What can you do when doubt and discouragement creep in?
By / Apr 28

On Easter, rapper Andy Mineo tweeted a thoughtful thread capturing a significant mood in the American Church. In the thread, he noted:

I feel myself & many others are in a spiritual ‘Saturday’-the day after Jesus died & the day before he rose. The in-between. Still saddened by the loss of what they thought Jesus was going to be…To parallel, I still feel like I am grieving the loss of a version of Christianity & “Jesus” that didn’t turn out as I hoped.

For believers who share this disillusionment with their experience of Christianity, abandoning faith altogether can seem like the only viable option.

Burdened for those wrestling through doubt and deconstruction, The Gospel Coalition released a collection of essays called Before You Lose Your Faith: Deconstructing Doubt in The Church. The book features chapters from regular contributors to the organization’s blog and ministry. The essays are written with the hope they will “give perspective, answer questions, or at least help you understand that you’re not alone” in wrestling with deconstruction.

Facing the issues behind deconstruction

The last few years have featured many forces contributing to doubt, spiritual weariness, and reconsideration of personal faith: disappointment in Christian leaders and the Church, social isolation, political and cultural division, and a competition of grand ideas fighting to frame a societal narrative forward. Each chapter of Before You Lose Your Faith addresses a question or social issue common to the current deconstruction conversations within American Protestantism. The essays also include encouragement and guidance rooted in confessional Christian belief. 

The first section of the book is titled “Deconstruct Deconstruction.” It features essays that ask critical questions of deconstruction narratives, parsing out the beliefs and assumptions that drive doubt and deconversion. The second section, “Deconstruct the Issues,” examines social and theological issues often at the crux of faith deconstruction. The final section, “Reconstruct Faith,” offers guidance and suggestions for a healthy reconstruction of Christian faith and practice.

Inviting thoughtful reflection through critical questions

Traditional faith communities often lack room for questions, nuance, and complexity, driving congregants elsewhere to answer their questions. Yet, deconstruction dialogue can simplify and reduce complex issues in a similar way. Before You Lose Your Faith engages with doubt and faith with a refreshingly thoughtful approach. The authors recognize the fruitful impulses and questions behind deconstruction. They also carefully highlight the contradictions within popular deconversion narratives.

Hunter Beaumont’s chapter “Don’t Deconstruct—Disenculturate Instead” affirms that there will always be elements of religious culture that need to be analyzed and culturally deconstructed and that the Bible provides a framework for “disenculturating” belief while holding firm to the gospel. In another chapter titled “Deconversion Is Not As Countercultural As You Think,” McCracken notes that while contemporary deconstruction is often framed as a subversive act, it is deeply rooted in consumerist, Western individualist, and “bourgeois” cultural assumptions. The chapters raise new questions that may be challenging to both orthodox believers and those walking away from traditional faith. Those questions invite thoughtful reflection that will edify readers.

Understanding doubt

While much of belief formation can be unconscious and fragmented, deconstruction stories tend to emphasize a journey of conscious choices an individual makes to abandon faith. Before You Lose Your Faith brings unstated influences like culture, affections, and philosophical assumptions to the foreground of understanding the deconstruction process. As such, readers will gain clarity on the unstated assertions of deconstruction and acquire vocabulary to reflect on their experience. Readers may also walk away realizing that deconversion is not a mere rational dismissal of faith but rather an exchange of one set of faith claims for another. 

A helpful resource within relationships

Deconstruction and doubt may manifest in intellectual or social ways. Still, they are often triggered by church hurt, personal trials, or broken relationships. Even those philosophical or social issues surrounding doubt can cut to the core of a person in painful and confounding ways. Before You Lose Your Faith focuses almost exclusively on intellectual and social issues. Some follow-up resources on how to process the more personal and emotional aspects of deconstruction would help those struggling with their faith and others responsible for their care.

Because the content is primarily intellectual, the resource might be most useful within established relationships and spaces where it can be processed with others. Individuals walking alongside those wrestling with deep doubt will find the book a helpful resource and reference for common themes at the center of contemporary deconstruction.

The issues the Church faces at this moment are challenging, but not without hope. Andy Mineo concluded his tweet thread:

As I read of the resurrection today – I was assured that there was a real resurrection. And that there will be a spiritual resurrection coming. One that I won’t expect. One that will be far greater than my original idea of faith in Jesus. One that I desperately need. 

Doubt and deconstruction can feel dark and frightening. But the gospel has proven to be a reliable resource for our most profound challenges and questions. Many will walk out of this challenging season with a renewed and refined understanding of their faith. It wouldn’t be surprising if Before You Lose Your Faith plays a role in that.

