Lately, as I’ve explored social media, I’ve encountered a term I wasn’t familiar with: Christian deconstruction.

I’ve spent some time reading posts, listening to stories, and looking through comments. And I find myself grieving.

Not because people are asking questions about what they’ve been taught. I think we should ask questions. In fact, Scripture calls us to examine what we believe.

In Acts 17:11, the Bereans were commended for searching the Scriptures daily to see whether what they were being taught was true. And 1 Thessalonians 5:21 tells us to test all things and hold fast to what is good.

We should be willing to challenge what doesn’t align with God’s Word and let go of things we’ve mistaken for truth.

But there is a difference between examining what we’ve been taught against God’s truth and abandoning God’s truth to construct our own.

And that leaves me wondering something.

How many people are walking away from God without ever discovering who He is beyond the people and religious systems that claimed to represent Him?

Because if we don’t know God or His Word for ourselves, what are we really following?

A philosophy? A collection of beliefs and behaviors passed down by people who told us this was Christianity?

And what happens when life challenges that philosophy?

We begin to revise it. We keep what makes sense to us, discard what doesn’t, and reshape what we believe around what we’ve experienced.

But then our experiences become the authority for what is true.

Instead of allowing God’s truth to shape how we understand our experiences, we allow our experiences to shape what we believe is true about God.

And those are two very different foundations.

Jesus didn’t say, “I will show you a philosophy for living.”

He said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” (John 14:6)

I hear stories of people raised in church, taught what Christians should do, what they shouldn’t do, how they should dress, speak, behave, and believe.

Somewhere along the way, Christianity became a list of expectations. Do the right things. Avoid the wrong things. Pray enough. Believe enough. Be good enough.

And perhaps, if you get it all right, life will turn out the way you hoped.

But then life doesn’t.

People disappoint us. Prayers seem unanswered. Christians hurt one another. The people who taught us about God’s love sometimes fail to demonstrate it.

And suddenly, everything we thought we knew begins to unravel.

Here’s what grieves me.

They may be right about what they’ve experienced. But does that mean they’re right about who God is?

Christianity was never meant to be a collection of behaviors that, when stacked just right, produce a perfect life.

Jesus didn’t call us to religious performance. He called us to follow Him.

And those are very different things.

I know this because there was a moment in my own life when I cried out to God, and something changed.

I can’t fully explain what happened or how to put it into words. I just knew that He loved me. I knew He was with me.

It wasn’t because I had finally done enough right things. It wasn’t because my circumstances suddenly became perfect.

I encountered a love I couldn’t manufacture, earn, or adequately explain.

And I have never seen life quite the same way since.

That doesn’t mean I’ve followed Him perfectly. Far from it.

But knowing Him changed what I wanted my life to be about and how I saw others.

I’ve also seen the other side.

Someone very close to me grew up in church and became hardened toward nearly everything associated with it.

What they knew of Christianity was shaped largely by the people who claimed to represent God.

And that is a sobering thought.

When someone looks at my life, what am I teaching them about God?

If I proclaim that God has forgiven me, yet continue to hold bitterness and resentment toward those who have hurt me, what am I teaching others about His forgiveness?

If I proclaim that God’s Word is truth, yet choose which parts to follow based on what feels right to me, whose truth am I really living by?

If I proclaim that God’s love is unconditional, yet extend love only to those who agree with me, what am I showing others about His love?

If I proclaim that God has transformed my life, yet refuse to acknowledge my own sin or repent when I am wrong, what evidence of that transformation do others see?

And if the people representing God appear to be frauds, is it surprising that someone might begin to wonder whether God is a fraud too?

That question should humble every one of us who calls ourselves Christians.

Jesus Himself confronted religious hypocrisy. In Matthew 23, He rebuked religious leaders who placed heavy burdens on others while failing to practice what they taught.

He was not defending religiosity. He was exposing it.

And maybe that is something we all need to examine.

What have we added to Christianity that Jesus never asked of us?

What traditions have we elevated to the level of truth?

Where have we confused outward behavior with a transformed heart?

Where have we represented ourselves more than we have represented Him?

I believe there is a God who loves us, who is sovereign, who is perfectly just, and who will one day judge the world. I believe eternity is real, and that knowing Jesus matters more than anything else we will ever pursue.

But I also know that my life will never be a perfect representation of Him.

There will be days when I fail to love as I should. Days when my words, attitudes, or actions don’t reflect the One I claim to follow.

And for those days, I am sorry.

My greatest fear isn’t that someone might discover I’m imperfect. I already know that I am.

It’s that someone might look at my imperfections and mistake them for God’s character.

I pray that no one ever concludes they should walk away from Him because of something they saw in me.

But I also pray that those who have been hurt, disappointed, or disillusioned by Christianity will consider one more question before walking away.

Have I come to know Jesus for myself, or have I only known what other people told me about Him?

Because those are not necessarily the same thing.

Maybe we all need to do some deconstructing.

Not to build a truth that simply feels better to us, but to examine what we’ve built our faith upon.

To tear down what is false.

To release what is merely religious performance.

To question what people have told us and return to what God has actually said.

And then, to allow Him to rebuild what remains on the only foundation that can hold.

Jesus Christ.

“For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ.” — 1 Corinthians 3:11 (NIV)

Even if people have misrepresented Him, still He is worth knowing for yourself.

Even If, Still