Deconstruction is not a trend

My Long, Unwanted Journey of Faith

I remember how deeply uncomfortable I was - but it wasn’t because of the familiar red retractable seat I was on or even how cold the room felt. It was always cold in that place, thanks to the centralised air conditioning that no one could do anything about. It had already been a few hours since it started, but it wasn’t boredom or hunger either. 

“…the curse of homosexuality.”

I thought to myself, that doesn’t sound right, and it’s definitely not sitting well with me. I’d always known that being gay was a blatant sin in the eyes of God — or at least, that’s what I grew up hearing in church. Laws and bills to help trans rights, same-sex marriage—these were labeled as “satanic bills,”, or at least that’s what all the pastors say. All throughout my 30 years of Christian life as a pastor’s kid, for as long as I can remember, I never once questioned God or the Bible. I had heard those kinds of sermons before. But for some reason, at that moment, something shifted. Something about hearing those words at that moment sparked a confusion in me.

“Why does this sermon sound so…hateful?”

It contradicted everything I had been told Christianity was about — love, compassion, kindness. Little did I know, that spark of discomfort and confusion was only the beginning of a long, difficult journey that’s still unraveling in my life.

Because the Bible Says So

Growing up in the church meant I was often just going through the motions, at least in my earlier years. There were times I didn’t fully understand something but because “the Bible says so”, I wasn’t supposed to question it, even though in my head I already was. And that became the cycle. I’d encounter a complex issue or concept, and despite having doubts or internal protests, I’d comply. Reading other books or researching other arguments simply didn’t occur to me. It was never my natural response. I would wrestle with things in my head but would always arrive at the same conclusion: I must be wrong. Defying what I was taught meant stepping out of God’s will, and bad things happen when you step out of God’s will. Therefore, I am wrong. And it didn’t help that I am ‘that’ pastor’s kid - one of those rebellious ones. Though looking back, I don’t think I was rebellious enough.

Despite all the rough patches, all the doubts and yes, the defiance, my faith still meant the world to me. The church wasn’t just a place I went; it was my whole life. Maybe it’s just my victim mentality talking, but the teachings of Jesus — about love, grace, acceptance — those things comforted my soul like nothing else ever could.

I wanted to believe. I wanted to be all in.

And for a long time, I was.

I felt a deep sense of purpose and drive when it came to serving in the ministry. The songs I sang during worship,  the prayers I prayed — they all came from a place of genuine faith and belief that God is real and He is good and His words are true.

Nobody Wants This

I do cringe at the mention of the term “deconstruction”. In Christian circles — especially evangelical ones — it’s basically the process of questioning and re-evaluating your faith. I think that is the simplest way to put it. But today, it has become a so-called phenomenon, a buzzword. Some would even go as far as to call it a trend.  In my opinion, it’s anything but. Nobody wakes up one morning and thinks, “You know what? Today feels like a great day to dismantle my entire belief system and rethink everything I’ve ever known about God.” I understand why some people within the Christian community would sneer at people who choose this path, or even call it a sin, but I believe it’s absolutely foolish to call it a trend. 

I look back and see segments, partial memories of confusion, doubt, and disappointment. I could never pinpoint the deconstruction process to just one specific event or interaction. It was always a combination of experiences that compounded over time. Most of the pain points, at least for me, aligned with major societal issues. The most obvious one was how the church viewed homosexuality.

Ask any Christian, and they’ll likely tell you that the Bible states homosexuality is a sin. Obviously, some will argue it’s more nuanced than that. But the age-old argument to wrap this message in a more palatable way was always: we hate the sin, but not the sinner. Even I used that phrase so many times to defend this stance. 

But in my process of trying to understand the Bible, I came across something Dr. Michael Heiser, a bible scholar and theologian, said: 

“The Bible was written for us, not to us.”

Modern evangelical Christians rarely pause to consider the historical context of Scripture. We forget to take into account that the Bible is a collection of stories, written by different people, at a completely different point in time.

Tim Keller, a Presbyterian preacher and theologian had some observations on this:

“If you say to everybody, ‘Anyone who thinks homosexuality is a sin is a bigot, you’re going to have to ask them to completely disassemble the way in which they read the Bible, completely disassemble their whole approach to authority. You’re basically going to have to ask them to completely kick their faith out the door.”

Maybe, the only way to make sense of our faith is to wrestle with it. I decided, if I was going to take the Bible seriously, I will do so in its entirety — contradictions, imperfections and all.

Deconstruction doesn’t have to be destruction.

Suddenly, I found myself doing things I was never used to doing:

Trying to understand the Bible on my own terms.

The Algorithm is Fucked

At some point, I realised my whole Christian life wasn’t too different from a social media algorithm. The posts and the reels you find yourself frequently viewing, eventually dictates the kind of content that ends up in your feed.

