This article is the second in a series exploring deconstruction. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments I would love to hear about your experiences with deconstruction and the church.
Unlearning Religion: Letting Go to Move Forward
For many of us, religion once felt more like an obligation than a journey of faith. We were taught what to believe, how to behave, and—more importantly—what was required of us to be good in God’s eyes.
But what if that version of religion is more about control than connection?
What if the structures, the systems, and even the rituals weren’t leading us toward faith, but toward conformity?
Unlearning religion means shaking off the weight of obligation, guilt, and performative spirituality. It means stepping outside of the box and daring to ask: Is this really what God wanted for us?
If faith is real—if it is truly a personal, intimate, and life-giving relationship with the creator of the universe—then it cannot be dictated by someone else’s list of rules, right?
Jesus himself challenged this and pushed back on the religious establishment of his day. He called out the Pharisees for their legalism (Matthew 23:13-36). He overturned tables in the temple (John 2:13-17). He rebuked those who valued tradition over love (Mark 7:6-9). If we are to follow Jesus, then we, too, must be willing to unlearn what was given to us when it no longer aligns with love, grace, and truth.
Reclaiming Faith: Trusting God Instead of Systems
When we let go of religion, we don’t lose faith—we reclaim it.
This is where the real power of deconstruction lies. It leads us into a faith that is untamed, unpredictable, and fully reliant on God rather than institutions, tradition, and doctrine. Now, don’t get me wrong—structure, tradition, and doctrine have their place. But they should be built to support our personal, untamed, and unpredictable life with God, instead of replacing it.
The Celts understood this. They saw faith as an adventure, not a rigid set of rules. They referred to the Holy Spirit as a Wild Goose—untamed, free, and always on the move—transforming the phrase wild goose chase from a futile pursuit into a sacred journey.
Faith, when unshackled from obligation, becomes something truly radical. It calls us to trust God to provide instead of relying on religious transactions (Matthew 6:26-34). It challenges us to go where God sends us, even when it’s uncomfortable (Acts 8:26-40). It reminds us to extend love beyond the walls of the church, just as Jesus did (Luke 15:1-7). And it inspires us to live with open hands, giving because we are compelled by love, not pressured by obligation (2 Corinthians 9:7).
This kind of faith is wild and free, and it forces us to depend on God in a way that structured religion often does not. It demands risk. It demands real trust. And the more we lean into that trust, the more we experience God personally—not because someone told us to, but because we have seen Him move.
Why the Church Is Scared of Your Freedom
If we no longer feel required to attend church, to give financially, or to serve in a particular way, the institution fears we will simply walk away. They fear that without obligation, we won’t come. Without pressure, we won’t give. Without structure, we will fall apart.
But what does that reveal about their faith? If they truly believed that faith and community were valuable, then they wouldn’t need to be forced. They would trust that we, as seekers of truth, would return—not out of guilt, but out of desire. The fear of deconstruction within the church isn’t really about our faith—it’s about theirs.
This fear drives some churches to maintain control by suggesting that questioning leads to backsliding. They belittle and shame those who even entertain the thought of stepping away. Doubt is often characterized as dangerous rather than a necessary and healthy journey through faith. Certainty is celebrated, and curiosity is shunned.
But Jesus never did any of those things. Jesus went to the people, loved them where they were, and never manipulated them into belief. He didn’t build buildings and require people to come—he met them in their daily lives. He healed, he listened, and he showed them love. Not to get them to “say a prayer,” but simply because loving people was his mission.
The Power of Community: Do We Still Need Each Other?
When I went through my own deconstruction(s), I initially believed that community was part of the problem. The hypocrisy, the brokenness, and the dysfunction felt like barriers to my own growth as a Christian and as a human. If I left, I thought, I could grow my faith in isolation and continue down the path of true intimacy with God, devoid of all of those obstacles.
But I learned something essential: faith was never meant to be walked alone. We need to journey with others to truly maximize and grow into what God is calling us into.
Yes, there are broken communities, toxic churches, and even manipulative leadership. But the right community—the one centered on love, grace, and seeking truth—will help us find answers that are more durable and more meaningful than we could find on our own.
It is in the living of life with others—discussing, learning, and serving together—that we build faith beyond what we can ever perceive alone. A faith that is deep, a faith that is wide, and a belief system that is incredibly strong.
Ironically, when faith is freed from obligation, the desire to serve, to give, and to be present in community only grows. Because when we stop giving out of pressure, we start giving out of passion. And when we stop serving out of duty, we start serving out of love.
Faith, Recovery, and Shedding the Weights That Hold Us Back
Deconstruction isn’t destruction. It is, by all practical accounts, a form of recovery. It is the shedding of the things that weighed us down so that we can be lifted into something greater. Like recovery from addiction, deconstruction is about shedding what is suffocating us—reclaiming joy, peace, and purpose—so that we can finally experience faith as it was meant to be: untamed and fully alive.
Jesus never called us to cling to comfort, control, or routine. Instead, he invited us into a life of radical faith, radical trust, and radical love—one that thrives on uncertainty and deepens through experience. While many churches fear this kind of journey, we don’t have to. Because on the other side of deconstruction, we don’t find emptiness—we find freedom, renewal, and a faith that is truly alive.
Next Up: How to Rebuild Faith After Deconstruction
In the next article, we’ll explore what happens after deconstruction—how to move forward with a faith that is both deep and authentic, without falling back into the same rigid structures that once held us captive. Stay tuned.