I’m trying to appreciate your idea of ‘deconstruction.’

Really, I want to…
but I can’t…
because I’m not sure I know what you mean when you say that word.

When you say it, I don’t know whether to hug you, high-five you, cry with you, or laugh with you.

I wish we could be on the same page here. Because, again, I really want to understand whatever it is you mean by “deconstruction.”

I bet you’re frustrated too…
by how many wildly different experiences that seemingly simple term tries to account for.

It’s like a professional football team trying to share a single baby blanket…
It’s …confusing …and uncomfortable …and awkward for everyone.

De-con-struc-tion.
Four syllables, yet pitifully insufficient.
Abysmally ambiguous.

I think that word is broken…

But if we could fix it…
then maybe we’d understand each other better, because…
I’ve had doubts myself...
Maybe I’ve even ‘deconstructed’…
Maybe even several times.

I mean, I have plenty of doubts right this very moment… as we speak… and, believe me, some of those questions are ones I’d REALLY like answered!

Seriously, I have a living note called “Big Hairy Questions” about God, the Bible, and faith. A couple of them are playful, but most are deadly serious. The list grows and it shrinks and then it grows again. And some of the questions have been in the queue for a while now.

My list of questions keeps me honest… with God and with myself…
because there have been times I fail to admit to myself that I’ve got doubts…
And, during those times, I think the denying actually hurts more than the doubting.

A few years back, I sat on a question for months without realizing that it was a question I even had.
It suffocated my soul and choked out my prayer life.

My spirit shriveled.
My soul shrank.
It hurt me.
It scared me.

At other times, I’ve taken my questions to the grindstone. I’ve dug in and researched HARD. Gotten up early. Stayed up late. Gotten straight-up nerdy about it - hanging out with dead scholars instead of not-dead friends.

Okay. Here’s me being vulnerable:
Can I share something that’s haunted my ‘Big Hairy Questions’ note for a while?

Question: “God can’t change, right (Mal. 3:6)? But at some point he became a human (Jn. 1:14)… So, how can God become something, but not change?”

Answer: Still pending…

Ugh! I lose sleep over questions like that!

And I don’t have it in me to settle for pithy, quick, cheap, thoughtless answers like, “Well, God is mysterious and beyond human comprehension so you’ll just have to trust Him.” That boat doesn’t float when my big doubting rear is sitting in it. What I need is for someone to show me in the Book how it works!

Picture me pounding my index finger into the cover of a big fat Bible during each word in that last sentence: “Show. Me. In. The. Book!”

Inevitably, with patience, my questions find answers… Every single time.

The ‘Problem of Evil’… not such a problem right now.
The Reliability of the Bible… settled.
The Relationship Between Faith & Science… they’re getting along great in my world!

Eventually, my heart settles and I end up glad I didn’t give up or lose my faith.

Maybe that’s not your deconstruction story…
Maybe you’ve lost more than sleep over your doubts, concerns, or questions…
Maybe you’ve lost your religion too…

And maybe you miss it.
Or maybe you don’t.
Everyone’s got a different story.

I know lots of people who have left the Christian faith who seem to still have their worlds in tact… They’re still good, successful, happy people. In fact, some of my friends say they’re happier than ever without Christianity.

Personally, I’m not in it because Christianity makes me happiest…
I have lot’s of quick fixes up my sleeve if I were after ‘happy.’
No. I’m in it because I think the Bible’s true.

I know myself - If I lost my faith I’d eventually be a pretty ugly lump… but only after trying to remake myself into the most selfie-friendly version of me possible. You’d love that guy… for a while at least.

Then I know others who not only lost their faith…
but their marriage…
and their kids…
and their health…
and their lifesavings…
and every drop of their joy…

When they pulled the plug on religion,
They didn’t expect their entire world to shut down too.

Generally, deconstruction is not an exhilarating or pretty experience...

Side-effects of Deconstruction may include:

A sense of lostness or aimlessness.
Deep feelings of loneliness, shame, and fear.
A sense of self-betrayal.
Depression.
Friend-loss.

If symptoms persist, then good luck.

In most of my conversations with fellow deconstructors, I find they are thoughtful hurting people who slowly woke up to find themselves in a ‘doubt-land’ they never intended to be in. Often, they wander around doubt-land in circles… mistaking self-isolation for bravery… intending on wandering back into faith-land “someday soon,” but never quite seeming to get there.

Of course, Big Hairy Questions aren’t the only road to doubt-land
Sometimes it’s just one Basic Question…
Like CS Lewis wrote after his wife died:

“Meanwhile, Where is God?… Go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence.”

To all the happy Christians who haven’t been through pain that completely unmoored them - may the rug never be pulled out from under your blessed and pampered feet.

And to all those who have felt abandoned by God when it mattered most, I see you.

But again… that’s just one type of story.

And the problem still lingers: when you tell me, “I’m deconstructing,”
I don’t know whether I should be happy for you…
whether I should hold you in a bear hug…
or whether I should cry for your family and shake you until you snap out of it.

So, I really do mean it: I NEED to understand what YOU mean by “deconstruction…”

Because, again, I just don’t know whether we’re talking about the same thing.

