The Good Kind of Deconstruction

There is a deconstruction that is good. The one where we tear down the rotted-out beams, rip up faulty foundation, and make space for real faith to emerge.

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My parents lived near my grandpa in his final years of life. This afforded many opportunities for memories and provided care for him as he neared the end. When my mom reflected on his last moments, she told me he never stopped growing. It’s hard to change the older you get. Even I feel this, knowing that I like my opinions and my routines. The mark of maturity is adapting and listening even when we’re the oldest one in the room. Faithful Christians change their minds even up to the end. I remember one seminary professor telling me that in the process of writing a book, he began thinking one thing and by the end had changed his mind. Only God stays the same. We, as finite humans, have never fully arrived. If we’re breathing, there is room for improvement.

A lot has been written about Christians who no longer identify as Christians any longer—or deconstruction. If growing in our faith is about “constructing” a house we can live in confidently. “Deconstructing” is about tearing down the house, revealing it was either built on sand or was held up by flimsy wood.

I’ve known many who once identified as Christians, but now see belief as untenable. I’ve had similar struggles over the years. But what I’m struck by in hearing their stories, and in processing my own, is that the path to rejecting Christianity all together often seems like a choice between two unsustainable options. You either give up and fully deconstruct. Or you bury your questions and resort to blind faith.

Neither feels hopeful to me. And I wonder if the problem for some is not that they don’t believe, it’s that they need help unpacking belief from tradition. Especially if you grew up in a Christian context, you were likely told things about the Bible, but not always given tools for discovering truth yourself. Every culture has pitfalls, and the path towards growth is uncovering what is biblical and what is cultural. And when people have questions about what tradition taught them, our guard goes up in defense, instead of inviting questions and self-discovery. We’ve grown so accustomed to protecting the faith against all attacks, that even curiosity and struggle are perceived as a threat.

If we believe God holds all power and the Bible is sufficient for all things, then questions shouldn’t scare us. They should invigorate us. We know the One who holds all the answers! If we believe God plays the long-game and sanctification is a process, then doubt and deconstruction should be the norm. We’re in the marathon towards Christ-likeness, not the sprint. And in a marathon, sometimes you walk and sometimes you hit a wall—but eventually you get to the finish line. It just takes a long time, and a lot of ups and downs.

In his book, After Doubt: How to Question Your Faith Without Losing It, AJ Swodoba writes that there are three fundamental stages on our theological journey[1]:

1. Theological construction (this is when we are saved and building upon what we’ve been taught. We typically are uncritical of beliefs in this stage because it’s all new.)

2. Deconstruction (this is when we begin to untangle what the Bible says with what we have been taught)

3. Reconstruction (this is the step that we don’t always hear about, but it’s when we take all that we’ve learned and rebuild the faith we know and the faith we were taught.)

Swodoba talks about our theological journey as being “between idols.” He writes,

Losing faith in one thing can create a need for faith in something else. While painful, these experiences can awaken our need for something deeper, trustable, sustaining. Transition causes us to look inward, to question the things we’ve held dear, to yearn for more secure securities.[2]

Deconstruction often begins with the death of dream, or the smashing of an idol, or the fragility of a belief system. The ground beneath can’t hold, so we’re swallowed up and can’t get ourselves out of it. But what if the church can be a safe place? What if the church provides the hand needed to pull the doubter out of the quicksand? What if the church is the path to reconstruction?

When I think about doubt and deconstruction, I’m struck by Jesus’ response to doubting people. He’s never stressed by it. He adapts to the needs of the moment. He gives encouragement. He says true words. But he never condemns. He never casts them out. He’s our model for responding to those who doubt, and even for our own doubting hearts.

Swodoba goes on to write that what people are rejecting isn’t Christianity, or even Jesus. They’re rejecting the version of him they’ve been spoon fed all their lives. When they can’t make sense of their doubts and their faith, they find unbelief more attractive because they’ve never seen the real Jesus. They’ve only seen idols.

He writes,

Maybe the “Christianity” so many in our culture today are rejecting isn’t Christianity. Often, they’re rejecting false Christianity. They simply haven’t tasted the real Jesus yet. Or they have tasted Jesus, and rigid religion has proven to be a poor substitute.    Read Jesus and tell me he isn’t worth following. Look at Christ and dare to say his   way of life is not worth giving up everything to follow. I’m slowly beginning to believe that it isn’t true Christianity that so many people are rejecting—although some are.     More often, they are just doubting those things that could never bring them life.

Sometimes we’re just “between idols.”[3]

A healthy faith is one that leaves space for every stage of the theological journey. Untangling culture and tradition from beliefs is the work of the Spirit in our lives. His goal is to make us like Jesus Christ, and we all have baggage to leave behind. We all have idols that need smashing so real faith can emerge.

There is a deconstruction that is good. The one where we tear down the rotted-out beams, rip up faulty foundation, and make space for reconstruction. And restored faith comes to life.

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[1] After Doubt, AJ Swodoba, 26-28

[2] 34

[3] 41