What About This “Deconstruction” Thing?
If you consider yourself part of the faith community, chances are you’ve come across the concept of “deconstruction.” In fact, for the last several years, it has been steadily arising within the Christian community—to the point where one doesn’t have to look very hard to find it.
The Christian research organization The Barna Group conducted a study in 2023 showing that, “Overall, 42 percent of adults say they have deconstructed the faith of their youth. Of today’s Christians, it’s 37 percent, with little difference whether they’re practicing (36%) or nonpracticing (37%) Christians. That means more than one-third of committed, churchgoing Christians relate to the idea of having deconstructed the faith of their youth.”
But if you’re like me, you may be asking: What exactly is deconstruction? Where did it come from? Is it just a popular buzzword that’ll eventually leave as quickly as it came?
First of all, even though it seems to be a fairly new concept, the term deconstruction has been around for quite a while. As The Barna Group acknowledges, “…faith deconstruction is not a new concept in itself, even though it has more recently become a greater concern for the Church as the term has become mainstreamed.”
First coined by the late French philosopher Jacques Derrida (1930–2004), the term actually derived from the work of the late German philosopher Martin Heidegger (1889–1976), who referred to a process of exploring the categories and concepts that tradition has imposed on a word, along with the history behind them. From there, it began to be identified with critique and analysis in textual reading and study. Merriam-Webster defines deconstruction as “the analytic examination of something (such as a theory) often in order to reveal its inadequacy.”
When we look at the original concept of deconstruction—as exploring the categories and concepts that tradition has imposed on a word, along with the history behind them—we soon realize it’s not just something to be applied to faith, theology, or doctrine. It exists in every facet of life. For this reason, deconstruction is an integral and important part of not only faith, but life itself.
Just think about the way we are constantly evolving in technology, medicine, art, and diet, just to name a few. Continual growth requires that we honestly analyze and critique how things are going. This is why most successful companies have research and development departments; they know that a large part of staying fresh is testing their current products—all in hopes of moving toward greater innovation. However, this requires that they remain open and willing to test what they’ve previously known.
Please note: My intention for this blog is to point out the positive aspects of deconstruction (and reconstruction)—simply because the concept, for many justifiable reasons, has gotten a bad rap. I mean, just think about it: the prefix de- itself carries a negative connotation (depress, denounce, depart, etc.).
However, my intention is not to defend deconstruction for the sake of preserving some new “fad” (as some have labeled the “deconstruction movement”), but to highlight the importance of being open and willing to test what we’ve always known to be true about God, the world, and ourselves.
This is why I say:
Deconstruction is just a word, but the concept it’s attempting to communicate—well, that’s an ancient one.
For those who have struggled or are currently struggling to process this thing called deconstruction, please know that I will do my best to approach it with humility and gentleness. However, I believe it needs to be addressed. Aside from the fact that I’ve had several friends and family members ask my thoughts on it (which extend far beyond this single blog), I also know this generation is asking serious questions and searching for serious answers.
Quite simply, deconstruction is happening right before our very eyes! And I believe we need to be aware and open to such questions. Otherwise, we run the risk of becoming just another group of people who shut their eyes and ears to the growing reality of wrestling with inherited ideas, much like the Pharisees of Jesus’ day.
For the sake of remaining positive and in line with biblical language, I’ll be using the terms “uprooting and planting”interchangeably with deconstruction and reconstruction as we move forward. Feel free to use whatever term(s) help you identify with the concept of honest and faithful critique.
JESUS DECONSTRUCTS AND RECONSTRUCTS
When I think of deconstruction, at least in a biblical sense, I can’t help but think of Jesus. When I imagine the value of critique and analysis concerning the things we believe to be true about God, I reflect on the ministry of the Jewish man from Nazareth.
In fact, I don’t think we can even bring up the concept of deconstruction without mentioning the One in whom all things exist. You see, all throughout the ministry of the Son of Man, we find instances where, time and time again, Jesus challenged preconceived notions. You could say he was deconstructing old mindsets and reconstructing new ones. Allow me to list just a few:
“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery’; but I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.”
—Matthew 5:27–28 (NASB)
And again in verses 31 and 32:
“It was said, ‘Whoever sends his wife away, let him give her a certificate of divorce’; but I say to you that everyone who divorces his wife, except for the reason of unchastity, makes her commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.”
Oh yeah, there’s more in verses 38 and 39:
“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also.”
Do you see how Jesus pushed the envelope of preconceived notions? Do you see how, in his zeal to realign the human heart with the way of Love (the Father), he contrasted what the people had been taught (“You have heard that it was said”) with what was actually true (“but I say”)?
In fact, if you go on to read all of Matthew 5 (or the entire Sermon on the Mount, for that matter), you will find many more instances where Christ is adjusting, critiquing, and analyzing what they’d been taught and, for many, had grown up believing. I encourage you to look into other passages where Jesus and the early apostles challenged the way we perceive God, ourselves, and others. I don’t think you’ll be hard-pressed to find them.
And what about this one? It’s my favorite, and it seems to speak to the heart of what we call deconstruction and reconstruction:
“So the Jews said to him, ‘What sign do you show us for doing these things?’ Jesus answered them, ‘Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.’ The Jews then said, ‘It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will you raise it up in three days?’ But he was speaking about the temple of his body.”
—John 2:18–21 (ESV)
In light of these aforementioned passages (and I could list many others), I’m convinced that Jesus sought to deconstruct and reconstruct our vision of God. In other words, it’s quite clear that, time and time again, he had to adjust his listeners’ concepts and ideologies according to what he was revealing about the One he called “Abba.”
