle is the credibility.

4. Authenticity fosters openness. When we are honest about our struggles, those to whom we minister grow more comfortable with being honest about their lives. Ministry begins when pastors create a context in which people can say, “My name is John, and I’m an alcoholic.” “My name is Steve, and my marriage is falling apart.” “My name is Bill, and I have aids.” “My name is Carol, and I just lost my job.” “My name is Alice, and I’m lonely.”

We take off our masks so others will take off theirs. When this happens, we open the door to the giving and receiving of grace and truth.

Getting found

Robert Fulghum writes of a man who discovered he had terminal cancer. He was a doctor and knew about dying. He didn’t want to make his family and friends suffer with him, so he kept his secret—and died. Some people said how brave he was to bear his suffering in silence, but his family and friends were angry that he didn’t feel he needed them, that he didn’t trust their strength.

Authenticity keeps pastors from hiding too well.

Authenticity cannot be contrived or it ceases to be authenticity. But we can strive to be more honest about who we are, and in so doing give permission to others to do the same.

James Emery White is pastor of Mecklenberg Community Church in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Be True to My Calling

by William H. Willimon

I take as my text a statement by the great theologian Oscar Wilde: “About the worst advice you can give anybody is, ‘Be yourself.’

For clergy, that aphorism may be especially true.

Recently I heard a church-growth consultant urge pastors to “be authentic.” He noted that boomers, busters, and GenX-ers all like preachers who “share themselves,” who are willing to peel off the clerical masks, break out of the stained-glass enclosure, and share their humanity with the congregation.

“If you’ve had a tough week, tell them,” he advised. “If you have trouble believing a certain piece of Scripture, tell them..

Authenticity is a great virtue. The phony, stained-glass voice and the insincere ministerial demeanor are a true turnoff for many. The congregation rightly expects us not to talk the talk unless we walk the walk.

And perhaps there was a time when we preachers needed to demonstrate to the congregation that, despite the M.Div., the backward collar, or the red rose on the lapel, we were, after all, just poor struggling sinners like them.

I wonder, though, if that day has passed.

Lately, there have been so many opportunities for the laity to utter the truism, “Well, we must remember that pastors are only human,” that I see little need for us intentionally to share ourselves, expose ourselves, strip down, open up, or let it all hang out, in the name of “authenticity..

Show me a lay person who needs us to expend time in Sunday worship convincing folks that we preachers are, after all, only human, and I’ll show you a lay person who has been neglecting the gossip section of the local newspaper.

The truth thing

Have you ever decided to act authentically.

That’s as dumb as deciding to act humbly. When it comes to being authentic or humble, you either are or you aren’t. To intentionally pepper my sermon with doses of predetermined authenticity is to be, well, inauthentic.

An elderly woman complained to me that she could tell when her pastor had not had time to prepare a sermon, because he would begin crying at the weakest point in the sermon.

“Crying?” I asked.

“Yeah, crying,” she said. “He says something like, ‘When I think of what Jesus did for us I just, well, I … I … forgive me, I’m just overcome with gratitude.’ He usually is overcome with gratitude about once every month, usually related to his fishing schedule..

We need more of that.

I’m all for pastoral honesty, to let the people know we stand among them as a redeemed sinner who struggles. But the sermon may not be the best place for such sharing. There, we have our hands full proclaiming the gospel, pointing to Christ, telling the story; there may not be much time to waste pointing to ourselves, sharing our story. John Wesley loved to counter his preachers’ tales of how well they had done in the pulpit by asking them, “But did you offer Christ?.

I must never become confused into thinking that people are in church because of me. True, we preachers preach through our personality. When a colleague and I edited an encyclopedia of preaching, we noted that the most-quoted phrase was Phillips Brooks’s classic definition of preaching as “truth communicated through personality..

We contemporary preachers have got the personality thing down fairly well. It’s the truth thing that may be in peril in our preaching.

Some time ago, when we preachers were first being urged to “share your story” and to lay ourselves bare before the people, I heard a sermon that began, “Prayer is a problem for me.” From there the preacher went on about his misgivings, doubts, and dilemmas with prayer. At the time I thought it refreshingly honest.

On the way home from church, my wife said, “I suppose there was a time when a congregation would be shocked, or at least titillated, by having a pastor admit that he was inept at prayer. Nowadays, it might be more exciting to hear a pastor stand and say, ‘I may have problems with prayer, but thank God we Christians have resources greater than my limited experience.’ Then he could have quoted Paul or Teresa of Avila or someone who knew more than he did..

See why I am grateful to be living with this woman.

In a society where the emotional strip-tease is the standard stuff of daytime television, in a culture drowning in narcissistic excess, where we are encouraged relentlessly to scan our egos, as if there is no help for us other than that which is self-derived, do we preachers need to be “authentic”.

Authenticity is more than a matter of being who I am; it’s a matter of being who God calls me to be. For preachers, authenticity means being true, not just to our feelings, but true to our vocation, true to God’s call.

We serve God’s people by laying aside ourselves and taking up the cross and preaching Christ and him crucified, whether we feel like it next Sunday or not.

William H. Willimon is dean of the chapel and professor of Christian ministry at Duke University Chapel in Durham, North Carolina.