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Being Genuine: The Lost Art of Authenticity

People sometimes tell me I have expensive tastes.  If they show me a handful of items without telling me the prices, I’ll generally gravitate towards the expensive side of the scale without meaning to.  If I am looking at furniture, real wood generally wins out over particle board with veneer, at least until the price tag comes out.  In short, one of my traits is an appreciation for a thing being genuine or authentic.  I see value in the genuine article.

Becoming engaged is a good case in point.  If a man is genuinely telling a woman that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her exclusively, he would most likely give the woman a sign of that authentic motive, such as an engagement ring.  The sign would involve some sacrifice on the man’s part (expense) and would involve (one would think) a real object of value (such as a diamond).  Now I’ve probably just pleased all of the jewelers out there, but I’m not trying to help sell their wares.  Nor do I approve of unscrupulous jewelers who charge outrageous markups beyond the value of their merchandise.  My point is that, for so great a proposition as marriage, it would make sense that the sign of that proposition is in genuine proportion to the thing being offered.

In my case, given my propensity for the genuine article, I made the jewelers very happy indeed.  Suffice to say that I went with “internally flawless” and leave it at that.  My point is not to flaunt my extravagance but to introduce the concept of being genuine, which I think is becoming a lost art.

The Genuine Article

Anymore when I walk into a furniture store or a home improvement store, I lament the lack of real wood and the more usual affordability of the composite “fake stuff”.  Then I look at the price tag on the real wood, and the total devaluation of the dollar hits home.  Cabinetry is particularly depressing.  One’s eye is briefly faked out by the thin veneer on the front face of the cabinet before it rests on total and absolute particle board let-down.  The philosophy apparently is:  if you can’t see it, it may as well be fake.  Wood flooring is also a good study.  Consider how many other materials they use in ever more clever ways to imitate wood, some going so far as to print a wood grain onto some cardboard-like substance.

It is said that imitation is the highest form of flattery, but in this case it seems more a form of mockery.  Are they trying to sell me a real wood cabinet for $$$ while for just $, I can get this mockery of a cabinet?  Some add insult to injury as in the phrase, “genuine imitation mink”.  Maybe it won’t be long before we get “genuine particle board”.

Of course, it is understandable why the imitation stuff is popular.  It is cheap.  Sometimes, cheap is adequate, and in other cases, even preferable, if the intended purpose is temporary.  If, however, you are looking for something of quality that will last, cheap doesn’t usually cut it. After a few years, the shelves of that particle board book case start to sag and, in spite of that nice veneer, you ask yourself, “Is this truly furniture?”

A Thing of Beauty

When we witness the popularity of fake things and the eventual disappointment they leave us with, we see the relationship between truth and beauty.  The true thing, by virtue of it being true is, of necessity, beautiful.  Hence it is self-evident that if God is Truth, He is also Beauty.  When we look at the fake wood furniture, by contrast, we may see an outer veneer that we find beautiful.  Yet, this beauty is superficial, a distraction from the lack of beauty and substance of the actual “wood” beneath.  The veneer is actually mocking you, trying to trick you into believing what lies within is as genuine as what appears on the surface.

We personally must contend with the temptation of nursing an exterior veneer of holiness while ignoring the interior life whereby we grow in actual holiness.  We should take to heart Christ’s admonition when he compared the pharisees to whited sepulchers.  This warning is especially pertinent to those who fall away from the use of the sacraments (the ordinary means of obtaining sanctifying grace) and decide they can become holy on their own or by “going directly to God”.  Consider further the admonitions against lukewarmness found in the Apocalypse.

A Thing of Ugliness?

I think we can safely say that–taken as a group–modern man has rejected truth.  It should come as no surprise that this is echoed by a rejection of beauty.  It is practically blasphemous in these days to declare in absolute terms that a thing is ugly.  We are instead caught up in entangled logic that demands we not offend anyone’s tastes, no matter how bad they are in reality.  We must not offend our modern sensibilities which tell us each person has a right to express himself in any way he desires, no matter how vulgar, ugly, or sick.

It is for this reason also that I take exception to “Christian Rock”, “Christian Rap”, “Christian Kumbaya” and the like.  We are putting a “Christian” or “sacred” veneer or label on a thing that is intrinsically not beautiful and by extension opposed to truth to the degree in which it is opposed to beauty.  We may call them “Christian” songs, but the substance of the music is not sacred.  When such songs are used during Holy Mass, they are all the more repugnant, for we are holding up a whited sepulcher of devotion in the presence of Truth and Beauty Himself.  We are placing something that is not genuine before the light of Eternal Truth.  It will be burned like that dross which is tossed into the flame.

How about Being Genuine?

Fortunately, unlike obtaining the genuine material possession, it doesn’t require a lot of money to be genuine oneself.  Being genuine starts with humility, recognizing ourselves for what we are and putting ourselves in the proper place with respect to God.  But it doesn’t end there.  Being genuine is a lifelong conversion of the old Adam (the particle board, if you will) to the New Adam, Jesus Christ.

About the Featured Image

The featured image is a detail from “Bague de Fiançailles” which is in the public domain.

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