How can you help someone questioning Christianity?
By / Jan 27

Editor’s Note: This interview is part of a series engaging the authors of new or notable books. Because discipleship and spiritual formation go hand in hand, the goal of this series is to introduce you to beneficial and enriching works in order to better equip you to love God with your mind as well as your heart and strength. Find the entire series here.

What would you say to someone on the verge of walking away from the faith? What about someone questioning essential truths of Christianity? In Another Gospel?, Alisa Childers offers incredible help to those struggling with these and other questions about faith and the Christian religion. In the book, she takes on the movement known as progressive Christianity, considering its claims and where it falls short of historic Christian doctrine. More than critiquing this progressive strain of Protestantism, she also charts the way forward for Christians fighting against unbelief and helps to (re)anchor their faith on the solid ground of the gospel. We explored more of these ideas in our interview with Childers below.

Your book engages with what you call “progressive Christianity,” which is something we often hear about in political or social contexts. What do you mean by progressive Christianity? And how does it differ from historic Christian faith?

Progressive Christianity is a movement of people who identify as Christian, but have adopted theological liberalism, mixed with a bit of postmodern relativism. The unique characteristic of this particular brand of liberalism is that it is springing up and out of the evangelical church. 

What are common issues that drive people away from evangelical Christianity and toward progressive Christianity? Are there valid critiques that progressive Christianity raises that the church needs to hear?

Because progressive Christians are largely ex-Evangelicals who are reacting against their Christian upbringings, there are several factors that could lead to their deconstruction. For example, in listening to different deconstruction stories, we learn that many progressive Christians grew up in hyper-legalistic or even abusive church settings. Others grew up in a “Christian bubble,” in which they weren’t taught the difference between essential beliefs, and nonessential beliefs. 

Still, others began to see the Bible as morally dubious. In her book, Inspired, the late Rachel Held Evans, a key figure in the progressive movement, noted that when she was a little girl, the Bible was a magic book. As she grew older, she began to notice the true nature of the Noah’s Ark story, and the Canaanite conquest. This caused her to doubt the moral character of the God who was supposed to be the hero of the story. This led her to begin interpreting the Bible through the lens of liberation theology, feminism, and historical criticism. 

What would you say to someone on the verge of walking away from the faith?

And others, who grew up with a “name it and claim it” type of faith, didn’t have a theological category for suffering, and were left in a dark night of the soul following a trial or figuring out how to cope with unanswered prayers. When progressive Christianity first began to materialize through the Emergent church in the late ’90s and early 2000s, they brought in valid critiques of evangelicalism such as hyper-fundamentalism, abuse, and a lack of providing a safe place to bring doubts and questions. However, the progressive Christian movement ended up throwing out the gospel as well. 

The progressive approach to faith that you profile in your book might appeal to certain Christians who are struggling with their beliefs. What are some of the unforeseen pitfalls of this expression of faith? Why should we question the credibility of progressive Christianity?

The progressive movement is extremely appealing to those who are unsatisfied or disgruntled by their evangelical upbringing. Particularly for those who are asking difficult questions like “Why God would allow suffering?”, or, “How we know the BIble is the Word of God?”, it can be appealing because they are given a lot of space to ask these questions, without expectation of conformity. It can also appeal to Christians who are pressured by culture to capitulate on issues like abortion and sexual ethics. Because it is a movement largely driven by personal conscience, there is no pressure to side with the Bible on these issues. I think we should question the credibility of the movement because it is a belief system that holds feelings and personal preference as the highest authority, even over biblical mandate. 

Do you see a difference between unbelief and doubt? How do you think this distinction can help Christians understand the questions they have about God and the Bible?

I think there is a difference between doubt and unbelief. Sometimes, people think the opposite of faith is doubt, but the actual opposite of faith is unbelief. In fact, one can only doubt something they already believe. When we look at it from that angle, we see that doubt can be a very normal and healthy part of spiritual growth. However, progressive Christianity has created a culture of doubt, where agnosticism largely becomes the highest goal. 

Are there common questions or theological issues that tend to lead people toward a “deconstruction” of their faith? What is some practical wisdom for Christians feeling the first impulses toward the “spiritual labor” you describe in the book?

There are several different factors that can lead someone into deconstruction. When I’ve listened to deconstruction stories, there is often a mix of apologetics questions like, “Why does God allow evil and suffering?”, and, “Is the Bible really God’s reliable Word?”, and, “Has science disproved Christianity?” But when I listen closely, there is almost always an undercurrent of doubt regarding the biblical teaching on morality, and specifically, sexual ethics. I think in many cases, Christians feel pressured to align themselves with the cultural narrative on sexuality, which I have found to be a core tenet of progressive Christianity with advocacy for same-sex marriage and relationships being a main theme. 

