We are living in an age obsessed with authenticity. We want authentic food, genuine products, original brands, natural ingredients and we love anything that is organic. We examine labels carefully because nobody wants to discover that what they paid for as “genuine” is actually an imitation.
When it comes to people, there are some people with whom you never have to wonder where you stand. They may not always say what you want to hear. They may not be polished. They may occasionally make you wish they had a small internal editing department. But they are real. What they say to your face is what they will say when you leave the room.
A Rare Kind of Honesty
That is what makes Jesus’ words about Bartholomew, traditionally identified with Nathanael, so striking: “Here is a true Israelite. There is no duplicity in him.” What a compliment to receive from Christ. Jesus is not praising his intelligence, his eloquence, his accomplishments or even his faith. He is praising his integrity. He is saying, in effect, “This man is not divided inside. There is no second version hiding behind the first.”
And Nathanael is certainly not polished. Philip tells him about Jesus of Nazareth, and he immediately replies, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” It is wonderfully blunt. Philip must have known his friend well enough not to be shocked.
That is beautiful friendship. Philip trusts Nathanael enough to let him come and see the truth for himself. Nathanael is skeptical, but he comes. His mind is not closed. He can question without becoming cynical. He can doubt without becoming arrogant. He can hold an opinion strongly and still admit that he might be wrong.
That is a rare kind of honesty. Sometimes we confuse authenticity with saying whatever comes into our heads. That is not what Jesus is praising. Authenticity is not rudeness with a spiritual label attached to it. It is the refusal to live a double life. It is when the person I appear to be and the person I actually am are not strangers to one another.
We can become experts at presenting edited versions of ourselves. At work, one version. At home, another. At church, perhaps the most carefully polished version of all. We say, “I don’t care what people think,” and then spend the next three days wondering what people think. We say, “I am not angry,” in a tone that suggests several witnesses should probably be present.
God Already Knows Us
But before God, all editing becomes useless. Prayer is the one place where there is absolutely no advantage in pretending. God already knows the anger, the jealousy, the fear, the disappointment, the doubt, the desire, the weakness. We do not shock God by telling Him the truth. In fact, truth is where He begins to work.
That may be why Jesus responds so warmly to Nathanael. This man has questions. He has prejudices. He is not always right. But he is reachable because he is honest. The world spends enormous energy authenticating everything around us: documents, medicines, diamonds, signatures, antiques, even olive oil. Yet perhaps the more urgent question is whether our own lives could pass the same test.
Saint Bartholomew leaves us today with a beautiful possibility: that one day Christ might look at us and say, not that we were impressive, successful or admired, but something far greater: “This person was real. There was no duplicity in him.”