…But I want to.
I want to know for sure that we’re talking about the same thing.

So here’s a hare-brained idea: How about a scale?

The Bible doesn’t have a scale for deconstruction per se… but it does have stories about people who had big hairy questions and faith crises of their own… whose experiences were very different. Some of them did their research in a book, and others did their ‘research’ in a bottle.

And since you have a faith background… and since your faith-deconstruction has to do with… well… “faith”… I’m hoping you’re okay with this scale using faith-y language.

I’ve labeled each of these “D1” through “D7” (as in “Deconstruction Category 1” through “Deconstruction Category 7”). I’ve categorized them based on the experiences of real humans in the Bible (except for D4 - that’s based on people in a couple of Jesus’ parables).

D1 - Berean Deconstruction

You had a handful of big questions about the faith - including many inaccurate things you’d been told as a child by adults you trusted. You took these questions to study, to prayer, and to conversation with other believers. You never stopped believing and behaving like a person of faith even though the questions were there in your mind. After a time, you found answers that completely put your questions to rest.
(Text: Acts 17:10-14)

D2 - Peter & Thomas Deconstruction

Something you experienced shook you to your core. It was mostly unwelcome and out of your control. It rattled your faith, instilled serious doubt, and you felt like you were drowning. All you could see was wind and waves, like Peter… or the ghost of your crucified friend, like Thomas. Maybe you didn’t know what to do, but you never stopped getting together with other Christians. In time God helped reframe those experiences for you. Jesus reached out his hand and grabbed you… or pressed your hand into His side so your doubts shrank or evaporated altogether.
(Text: Matthew 14:22-33; John 20:24-28)

D3 - John The Baptist Deconstruction

You couldn’t have given more to Jesus in your early years. You were all in, in absolutely every sense. Blood and sweat. Bone and breath. But somewhere down the road it all turned out to be a bundle of unmet expectations… and maybe that was your own naïve fault. You wonder if Jesus is anything more than a good teacher from ancient Israel - and it terrifies you to think about what it means if all your dearly held beliefs are actually wrong. It’s clear where the doubt came from, but unclear where it will end.
(Text: Matthew 11:1-19, 14:1-12)

D4 - Rock & Sand Deconstruction

You were a happy Christian but a life-flood or two (or ten) came in and swept your faith out to sea. It wasn’t so much that you deconstructed your faith as much as life’s circumstances did the work of deconstruction for you. The storm(s) exposed some rot in the wood of your faith-structure and it felt like the more rot you tore out the more rot you found. It’s also possible that, after the rot-pulling left your faith depleted, you found very little compassion in your “christian” community. Their abandonment + the cruelty of the storm + the shell of your faith produced the answer: IF God exists at all, then He’s cruel and his Church is equally so. Becoming a Christian again might not be entirely off the table but big things would have to change.
(Text: Matthew 7:24-27, 13:20)

D5 - Demas Deconstruction

Christianity wasn’t for you. It worked while it worked but now it doesn’t. It was good when you were younger, but now you’re more drawn to another more compelling truth - possibly “your truth” or perhaps “no truth!” Many things the Bible puritanically called “sin” you now realize are just fine… fun even. You’re probably tired of Christians who judge you for doing what you want; because it’s not like it hurts them. As you considered leaving Christianity you may have been unwilling (or didn’t think) to seriously consider any Christian perspectives on the matter - God, parents, church-people, and the Bible were unwelcome in the process because they were the very things on trial for you. Their truth is fine for them, but they should chill out or leave you alone to live your life.
(Text: 2 Timothy 4:10; Matthew 13:22)

D6 - King Solomon Deconstruction

You suddenly and drastically unchained yourself from toxic relationships that wanted to hold you back from being true to yourself - including God and church. Honestly, you had a thousand reasons to unhitch from the Christian faith. Then, when people wouldn’t celebrate your pursuit of the things that made you feel most like the real you, you cancelled them on principal. You didn’t need that negativity in your life. You’ve found a new tribe and style that celebrates you for you. It’s possible you’ve found a new tribe and new style more than once in order to keep improving yourself and in order to keep the toxicity from creeping back in.
(Text: Ecclesiastes 1-12, Matthew 13:22)

D7 - Hymenaeus and Alexander Deconstruction

Spare the details - the fact of the matter is you quickly and vehemently rejected the Christian faith and now fiercely oppose it with brute incredulity. Your entire being rejects Christianity as a body rejects rotten food. Christians are a plague: manipulators of the poor and vulnerable, brainwashers of children, indoctrinators of the weak-minded. They are crusaders and inquisitors; a fascist and biggoted blight on the world. It’s a rich white man’s religion designed to thrive by oppressing those who refuse to conform to man-made norms thereby perpetuating its own existence. You’d sooner listen to the dry-heaving of an ill pig than a Sunday sermon. Their God is a genocidal, infanticidal, misogynistic, homophobic old man who is said to have murdered His own Son! Your former church and ‘friends’ cut you out of their lives - something you publicly decry as hypocrisy yet simultaneously couldn’t care less about. They call you “unrepentant” but you don’t have anything to repent of. They may use words like “apostate” or “blasphemer” or even “heretic” to describe you… to which you take a bow and say “I’d like to thank the academy and my former pastor for this award.”
(Text: 1 Timothy 1:18-20)

Certainly, more tick-marks belong on this scale.
I mean, 7 categories couldn’t possibly encapsulate every story.
And no two stories are the same.