My encouragement to Christians who are experiencing impulses toward this type of spiritual labor is to not give up. Often, it seems people begin deconstructing, but they don’t press through to find truth. Often, they’ve already decided they don’t believe what God says about morality or theology and look for reasons to change their minds. But if we keep our hearts set on truth, we will keep digging until we find it. 

You outline in your book how progressive Christianity often redefines or alters core tenets of historic Christianity. Can you give an example of this? Why is this so harmful?

One example of progressive Christianity altering a core tenet of the faith has to do with the atonement. Substitutionary atonement, and specifically, penal substitutionary atonement is referred to as “cosmic child abuse.” Progressive Christians don’t believe Jesus died on the cross for our sins as a sacrifice. Often, the atonement is described as God allowing the cross in order to submit to the bloodlust of humans, and to show how forgiveness works. This is harmful because it removes any mechanism for real atonement—to be reconciled to a holy God. But in progressive Christianity, humans aren’t separated from God in the first place, so there is no need for reconciliation. 

Are there cultural narratives or beliefs unique to our society that drive people toward adding or subtracting to the gospel? What are some ways we are guilty of the “chronological snobbery” that C.S. Lewis cautioned about?

The shift on sexuality and gender norms is a deeply influential cultural narrative leading people to redefine, add to, or subtract from the gospel. There is a push to accommodate the gospel to include the acceptance of premarital sex, homosexuality, and transgenderism. The cultural acceptance of critical theory and intersectionality, which divides people into groups of oppressed and oppressor has paved the way for these changes to be made. 

Another cultural narrative that is influencing Christians to add or subtract to the gospel is the broader push for valuing the self above all else. Messages like “just follow your heart” and “you are perfect just as you are” have led a large swath of Christians to reject the doctrine of original sin, trading it instead for “original blessing,” or “original goodness,” which teaches that humans are not inherently sinful, and if they are, that sin doesn’t separate them from God. If they feel separated from God, it is simply their shame or lack of realizing their belovedness that makes them feel the separation.

You encountered progressive Christianity through the emergent church, a previously popular movement that has now faded. Where do most people come into contact with progressive Christianity today?

The Emergent church planted the seeds for progressive Christianity. Largely speaking, it is the same movement, with the same philosophy and theological conclusions. When it was perceived that the Emergent church faded out, that is because Emergents were largely pushed out of the evangelical church, but then they grew and festered online on social media platforms, internet chat rooms, and blog sites. With fresh faces and voices, the movement continued to grow in numbers and influence, finding themselves published on major Christian publishing houses and being invited to evangelical churches and conferences. With this fresh crop of voices, but not excluding the original Emergent voices, progressive Christianity successfully infiltrated the evangelical church in ways the Emergent church was unable to accomplish. 

What have you personally gained from the reconstruction of your faith? How has that journey strengthened your relationship with Jesus and conviction in the historic Christian faith?

My journey to discover historic Christianity has been a two-fold blessing. On one hand, my experience at the progressive church left a wound. Like Jacob, I walk with a limp, but that limp has humbled me and made me even more dependent on the Lord. That is, in and of itself, a deeper blessing than I could have known to ask for. Second, the Lord has seen fit to bless me with an opportunity to help others who are encountering and interacting with progressive Christianity and help equip them to answer the claims and minister to their friends who are confused by it. Ultimately, my faith in God is stronger today than ever. I have learned to trust in what I know about God and not depend on my feelings. 

Encountering unasked questions created a faith crisis for you because your faith was, as you described, “intellectually weak and untested.” This is an experience shared by many Christians. How would you counsel believers who encounter questions they don’t have immediate answers for? How can the church better equip people to handle doubt?

My main advice for Christians encountering new questions they don’t have answers for is to begin with knowing that there is nothing new under the sun. This may be a new question to you, but it’s not a new question for the church. We have 2,000 years of a robust intellectual tradition that has been interacting with these types of questions. Keep digging. Don’t give up just because a clever skeptic spins something in such a way that causes confusion. It takes work, but as I say in the book, the hungry doubter will do the work. 

I think churches can help by providing apologetics and theological training for young people, starting in elementary school. Our kids are encountering skeptical claims about what they believe at such tender ages. We have to expose them to skepticism in the safety of our homes and churches, teaching them how to think critically and navigate these things before they go out into the world. Also, churches need to learn how to diagnose doubt. Not every doubt is intellectual. An apologetics class won’t necessarily help someone who is doubting because of cultural pressure to capitulate on sexuality. 

Seeking to understand the question behind the question can go a long way to help prepare Christians to stand strong in this increasingly more post-Christian culture. 

