When Faith Feels Like a Lie
Why Questioning Everything Might Be the Start of Real Faith
This article is the first 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.
The Fear of Questioning
What if everything you believed was wrong? Would you even want to know?
The idea is unsettling because belief is more than just accepting something—it’s the foundation we build our lives on. And if that foundation shakes, what happens to everything resting on it?
It’s a dangerous proposition because deep down, we don’t just want to believe—we want to be right. We want to know that our foundation is unshakable and that the things we’ve built our lives on won’t break beneath us.
But faith isn’t about being right. Faith is about trusting in something for which there is no proof. It is about stepping into the unknown.
The moment we stop questioning, testing, pushing, and validating our faith, we stop growing in it. And yet, the fear of that moment, the fear of what we may uncover, feels as if everything we once held firm suddenly might come crashing down.
That tension—the fear of unraveling everything—keeps people stuck. It keeps people paralyzed and unwilling to inch forward. But what if the unraveling isn’t the problem? What if it is precisely the way we grow?
The Illusion of Certainty
Faith, by its very definition, requires uncertainty. If you’re 100% sure of something, you don’t need faith—you ‘know.’
Yet, despite faith’s reliance on the unknown, many churches present certainty as a requirement rather than a roadblock. They treat doubt as a flaw rather than a step toward deeper faith. The unspoken rule in those churches? Genuine faith doesn’t waver. It doesn’t doubt. It doesn’t ask questions.
But that doesn’t foster faith—it manufactures compliance. (More on that in the following article.)
Abraham argued with God. Job demanded answers. Peter walked away in denial. Even Jesus, in his darkest moment, cried out: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” If the very people we call heroes of faith wrestled with doubt, why are we told that faith means locking down answers and never questioning them?
Because control is easier than trust, and certainty is easier than surrender.
The Problem with Untested Faith
The real question isn’t whether our faith will ever face doubts. It’s whether our faiths will survive it.
A faith that never asks hard questions isn’t faith—it’s programming. It’s not built from individual experiences and first-hand accounts; it is homogenized and regurgitated to the masses in prepackaged, unchallenged doctrines that require no thought, no engagement, and no wrestling.
The programmed then often mistake their indoctrination for conviction. They never learn to stand on their own or how to get up when the ground beneath them shakes, and the walls tremble. Sadly, they walk away entirely when confronted with hard truths that don’t align with their untested framing of religion or, worse, the world.
Those moments where it all seems to fall apart are disguised as dead ends in the road where the only way forward is to burn it all to the ground. And this is where so many churches, organizations, and even countries get it so wrong: those moments aren’t times to destroy it all or walk away; they are times to test, challenge, and ultimately deconstruct the foundations of belief into the core elements that it was built on in the first place.
Deconstruction isn’t about destruction.
It’s about analysis, improvement, and refinement. It’s about reworking what was weak and building on what was strong. Like gold tested in fire, the elements worth keeping will withstand the heat, and the rest will fall to the ground. But being willing to deconstruct your faith means being willing to ask yourself and others the hard questions.
What Happens When You Ask?
Here’s the hard truth that keeps so many of us from stepping into the crucible of change: questioning your faith can be lonely. It’s often terrifying, and there is no sure thing on the other side. Many who start questioning feel like they are stepping off solid ground into an abyss. They fear rejection from their community, even as they struggle with the dissonance between their lived experience and the beliefs they’ve been handed.
I have even wondered if I was the only one struggling with the things no one else seems to discuss. I even lost my sense of belonging as I embraced the fact that the version of God I had been given wasn’t big enough, kind enough, or loving enough to hold the weight of the reality I was living in.
That was the assumed and sometimes perceived price of asking. But it wasn’t the whole picture. There is a payoff, a reward:
Faith that has been through fire is infinitely stronger than faith that never left the box, and a community built around that is even stronger yet again.
The paradox of questioning is that it doesn’t lead to the end of faith—it instead leads to increasing the depth, width, and breadth of faith. The more we wrestle, the more real it becomes. The more we ask, the more we understand that faith isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about learning to live in the tension and surrendering control.
Faith That Survives the Fire
So, here’s the real question: if your faith crumbles under the weight of questions, was it faith—or just certainty masquerading as belief?
The people who hold onto certainty, like their lives depend on it, are usually the first to lose their footing when life hits them in ways they never expected. However, those who are willing to ask and walk through the discomfort of deconstruction are the ones who find something more profound. Something real. Something that supports who they truly are, not just who others told them to be.
If that’s you, if you’re wrestling, if you’re tired of pretending you have it all figured out, or realizing the status quo just doesn’t fit anymore—keep going, keep pushing, keep questioning. Question everything. Because this isn’t the end of your faith. It’s the beginning of a faith expression that is richer, bolder, and more authentic than you ever imagined.
This article is the first in a series exploring deconstruction. Let me know your thoughts in the comments.
I am a visual artist, a writer, and a storyteller working to navigate my way through faith, life, parenthood, and even marriage by aligning the stories I have lived with the choices in front of me. For more articles on life, faith, spirituality, and the goofy stuff that makes us human make sure and follow my Substack.
Next up: The Faith They Gave You vs. The Faith You Need: Unlearning Religion to Reclaim Your Belief
Powerful questions, Scott! I look forward to reading more in this series.