Losing The Fig Leaves - Leaning In To Relational Authenticity

By S. Crawley

Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash

I wasn't expecting it.

I was in Finland at the end of 2024, in conversation with a senior leader in the community there.

We'd been talking for a while, honestly and openly. He was in his forties, sharing about life: some of the good things, some of the harder things. His family, his marriage, the dynamics and friction that come with two people trying to build a life together. I'd moved into coaching mode, asking questions and drawing things out. He was very free in sharing.

Then, while we were mid-conversation, a couple of younger community members - a man and woman in their twenties - came and sat down with us to listen in.

What I expected

In most settings I've been part of, this would have been the moment the conversation quietly shifted.

The kind of exchange we were having tends to carry an unspoken understanding. Personal, honest, about marriage and the difficulty it sometimes involves — this is a private conversation that you shift into safer territory when others arrive.

But my new friend didn't skip a beat - he just kept going.

Naturally, comfortably, as if the arrival of younger community members changed nothing about what we were discussing or how we were discussing it. I took the cue and continued. We kept going exactly where we had been. His openness set the tone for the room, and I followed it.

When His Wife Came Past

Then his wife appeared. She saw us talking, came over, and sat down.

I'll be honest — I was curious again. How would the husband respond?

Absolutely nothing changed, she simply joined in.

Same tone, same honesty, the same quality of ease. We were talking about real things: communication, difficulty, what marriage actually asks of you. None of that changed when she arrived.

There was something genuinely beautiful about it. The conversation continued and deepened, and at the end, all of us prayed together. The senior leader, his wife, the younger community members who had come and sat with us, and me.


Naming What I Saw

The phrase that keeps returning to me, as I've reflected on that evening, is relational authenticity.

There was no sense of needing to appear a certain way. No adjustment for the audience. No careful management of what the younger people in the room were allowed to hear. No performance, no hiding of weakness, no curation of the story being told.

The fig leaves weren't there.

That image carries weight, particularly in Christian community and leadership culture.

So much of the time, the fig leaves are very much present. We protect our image. We perform our okayness. We keep the real conversations for the people we've decided are safe, and we carefully manage everything else.

That's understandable — vulnerability costs something, especially when you're carrying responsibility for others.

But those fig leaves carry a cost too.

The people around us can sense when the real person is behind glass.

And communities shaped by that dynamic can only go as deep as their leaders are willing to go.

What I observed in that room was different. An honest, open family conversation — senior and junior, husband and wife, all present together, with brokenness and goodness named in the same breath. Without inhibition. Without a threshold for what could be acknowledged out loud. The younger community members were simply part of it. They belonged in the room.

I've seen this pattern more than once in this network. It isn't accidental.


What This Makes Possible

When the fig leaves come down, something opens up.

Depth of relationship is only possible to the degree that people are willing to be known — genuinely known. When there is real safety to say, "This is how things are, this is what's hard, this is what's good," trust grows in ways that no wineskin or rhythm can manufacture from the outside.

And it multiplies.

Those younger community members sitting in that circle weren't just observing something healthy, they were being shaped by it and were learning how to do marriage and community where that kind of honesty and transparency is normal.

That's worth building. And it's worth asking how.

Getting Practical

As you think about God's vision for your city and/or affinity group:

1) Jesus tells his disciples that the world will recognise them by the love they have for one another (John 13:34-35). What would it look like for that kind of visible, unhidden love to characterise your team or community?

2) The senior leader in this story didn't adjust when younger members joined an honest conversation. What would need to change in your team or community for that kind of openness to become the natural rhythm?


S. Crawley serves leaders and teams in Asia carrying a vision for their cities and is passionate about helping people grow in authentic relationships. He also knows how to make nachos.

© 2026 S. Crawley. All rights reserved.

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