You can order Another Gospel? here.

Our hope in the midst of dealing with doubt
By / Sep 23

For a long time I’ve had a serious problem. And it is the kind of thing I’ve always thought I couldn’t talk about. My problem is doubt. I know that might not seem like a scandalous revelation. But to be honest, for most of my life I felt enormous pressure to keep my doubts a secret. And I think there are two reasons why.

The first reason is that I didn’t want to undermine the faith of anyone around me. It’s not as though I felt like the people in my life only believed in Jesus because of me. But I didn’t want to have anything to do with causing someone else to question their faith. The second reason is even more personal. I didn’t want to admit that I often struggle to believe in my best friend. And that is what Jesus has been ever since I was a small child—my very closest friend.

Doubt and despair

I was in junior high school when I first began to deal with doubt. And of all things, I think it was reading Greek mythology that kicked it off. As I began to learn about the vastness of our world and the multiplicity of beliefs about God and life after death, I began to question my beliefs. And for the first time I wondered if I was merely assuming my beliefs were true because they were the only ones I’d ever known.

As time went on, more things compounded these questions. I learned about other religions, each of which had its own perspective on both the divine and the meaning of life. I was introduced to agnosticism and atheism, and alongside these, secular humanism and Big Bang cosmology. And even as a teenager, I realized that Christianity wasn’t something I could believe by default. My faith was no longer something I could take for granted.

In college I was surrounded, for the first time, by smart people who rejected my beliefs. Not only that, but many of them were effective apologists for their own. And during those years, I went through something like the dark night of the soul.

I remember lying on my bedroom floor in the middle of the night, crying out to God, and feeling ridiculous because I was certain no one was listening. I was crushed and in despair. My faith that was once so certain was anything but secure. And Jesus, my best friend, felt so far away. But probably the worst part was that I was ashamed to reach out for help. I didn’t want to harm anyone else’s faith, and I didn’t want to admit where I was with my own. 

But thankfully, Jesus came through.

Help for my unbelief

One day during this time I wandered into a LifeWay bookstore and picked up a tiny book called, of all things, Doubting. In this little volume, the author, Alistair McGrath, offered real answers to my questions instead of merely brushing them to the side. Though I have not read it in many years, what I remember most is that McGrath helped me understand that my doubts didn’t erase my faith. He showed me, as strange as it may sound, that my faith was actually the best defense against my doubts. 

 Jesus is God. He can handle my doubts. And he can handle yours, too.

Around the same time, I started to dig into apologetics. I wanted to learn the answers to the questions people put forward to challenge Christianity. The more I learned about defending the faith, the more answers and hope I gained. Ultimately, I realized that if the Christian story is true, it is strong enough to withstand any challenge or scrutiny.

But as much as those things helped, nothing helped me more than Scripture. I learned that the Bible is a book for doubters and skeptics. And in my early 20s, I began to devour God’s Word, specifically the New Testament. The more I read, the more I found that my doubts were relieved.

The men and women featured within the pages of the New Testament who followed Jesus and continued to advance his ministry after his ascension laid everything on the line to do so. Nothing stills my doubts more than this reality. The Apostle Paul suffered greatly—stonings and shipwrecks and snakebites—all for the sake of the gospel. For me, his most comforting words were these: “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied” (1 Cor. 15:19) Or as Lecrae put it, “If Christ ain’t resurrected, we’ve wasted our lives.”

Freedom to doubt, and believe

One of the most helpful passages of Scripture for doubters like me comes from Matthew 11, when John the Baptist—the cousin of Jesus, who declared him to be “the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world”—is in prison. At this time, John knows he is about to die. But before he makes that final sacrifice, literally giving up his head for the sake of his faith, John sends his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?”

John is imprisoned because he made enemies by faithfully proclaiming the words of righteousness. But before he embraces martyrdom, he sends his disciples to ask Jesus if he really is the Christ, just to be sure. Instead of rejecting John because of his doubt, Jesus answers John’s disciples, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”

Jesus assures John that indeed the kingdom has come and that he is the long-promised Messiah of Israel. Jesus was not ashamed of his cousin. In that very passage, Jesus offers John assurance, and then commends John as the greatest man ever born of a woman (high praise coming from the eternal king of the universe).

Meditating on that passage brought forth a realization for me. If Jesus wasn’t ashamed of John, he isn’t ashamed of me or my doubts either. Jesus is God. He can handle my doubts. And he can handle yours, too. After all, Jesus is also the good shepherd. He is patient and gentle with his sheep. If, like me, you are prone to wander in the midst of doubt, Jesus is always faithful to seek us out. And he will carry you, if necessary, in order to bring you back and help you believe.