You could say that he was out to uproot and plant a transforming vision of his Father.
UPROOTING AND PLANTING
When I think of the concept of uprooting and planting, I’m reminded of the prophet Jeremiah, whose ministry was to uproot and to plant—challenging the status quo while also introducing fresh concepts according to the heart and mind of the Father.
For example, in chapter 19, Jeremiah challenges the notion that God ever wanted child sacrifice, saying, you “…have built the high places of Baal to burn their sons in the fire as burnt offerings to Baal, a thing which I never commanded or spoke of, nor did it ever enter My mind.” We see this sort of critique all throughout his ministry.
However, as we move into the Gospels, we see that Jesus somehow exemplifies the ministry of Jeremiah. Perhaps this explains why the people thought he was Jeremiah reincarnated (see Matthew 16:14). However, I would go on to say that Christ is the greater Jeremiah (he’s actually greater than any good, iconic Old Testament figure).
Christ is the great Apostle and Prophet who uproots and plants, and instructs us in the way of both.
When one understands the prophetic gifting and office, it’s clear to see that it focuses on uprooting. This is why many of the prophets in Scripture were often calling out sin and wrong paradigms—confronting what hindered the people from walking in the ways and wisdom of God.
On the other hand, when I think of the apostolic, I most definitely think of planting. It was the apostle Paul who planted seeds of the gospel throughout much of the known world. He also planted churches and communities that functioned as heralds of the good news.
For these reasons, we see that the prophetic represents uprooting and the apostolic represents planting. Both are vital to the growth of the house, which explains why you can’t have a whole house without the prophetic and the apostolic—for they work in tandem to equip the body to walk in the fullness of Christ (Ephesians 4:11–13). They are crucial to our growth and development.
And here’s the good news: The mandate of uprooting and planting doesn’t revolve around our own charisma and gifting—it revolves around Christ.
Jesus Christ is the great Apostle and Prophet—the fullness of all gifts and callings—who now lives within us.
Therefore, he is continually working in us to bring us into the fullness of the Father’s promises and purposes. This means he must uproot and plant.
THE WORK OF WHOLENESS
To me, nothing speaks to the value of uprooting and planting (deconstruction and reconstruction) more than this: The Father desires that each of us experience and manifest wholeness in our lives.
In fact, I think the reason deconstruction and reconstruction happen to many believers is because the Father desires to shape and mold our image of him and ourselves into something more and more beautiful. He desires that each of us step into a knowing—of the Father and ourselves—that far exceeds our own understanding and preconceived ideas (see Proverbs 3:5).
Quite frankly, he longs to let us in on what he knows to be true about us!
For this reason, the process of uprooting and planting could also be looked at as the Father’s way of pruning—where our faithful Gardener prunes old branches (mindsets and paradigms) in order to produce greater fruit. In this sense, pruning isn’t a way of communicating that the old branches are useless, but that they must give way for new ones to bud forth and blossom.
You see, the work of manifest wholeness is where Abba, by his Spirit, uproots (or prunes) toxic mindsets concerning who he is and who we are. It’s where he arises within our hearts and minds to challenge the ways in which we think and perceive him.
However, he doesn’t stop there, nor does he leave the branches merely pruned. As the good Gardener who longs for us to produce greater and greater fruit, he goes on to plant in us his mind—one that is capable of receiving the higher truth of who he is and who we are as fully loved and embraced in the Father.
As we take on his faith—what he sees and knows—we are transformed. At this point, we begin displaying the reality of “As He is, so are we in this world.”
In Psalm 24, David said, “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof.” Although I know David is speaking of the physical earth as belonging to God, I also believe there’s a deeper truth: We are his earth; we are his garden, the place of his dwelling. And though we often forget, we belong to the Father (see Deuteronomy 32:18 KJV).
For this reason, the Father, by his Spirit, moves to unveil himself to and through us. We often forget who formed us—who dances and rejoices over us in delight. But I have good news: the Potter hasn’t lost touch.
We are spinning on the Father’s wheel, and we are in his care. For this reason, I tend to think that the Potter’s wheel is as much about the spin as it is about his care. Perhaps seeing and experiencing the spin—how he dances and rejoices over us—is what awakens our hearts to the knowledge of God: what Father, Son, and Spirit know and see to be true.
Therefore, the work of manifest wholeness is accomplished through uprooting and planting. Personally, I’ve been experiencing this over the last several years, as the Father has been uprooting toxic mindsets that produced fear, timidity, and shame-filled retreat. However, the planting that soon followed is where he, by way of meeting me where I am, has been filling that space with a healthy, life-giving perspective of his nature.
This is giving me permission and freedom to be who I was created to be.
A PLANTING FOLLOWS
When the Father, by his Spirit, begins to uproot wrong ideas concerning his nature, we must allow and expect a plantingto follow. If not, our condition, as Jesus states, becomes worse than before (see Matthew 12:43–45).
If we try to plant on anything other than the truth of what Christ sees and knows, the house falls—simply because it’s not established on the Rock. For this reason, we don’t have to choose which aspect of the process to embrace; we can experience both uprooting and planting (or “deconstruction and reconstruction,” if you so choose).
Jesus illustrates this concept in Matthew 12:
“When a demon is cast out of a person, it roams around a dry region, looking for a place to rest, but never finds it. Then it says, ‘I’ll return to the house I moved out of,’ and so it goes back, only to find that the house is vacant, warm, and ready for it to move back in. So it goes looking for seven other demons more evil than itself, and they all enter together to live there. Then the person’s condition becomes much worse than it was in the beginning. This describes what will also happen to the people of this evil generation.”
—Matthew 12:43–45 (TPT)
