Advent Meditations - Week 2: Finding Your True Self
I ended the first Advent mediation with a quote from Thomas Merton. His description of the false self sounds a lot like a character at the beginning of a Christmas movie, before they learn what Christmas is all about and stop being so self-centered already. His language about true and false selves can help us think about what repentance looks like at Advent. But I can’t help thinking about the way similar language is commonly used today. Ziggy Marley sums up the spirit of the age when he sings, “I got to be true to myself.” Carl Truman’s book, The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self, traces how, in the modern era, the self became psychologized and the psychology became sexualized. In this landscape, a person’s true self is seen as little more than an expression of his or her appetites and desires.
That is not what Merton has in mind. Contrary to the spirit of our day, he writes:
“All sin starts from the assumption that my false self, the self that exists only in my own egocentric desires, is the fundamental reality of life to which everything else in the universe is ordered. Thus I use up my life in the desire for pleasures and the thirst for experiences, for power, honor, knowledge and love, to clothe this false self and construct its nothingness into something objectively real. And I wind experiences around myself and cover myself with pleasures and glory like bandages in order to make myself perceptible to myself and to the world, as if I were an invisible body that could only become visible when something visible covered its surface.
“But there is no substance under the things with which I am clothed. I am hollow, and my structure of pleasures and ambitions has no foundation. I am objectified in them. But they are all destined by their very contingency to be destroyed. And when they are gone there will be nothing left of me but my own nakedness and emptiness and hollowness, to tell me that I am my own mistake.”
That’s pretty grim, but you can see how his view of the false self opposes the popular narrative we encounter today. You can also see reflected in his description those supposedly successful yet unhappy and hollow protagonists from our favorite Christmas stories.
What, then, is the true self? How do we know our true selves? How does Advent call us to an annual ritual of returning to our true selves?
I can say it no better than Merton: “The secret of my identity is hidden in the love and mercy of God.” The Apostle Paul wrote something similar to the Colossians: “For you died to this life, and your real life is hidden with Christ in God” (Col 3:3).
It’s a great trick of God’s enemy to convince people that real life, the true self, can be found apart from God. But if we pay attention, we will see how painfully false this assumption is. Many today who have devoted their lives to being true to themselves have simply adopted fashionable modes of relating to others. The true self is little more than an image curated by contemporary taste makers. And Merton diagnoses this person as a false self—a hollow shell with a nice veneer. Even our moral convictions and religious beliefs have become a product of fashion. We want to be seen as the kind of person who does x or supports y.
Let’s stop here for a moment, because I’m starting to feel just a little self righteous, thinking about all the mask-wearing false selves out there. Before we continue, let’s remember Paul’s message to the Romans: “You may think you can condemn such people, but you are just as bad, and you have no excuse! When you say they are wicked and should be punished, you are condemning yourself, for you who judge others do these very same things” (Rom. 2:1).
I have a false self, just like you do. It’s the expression of my sin nature. It’s not just the moral mistakes I make; it’s all the ways I fail to live my true self, which is hidden in Christ. And before Christ called me out of darkness and into light, I was a false self through and through.
Self-righteousness has no place in the true self. Finding our true selves, hidden in Christ, is a gift that we receive from the Holy Spirit who turns on the lights in our souls as we trust Jesus. It’s nothing for us to brag about; it is something for us to live.
So take a deep breath. Remember the grace that saved you, and when you are ready, read on.
A passage in John’s Revelation that you might overlook on the way to the exciting bits about beasts and marks speaks profoundly to the spirit of our age. Conveying the words of God, John writes, “To the one who conquers … I will also give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name is inscribed that no one knows except the one who receives it” (Rev 2:17). It’s an odd and wonderful image. Just as God gave Abram a new name, just as Jesus gave Simon a new name, he has new names for you and me—for those whose true self is hidden in Him.
This is what I find the most profound about this verse. It tells us that those who receive this new name will not share it with anyone. It will be a secret between that person and God. Can you imagine such intimacy? Can you imagine having such a transformative experience as receiving a new name from your creator, hearing the one whose breath you’ve been borrowing for your whole life speak a name that makes every cell in your body feel seen, and known, and loved—and then imagine that you simply treasure it in your heart. You need to project nothing to others. You don’t need to compare your name to your neighbor’s. You don’t even need to discuss what it felt like to receive the stone. You just receive the new name and rest your soul in his love.
But that’s Revelation and it’s difficult to understand and it’s about some day. How do we live now in the shadow of that future light?
It’s the work of a lifetime and it goes by different names: sanctification, holiness, discipleship, spiritual growth. We have to recognize that this work is countercultural on several levels. Our culture promises quick and easy results. Sanctification requires what Eugene Peterson calls, “a long obedience in the same direction.” Our culture promises best practices and methods to manage and control outcomes. Spiritual growth is about yielding control to the work of the Holy Spirit.
There are no quick and easy pathways to lasting results, not even spiritual ones. But you can experience seasons of awakening and renewal—seasons of turning away from your false self and toward your true Christ-hidden self. So as I end this reflection, I have no challenge, no steps. But I invite you to pay attention to the things in your life that encourage you to wear the mask of the false self. And pay attention to the places where you are encouraged to be your true self. Here are a few question to help you develop this awareness:
When do I feel most insecure about my weaknesses?
When do I feel at home and welcomed despite my weaknesses?
In which conversations do I find myself inflating my competence?
In which conversations am I comfortable owning my limitations?
Which voices in my life increase cynicism and doubt?
Which voices in my life increase faith and curiosity?
When do I feel the most scattered, distracted, and bored?
When do I feel the most inspired and worshipful?
What in my life makes me more impatient and hurried?
What in my life encourages me to slow down and trust?
What or who makes me afraid and anxious?
What or who fills you with peace?
Of course this list could be much longer, but that should get you started cultivating an awareness of those things that nudge you toward your true self and your false self. Ask the Holy Spirit to light your path and then take inventory. In the background of all these questions is our use of digital technologies like social media, news media, and productivity apps. While technology isn’t the only thing pushing us to embrace our false selves, most of us can’t ask these questions without a serious audit of our use of digital technologies.
Finally, as you ask these questions and take account of technology’s role in your pursuit of finding yourself hidden in Christ, I want to encourage you with the words that Paul wrote to the Ephesian church: “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared ahead of time for us to do” (Eph 2:10).
I am not talking about self-help. I am not talking about self-actualization or any other self-directed pursuit. It is God’s work in us that will make us more like Jesus—more like the one who is most truly human and therefore most true to ourselves. And still, we are His co-workers in the work he is doing (1 Cor 3:9).
May we all rest in his love, confident in his work in us, as we seek to find ourselves in him.