In the past, whenever I felt like I needed to understand a certain passage more, I’d do my ‘research’ by diving into the curated pool of content that is already fixed for me to discover. That means, reading interpretations from preachers on my dad’s bookshelf. It’s listening to sermons from evangelical churches that pretty much interpret the passage the same way, just with a different flavour. I never gave myself a chance to pick resources from a different pool. Honestly, there’s nothing wrong with surrounding yourself with voices that align with your values. But I do think it’s crucial to ask questions. To seek out credible perspectives beyond the ones handed to you. After all, The Bereans in Acts 17:11 gave us the blueprint for that:

"And the people of Berea were more open-minded than those in Thessalonica, and they listened eagerly to Paul’s message. They searched the Scriptures day after day to see if Paul and Silas were teaching the truth.“ (NLT)

If they questioned Paul — the guy who literally wrote half the New Testament — why can’t we do the same with our modern-day preachers?

Romans 1:26–27 has been wielded like a gavel against the LGBTQ+ community — case closed, no further questions. But does the standard interpretation that we always hear truly capture Paul’s intent, or have we been filtering his words through tainted modern biases rather than viewing them in their actual cultural context? The term “homosexual” is not even found in the Bible in translations written prior to 1948, which suggests it was included as a result of translators' own prejudices.

When Paul wrote to the Romans, he was speaking into a world where sexual norms were anchored in power, dominance, and sometimes exploitation. Temple prostitution was common — sometimes involving enslaved individuals forced into ritual sex acts. And in the rigid social hierarchy of that era, any man who wasn’t in a dominant position was branded “unnatural,” not because of his orientation, but because he was stepping outside the power structures of the world that time. I don’t think Paul was condemning loving, homosexual relationships (like the ones that we have now) — I think he was calling out the dehumanising practices of his day. One chapter later, he addresses those who would judge by pointing them back at their own faults (Romans 2:1–4). Basically, if you’re using Romans 1 to condemn others, you’re missing the heart of his message. He was actually laying the groundwork for grace, humility, and a faith that opens its doors to anyone who’s been told they don’t belong. In his time, that meant the Gentiles, who were the “outsiders.” Today, maybe it’s the LGBTQ+ community finding themselves in that same position. When we stop to consider the actual environment Paul was writing to, we see that this isn’t a passage about shutting people out. It’s a call to grace, a call to go beyond legalistic interpretations towards an infinitely wider love — precisely what churches claim to value. I think it’s tragic that, for decades, many churches have chosen to read Romans 1 in a way that excludes an entire group of people, failing to consider both the historical and cultural contexts of Paul’s words.

It wasn’t easy, slowly letting it become obvious to friends and family that I was distancing myself from the church. It wasn’t easy seeing the microexpressions on their faces during our conversations when they realised I sounded different from how I used to. I was certainly scared of potential clashes with loved ones who are still in the church, knowing it would open doors to discussions I wasn’t ready to have and questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. My parents and I live in different countries, but that didn’t stop us from having a few arguments after I revealed my decision to stop going to church. I do acknowledge how hard it was for them to accept the fact that I’ve chosen a different path — one they don’t understand. But, just as they stood by my side when I got pregnant out of wedlock and later got divorced, they slowly accepted that, at the end of the day, I make my own decisions, and no disagreement or conflict is worth sacrificing our relationship as a family. Whether it’s silent resignation to my rebellious nature or genuine acceptance of my chosen path, I’ve seen that the way my parents handled our many disagreements is actually a testament to true Christianity. There are still many things about the Bible and the church that we strongly disagree on, and we may never see eye-to-eye on some matters again, but when you peel back the layers of rules and expectations, you truly get a chance to see what matters most.

No, deconstruction is not just about people deciding it’s okay to be gay or starting to vote differently. Deconstruction isn’t merely disagreeing with your pastor about societal issues or refusing to tithe anymore. Deconstruction isn’t throwing a tantrum. It’s an ugly, unwanted process that forces a person to come face-to-face with what they used to believe, who they used to be, and the things they once thought were important. Religion is powerful because it deals with what matters most to people—their beliefs, dreams, how they raise their kids, how they treat their spouses, who they vote for, who they love, their finances, their future. But religion isn’t faith. It’s when you start deconstructing religion and rules that you begin to understand what faith truly is.

As I continue to reckon with my faith and what that really looks like, reading and exposing myself to diverse, credible resources from people who have actually studied the Bible — whether they’re part of a church or not — constantly helps. With that, I’m going to quote Pete Enns again, only because this particular one had me bawling at work during my lunch break:

“Your period of doubt has value — to move you further on in the journey, even when you feel like you’ve left the path altogether.

Doubt gets you moving.

When your faith has no room for doubt, then you are just left with — religion, something that takes its place in your life among other things — like a job and a hobby, something soft and comfortable.

Doubt is God’s way of helping you not go there.”

Sources:

ttps://thebiblefornormalpeople.com/tim-keller-on-homosexuality/

https://www.sthugh.net/lgbtq-affirming-scripture

https://www.hrc.org/resources/what-does-the-bible-say-about-homosexuality

https://thebiblefornormalpeople.com/aha-moments-biblical-scholars-tell-their-stories-9-anthony-le-donne/

https://thebiblefornormalpeople.com/why-its-good-to-doubt-god/