
“Deconstruction” has become one of the most talked-about theological buzzwords of our time. It is essential work as many of us carry the baggage of the theology we inherited growing up.
At some point, though, those beliefs begin to crumble when we realize they don’t align with how the world works. When that happens, people start tearing their beliefs apart, but they often throw the baby out with the bathwater.
The late Marcus Borg offered a helpful framework for understanding this journey of faith. He described three phases:
- Pre-critical Naïveté – We accept the theology given to us because we trust those who taught us. For instance, we may have once believed the world was literally created in seven days, simply because a pastor or loved one told us so.
- Critical Thinking – As we learn more, what we know to be factual begins to rub against what we’ve been taught. A science class, for instance, reveals that the Earth formed over billions of years as part of an expansive universe. If that’s true, then the creation story can’t also be literal.
- Post-critical Naïveté – We rediscover that stories can be true even when they’re not factual. The creation story, then, reminds us that God is present in all things and calls this world “good.”
Too often, we get stuck in that middle phase. Borg called it “critical thinking.” We call it “deconstruction.” We tear down the old frameworks, but we never move beyond them. The Progressive Christian movement has sometimes found itself stuck here, too.
Letting go of harmful beliefs is crucial—especially those that have justified exclusion, denial of science or abuse of scripture.
Believing God made the world in seven days can lead us to distrust scientific truth, which can have dangerous consequences. Believing the Bible is the inerrant word of God allows verses to be ripped from their context and weaponized in God’s name. Reading Revelation as a literal prediction of the rapture turns a subversive work of resistance into an escapist fantasy.
Deconstruction frees us from these distortions. But if we stop there, we miss the beauty and depth that faith can still offer.
This process reminds me of the exile in the Hebrew Bible. When the Babylonians destroyed Jerusalem, leveled the Temple, and exiled Israel’s leaders, it seemed like the Israelites had lost everything they held sacred. Since they believed YHWH dwelled in the Temple’s Holy of Holies, the people felt as though even God had been defeated.
Deconstruction can feel like that—like your spiritual home has crumbled and you’re exiled from the community you once called family. It can feel as if your god has died. But the exile wasn’t the end of the story.
When the Persians defeated Babylon and allowed the Israelites to return home, they faced a new task: rebuilding. Ezra and Nehemiah tell of the people’s decision to reconstruct the Temple and the walls of Jerusalem. In Nehemiah, we read, “Then they said, ‘Let us start building!’ So they committed themselves to the common good” (Nehemiah 2:18).
Reconstruction of faith requires the same decision. We must choose to rebuild—to move beyond the rubble of what we’ve left behind and commit ourselves to something stronger, truer and more life-giving. That reconstruction often begins with decentering ourselves.
For too long, American Christianity has been marked by hyper-individualism: a faith focused on personal salvation, private belief and isolated spirituality. But a reconstructed, progressive faith turns our gaze outward. It invites us to live for the common good—to build communities grounded in love, justice, and compassion.
Progressive Christianity at its best embraces the facts of the universe while reaching toward deeper truths. It reminds us that we are all God’s beloved children, that this world is still good, and that it can be better if only we work together to make it so.
May we have the courage to tear down what is broken and build something new. May we commit ourselves to the common good as Nehemiah’s people did.


