Tyler Johnson, MDiv
Tyler is an engineer, teacher, and former pastor. He loves to explore truth through God’s word and God’s works. He lives in Kansas with his wife and four children and spends what little free-time he has practicing tae kwon do and pondering the mysteries of light.
Kendall and I started writing in 2019. At the time our idea was to write a book for kids about the fruitful interplay between the science and the Christian faith. Kendall was an elementary science teacher and I was a pastor and we were both interested in helping our kids develop a sense of wonder and awe at the natural world which is filled with intimations of God’s sacred presence. We wrote several short observations and reflections and started looking into publishing options. But we never had a strong concept for how the book would flow or be cohesive. So after some brainstorming we decided that we should just started putting our reflections online in a blog. It seemed much easier and we could broaden our scope to include adults too. So we started this blog with an intentional focus on issues of faith and science.
That was March of 2020.
For a while we tried to stay focused on issues of science and Christian faith, but soon we found ourselves talking about a variety of complicated issues that had to do with the church and the world. The murder of George Floyd and the response to the BLM movement from so many Christians confused and disgusted my wife and I, and we sought ways to help our church people engage what was happening in our culture well. But the forces of chaos were too strong and soon we were asked to resign from our church. Suddenly we were both unemployed in the middle of a global pandemic. That crisis point is when I truly entered into what is now called Deconstruction.
I say truly entered, because I had been critical of and frustrated with the Church for a while. I had been deconstructing in some small ways since seminary. But something happened when I was no longer dependent on the church for my paycheck or my purpose. I learned that it is hard to really see, much less acknowledge, the deep flaws of an institution that is the sole source of income for you and your family. And it is even harder to see the ways that you contribute to and perpetuate those flaws when you are in the middle of all the action. The last couple of years have involved a lot of loss and grief and remorse over the state of the Church and my connection with it. My understanding is that this is quite common among those who are deconstructing.
Deconstruction is not fun. I assure you that nobody goes down this road if there is a simpler option. One gets thrust into deconstruction whether they like it or not. It is unpleasant to feel out of place in church, when it has been a place of comfort and belonging your whole life. It is difficult to stay connected to a faith tradition that has brought so much value and meaning to your life, but now often seems so trite and banal. The hardest part, for me, is realizing that at times what I taught as the Bible was little more than American capitalism, at times what I taught as the words of Jesus were really just modern business strategies, and at times what I considered good leadership, was just dehumanizing Utilitarian ethics. I now struggle to see the Church as something that transcends the machinations of the control-hungry, growth-obsessed, comfort-seeking culture that it is embedded in. But that is precisely what I’m looking for.
Deconstruction has been good though. My faith hasn’t diminished, though it has evolved. I still adhere to the tenets of orthodox Christianity, though I’m not sold-out to the modern church. Most importantly, my view of God and God’s goodness has grown. I have become much more comfortable with mystery and as a result I would say that my faith is becoming a much simpler faith. Not a weak faith, not a surface-level faith, not an obdurate faith but a simpler faith. I can’t now understand why some things seemed so important while I was a pastor, nor why some issues take so much of the Church’s time and effort. Certainly my focus has shifted.
Here are some of the observations that have been important to my during my deconstruction of which I will write more about in the future.
Rather than a full 3-4 year MDiv, potential pastors would have more success leading a church with one year of seminary classes and an MBA. This is a critique, not a suggestion.
Politics is simply about gaining and maintaining power. The Church cannot sanctify politics. Politics always distorts the Church towards its own power-hungry purposes.
Fear can be used to effectively control large masses of people. Fear is pervasive in our media, politics, and churches.
Christians would do better to teach their kids to recognize the truth, beauty, and goodness in the world around them (and to see these as shadows of God’s Truth, Beauty, and Goodness), rather than to teach them that they can only trust things that can be verified with a statement from one of Paul’s letters.
When the Church allows the world to determine the issues that are important, the categories that are available, and the language that can be used, then it has already lost.
Loving people like Jesus did is far more important than telling people that Jesus loves them. Our embedded theology is always formed by the communities we are part of.
Those are big-picture and may be too abstract for some people. But I’ll dig into them more in the future. In general, I really believe that Paul was right when he wrote: Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to discern what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.
As long as we/the Church/Christians continue to engage the world on its terms, we/the Church/Christians will fail to be able to discern what God’s good, pleasing and perfect will is. And just to be clear, its terms are rooted in power, control, influence, and manipulation. These things simply cannot be redeemed for use in God’s kingdom.
Rebuilding after deconstruction probably looks a bit different for different people. But I can say that for me the faith that seems to be developing doesn’t look like a wall that includes/excludes. It isn’t shaped like a castle that is meant to defend and protect. Instead it is simpler; smaller in some ways but also expansive in others. It is less anxious and less afraid. It seems to me to be a more beautiful faith. And I’m pretty happy about that.