I know for a fact that your story isn’t perfectly represented by this scale.
I’m a bit of a desconstruction-scale-mutt myself.
Maybe in the next edition we can get a slider on this bad boy.

Or maybe you didn’t like one or more of the categories…
Because they don’t fit into your definition of “deconstruction.”
And I suppose that’s the point:
We’ve all defined it differently.

To some, deconstruction is apostasy.
To others, doubt.
To others, it’s about tradition.
To others, it’s about Jesus.
To others, it’s about pain.

I don’t mean for this scale to be an ending place…
some file-box where we organize people into neat folders and then push the big metal door shut.

In fact, I don’t want you to use the scale at all.
I would gag if people actually began using the scale-language…
Like, “I don’t know about you but I’m more of a Peter-deconstructionist myself.”
Or, “You know Shirly? Ya, she’s really going through a Solomonic deconstruction.”

The scale shouldn’t be used.
But the principal presented in the scale should be understood:
”Deconstruction” means different things to different people.

And now, maybe you’ll let me tell you how I feel about it all…
How I feel about the fact that all us deconstructors deconstruct differently.

It feels, to me, like there are healthy and unhealthy ways to deconstruct.

It feels like there are ways to deconstruct that provide dignity for one’s story without condoning or ignoring the parts of it that were wrong or painful.

And then there are ways to deconstruct that spit on your own story while it lays in a shallow grave. It hurts you and the people who contributed positively to your story.

I guess it goes back to the scale. D1-D2 people typically deconstruct thoughtfully and thoroughly. They have conviction but they’re also open to new ideas. They include God and others in the process of their deconstruction. They’re like the Bereans of Acts 17. They didn’t pack their bags and flip the bird to their mud-stuck parents. They cracked open their Bibles, pushed their noses into the papyrus, and collaboratively duked it out. Luke called them “noble” for how they deconstructed (Acts 17:10).

On the other hand, D5-D7 people often leave a wake of destruction behind them on their journey. In fact, they might cancel you for even suggesting that. They live for the moment and won’t slow down enough to admit that the way they’ve chosen to re-image their lives has hurt their loved ones and themselves. They move so fast that their vision of their past is blurry… so blurry that sometimes they forget and mislabel the faith-events of their childhood. They tend to paint sweet little Sunday School teachers as bloodsucking brainwashers. And in the present, they rack up decisions they’ll regret one day… and if they won’t regret it, their family will. They’re like Solomon - the wisest knucklehead ever to live.

When Solomon (a D5’er) got old, he didn’t see his deconstruction journey as one to be copied… He ends his deconstruction autobiography by saying this,

“Everything has been heard and this is the end of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil.” (Ecc. 12:13-14)

That’s Solomon’s way of saying, “Don’t do what I did! Keep following God no matter what!”

The Bible seems to say that some types of deconstruction are “noble” and that other types shouldn’t be copied.

Of course, we deconstructors are people. And every deconstructor’s journey has an origin story, doesn’t it? MAYBE yours started with a Big Hairy Question. Or maybe it started with a big creepy pastor who should’ve been fired (or imprisoned) for being creepy but his loyalty-blind board defended him and not you. (They should really re-read Solomon’s last words… yikes!)

Maybe your Christian dad is King David the sweet Psalmist after God’s own heart (2 Sam. 23:1; 1 Sam. 13:14)… and gosh, good for you. But sometimes your Christian Dad is King David the cheating, lying, murdering, distant father (2 Sam. 11-15) who gave you mountains of advice that he didn’t seem to take himself… That could put a stick in just about anyone’s faith-spokes!

And maybe your Christian dad is BOTH…
Sheesh… no wonder David’s boys were all… special.

The adults who raised us as children have immense influence on our adult-faith… and sometimes they leave a knot that can only be untangled by divine miracle.

I’m not here to throw stones. You’re a human being with a long list of experiences that have brought you to where you are. I just want to be on the same page. And I want you to be a healthy person with healthy relationships.

And of course, I’d be really selfish if I didn’t want you to experience what I experience with Jesus every day - because it’s sweet.

And I hope you know how kind Jesus is to doubters…
If you’re a doubter… Jesus loves you…
(cr. Matt. 14:31, 28:16-20; Mark 4:39-40, 9:23-27; Jude 22)

So… let’s get on the same page. I don’t know whether it’ll end in a hug or with you shaking your head… just know that I can’t applaud your deconstruction journey if it’s hurting you or the people who love you. I love you too much to do that.

And know that your story isn’t over yet.

So… where have you been? Where are you at? And, most importantly, where are you headed?

[Thanks to Josh Kluth and Matthew Wick for refining and contributing to key thoughts within this article.]