I am sure that if you have had the courage to explore the why’s of Christianity with somebody you trust or expressed puzzlement or even, heaven forbid, DOUBT about any of the cherished doctrines of the Western Church, you have been told, “Deconstruction is dangerous.” Having experienced some level of deconstruction continuously, and practically from the moment I realized I loved Jesus, I agree wholeheartedly with that statement.

I grew up in a home where it was acceptable to question why the sky was blue, where butterflies went when it rained, how a clock worked. There were a number of clocks and other mechanical devices that succumbed to my deconstruction of them in my efforts to understand. It was not, however, acceptable to question the Word of God as interpreted by my parents, my teachers, my pastor, “The Church.” Because I was a generally compliant child (the surest way to be loved was to perform, after all), I quickly learned to keep my uncomfortable questions to myself. Internalizing my questions, I learned to trust my own intellect. Dangerous.

I was a voracious reader and by the time I reached my teens I had so many more questions – usually unanswered and at odds with what I had been taught. Often at odds with what I truly believed. Guilt and shame for my questions and doubt constantly tore at me in the absence of a Gentle Guide to come alongside because by this time I didn’t trust Him either. What I had been taught to believe about Him had failed so often. Dangerous.

My first exposure to a community of sorts, outside of the belief system by which I had been bound since childhood, was in a job I began just before I turned twenty-five. The primary voices in this community were an avowed atheist, an unwed mother, a homosexual, a libertine, and a Christian with very different ideas from those I had been brought up with. Although I debated vigorously (and I am sure self-righteously), maddeningly I often found I was arguing with myself. Yes, each of these, perhaps, unlikely people were instrumental in my continued deconstruction. The atheist was a good man who, because of his character, challenged my very belief in God. The unwed mother who, in spite of my self-righteousness, responded to something outside her belief system and decided to have her baby, allowed me my first baby steps in actually accepting ideas outside the box. The homosexual who patiently answered questions and strengthened my belief about some things while completely tearing down others helped me begin the journey to understanding that we are all broken. The libertine in whose self-indulgence I began to see a tiny glimmer of my own self-focus cracked open the door for me to begin to examine some of my own brokenness. The Christian at least provided a touchstone for me during a very unsettling portion of my journey. Dangerous.

I could go on. Telling God at some point, “I know you’re real, but you ask too much. Just leave me alone.” Running back to Him when the pain became too great. More questions. A failed marriage. Recommitting. Always the questions. A new, wonderful wife with two boys all three of whom I love dearly to this day. Disillusionment with relationships both personal and within the Church. Broken relationship with my two other kids because I had become so broken. More failure of my belief system blamed on God. Wounding by a church body. By this time I was dealing with so much anger it was adversely affecting all my relationships. Deconstructed. Dangerous.

There is no doubt deconstruction is dangerous. It is walking the precipice between deep, heart-rending, trust and falling into a chasm of darkness from which you may not return. But I am reminded of this passage from C.S. Lewis’s The Lion The Witch and the Wardrobe:

Deconstruction is not safe, but it can be good because He is good and faithful and because He loves us so fiercely.

Paul encouraged the Philippians, “…work out you own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to do of His good pleasure.” I have spent most of my life working out my own salvation because I didn’t have a safe place to question and had learned to distrust God so early. But God, through significant deconstruction, is bringing about “His good pleasure” in my life. As I have chosen to trust Him, He has brought me a level of peace in my questioning that I don’t even have the words to express. I still have a long way to go. It’s a long, long road from broken to beautiful, but I’m running the race and wondering all the way.

So, yes, deconstruction is dangerous, but let me leave you with this thought. If you will be courageous and persistent and, above all, trusting through your deconstruction, I promise you: He.will.be.faithful. Crafty belief systems that look nothing like Jesus will be deconstructed. Self-righteousness will be deconstructed. Pride will be deconstructed. Selfishness will be deconstructed. Disunity will be deconstructed. Covetousness will be deconstructed. And as the new edifice of you is built on the Chief Cornerstone (as my wife just reminded me), you will be, as He intended from the creation, His image-bearer. Dangerous.