In a previous blog, I shared about my journey to find a more integrated faith. In this blog, I talk about the process of faith deconstruction that led me there. It was a long windy road that took years. Nevertheless, I am grateful for every mile traveled.
Imagine your car breaks down. Because you don’t have the money to buy a new one, you decide to fix it. However, you do not know any mechanics. You still need a mode of transportation and bikes are out of the question. That is when you decide to fix the engine yourself. Your first step is taking the engine apart, piece by piece, inspecting to see what can be wrong with it. After this long process, you are now ready to put the engine back together. Yet, to save time and effort, you decide to let go of the parts that are broken and those that are unnecessary. Instead, you rebuild it a leaner version of the original to ensure you are able to have a working car to take you from point a to point b.
That is what faith deconstruction looks like.
It is a long and laborious process of taking beliefs apart, inspecting what may not serve you any longer. Seeing the good and the bad and choosing to retain only what is needed for the journey ahead.
A Personal Story
Deconstructing one’s faith is not for the faint of heart. I confess this was a task I dared not engage in for years. Why? In one word: fear. I was afraid I would lose my bearings, my sanity, my identity, my community, the respect of my loved ones, my very purpose of being. On top of that, of course, there was the fear of eternal damnation. That small nagging feeling that even if there was a 1% chance of being true, that was enough not to risk it. Forget it, there was much to lose, too many uncertainties on the other side and after all — things were not that bad on this side. At least, so I thought.
I wasn’t like I woke up one day and said: “Now I am ready to deconstruct my faith!” Like for many that underwent this process, it was a combination of events, disappointments, and irreconcilable situations that thrust us into the tempestuous sea of doubt. For some, it was the death of a loved one. To me, it was the death of a dream. Yes, in every story of faith deconstruction, there is death involved.
This is the way.
I have written before about my pain and disappointment. Suffice it to say that at every turn doors closed and it became painfully clear that my vocational path would lead elsewhere. It wasn’t just about vocation but also about identity, meaning, and deep disappointment with Chrisitians’ attitude in the public square. Yes, you guessed it: Trump, treatment of LGBTQ, authoritarianism, and other unfortunate events.
Revisiting Old Certainties
If I was going to move further, I had to let go of some convictions. Like screws in an engine, they must first loosen up before we fix anything. One key conviction was my view of the Bible. In my childhood faith, the Bible was the ultimate authority and source of all truth. It was never to be questioned only to be submitted to. While this may have saved my European ancestors from Papal oppression, it has now become the foundation for dogmatic thinking and stifling perspectives. Re-visiting my view of the Bible was a key step in the journey of faith deconstruction.
The change went deeper than that. It meant letting go of certainty and inviting doubtful faith. My childhood faith taught me the blessed assurance was beyond doubt. Letting go of this perceived security was a hard thing to do. It begged the following: if the Bible is no longer the source of ultimate authority, then what is?
For years I had no answer to this question which was why I also stood paralyzed in this conundrum. On the one hand, I knew that placing this amount of faith in the letter of the Bible was no longer viable. On the other, I did not see any alternative that could adequately replace it.
Leaping into Untethered Faith
Would my experience now be the arbiter of truth? I am not that smart or spiritually enlightened. That, I knew for sure so it had to be elsewhere. Would science be the new source of authority? It was also a problematic choice given the evolving nature of scientific inquiry. What we know now can really change in the next discovery. What then?
It was then that instead of trying to answer the question, that I encountered a new question: What if there is no absolute authority to hang my belief in? What if I will never really know for sure? The implications were terrifying but also surprisingly freeing.
Even so, they did not require a simple change of perspective. Instead, they call for a leap of faith. It was more like a jump into untethered belief. A certainty that even though I could not articulate an ultimate authority for my faith, that faith was real nevertheless. Not just that, but there was a trust that there was higher power on the other side to catch me. This is not a rejection of God but an acceptance that God is much more we can describe or experience.
The place of encounter is where God lives – no other assurances are needed.
