Sometimes, I wonder if we’re all deconstructing something.
Faith, life, work, culture, community, technology, mental health, well-being… it’s all being taken apart. We sit there with a plate, knife, a couple slices of bread, a dollop of jelly and peanut butter knowing there’s a PB&J there somewhere.
Often, we find ourselves staring at the plate not knowing where to begin, or even if we like PB&J in the first place. What about banana instead of jelly? Almond butter over peanut butter? Wheat or white bread? As one option comes to mind it ping pongs into another possibility which creates an avalanche of options.
Instead of just putting together a sandwich like everyone expects, we stare, lost in thought, looking for that first piece of the puzzle, that first option or step to define what comes next.
And, that’s a good thing for the most part. I think.
It feels right for this time and place in history. Deconstructing, taking apart and examining the pieces of a system before putting it back together anew seems like the work of this age. Once we’ve got everything on the table we can simplify the system, eschewing those parts that no longer work or are worn.
The work is tedious but offers freedom in moment of reassembly. It’s terrible and terrific work all wrapped into one package. I imagine once we’ve tasted the freedom of it, it’s hard to go back to the way things were.
Which makes deconstruction a threat. When people depend on traditional systems for their power, any glimpse of freedom from another makes them afraid.
This is especially true when your experience of power is through the lens of a zero-sum game. That is, power comes in the form of a pie chart, it’s limited and confined. If you have power, then that leaves less for me.
It’s interesting to me how much of religious thinking, preaching, and practice is bound up in this idea. The notion that there is a limited amount of power, love, forgiveness, grace, hope, and so on seems baked into the systems we perpetuate. It speaks to a great cosmic scale, the ultimate in or out, a primary system of binaries.
Saved or not.
Forgiven or not.
Christian or not.
It’s a crap way of thinking about the world and its myriad complexities. It’s limiting, unless you’re the one holding the power. And, in systems like these, very few actually hold power.
So yeah, the fear of deconstruction is something folx of a certain ilk find threatening. And, they’re rightfully afraid (in their own minds at least, there’s really nothing “right” about this view). If they lose power, they lose identity, status, control, and often for those folx that is the crux of their meaning and purpose.
It makes deconstruction the enemy to many.
On the other hand, deconstruction is liberation and salvation for many many many others.
I find myself constantly in those places these days, wondering what is worth keeping and what’s worth recycling, composting, or just downright throwing away (or burning down in some cases). I’m over fifteen years beyond my first real religious deconstructive moment, and it’s a part of how I see so many other things.
How will I choose to parent?
How will I show up for my spouse?
How will relate to others and embody the difference I think is important?
How should I respond to those who won’t move or feel stuck themselves?
Who is God in these times?
Why is God important?
What holds us together in the midst of being torn apart?
What does it mean to practice what I value and believe?
It’s all there. It used to live in the background, in the static of my mind, and those moments of deconstruction turned up the volume to a point where they couldn’t be ignored.
And, all in all I’m glad. I still wander lost somedays. I still gravitate toward certainty because it feels safe. But, I always come back to the table. I stare at the parts, the glob of peanut butter, the homemade grape jelly, the multigrain bread, and the butter knife. I put things together to see if that’s the sandwich I need at this time, always knowing there are other ingredients that will fill my belly and comfort my spirit…