“The Deconstruction of Christianity” by Childers and Barnett: A Book Analysis Series (Part 4: #Hope)

Finally, I’m coming to the end of my look at Deconstructing Christianity by Alisa Childers and Tim Barnett. To be honest, I have not enjoyed writing it. It’s not because I didn’t agree with it. I actually have come away thinking that the criticisms of the book are over-exaggerated and unfair. Besides, when I really disagree with a book, I rather enjoy taking it apart in a few blog posts.

But when it came to this book and this subject matter, I suppose I have come to the realization that I’m just tired and bored with it. I’m tired of getting into and reading/watching debates that try to “prove” or “disprove,” “attack” or “defend” Christianity and/or the Bible. And I’m tired of the blatant politicization of these kinds of debates. I’ve always known that within certain segments of Evangelicalism, some Christians have wrongly conflated the Christian faith with GOP politics. That’s not to say every Christian who is conservative or votes GOP is guilty of that—obviously not. But many do.

At the same time, and I’ve seen it especially since 2016, it is apparent to me that most of those who now identify as “exvangelical” or have “deconstructed” their faith now march in lock step with the most extreme politically “progressive” stances and ideologies. As a blunt example, show me someone who loves to quote Bart Ehrman and who routinely rails against any and everything “Evangelical” now, I guarantee you I’ll be able to accurately what that person’s stance is on every single controversial political issue is. Simply put, if Evangelicals have been guilty of politicizing their faith with conservative politics, the current batch of “exvangelicals” are guilty of it ten-fold from the other side of the political spectrum—and they’re so freaking angry about it all the time.

For that reason, even though I get where Childers and Barnett are coming from, and even though I think they make valid points throughout their book, I can’t help but wonder, “What’s the point?” Perhaps the goal is to reach out to Christians who want to ask questions about the faith and to encourage them to do so, without going down the road of “deconstruction.” Fair enough. But I don’t think any self-identified “exvangelical” or “deconstructionist” is going to be convinced or won over by it. In any case, before I blather on any further, let me provide a bird’s-eye view over Part 4 of their book, titled “#Hope.”

Chapter 11: Questions
The point of Chapter 11 is pretty simple: It’s okay to ask questions. Churches should be the place where people feel free to ask questions. It’s wrong when churches don’t welcome people with honest questions, and churches should be prepared to give good, thoughtful answers, because “bad answers shut down sincere questions” (209).

That being said, Childers and Barnett remind us that ultimately there are two kinds of “questioners”: (1) those who are honestly looking for answer, and (2) those who are actually looking for “exits”—namely, excuses to reject the Christian faith. Sometimes I encounter these latter kinds of people online, often times when it comes to some topic about the Bible. They will scream, “Oh there’s no evidence for…this or that…regarding Jesus. Show me evidence!” Then when I point out textual evidence or testimony from the Church Fathers about (for example) that Luke was a travelling companion of Paul and that he wrote Luke/Acts, they immediately reject it and screaming about how they want evidence…and we just go round in circles. Yes, questioners who fall into that second category aren’t really questioners at all, in my opinion.

In any case, Childers and Barnett then point to John the Baptist, when he had questions about whether or not Jesus was the Messiah, as a good example to follow anyone who has questions about Christianity: (1) He openly expressed his questions; (2) he questioned in community; (3) he understood the implications to his questions; and (4) he truly sought answers to his questions. The bottom line, Childers and Barnett say, is that Jesus can handle our doubts.

That’s true. Having grown up in Evangelicalism, and having gone to a Christian high school, I know firsthand how much pressure there was not to ask serious questions, for fear of being looked at with suspicion. That being said, though, I think often times those fears are in the mind of the individuals afraid to ask the tough questions and reflects oftentimes more of their own misconceptions about God and what “being a good Christian” entails. I learned early on that you have to summon the courage to ask your questions anyway and consciously “put to death” that self-righteous caricature of Christianity that, if we were to admit it, is in our own hearts. Simply put, it’s not “other people” who are putting pressure on you not to have the courage to ask tough questions—it’s you. So, get over yourself and start taking actual steps of faith by asking the damn questions. If you’re too afraid to ask the questions you have, then that’s on you—you’re choosing not to step out in faith.

Chapter 12: Advice
In Chapter 12, Childers and Barnett give some “advice” for Christians on how to deal and interact with people who are having a crisis of faith. One point Childers makes that I think is good is that if someone chooses to “deconstruct,” and that results in that person leaving the Christian faith, that person is ultimately responsible for his/her own decisions. It’s not necessarily “your fault” that someone else walked away from the faith. Every Christian has shortcomings and faults, so if you have sincerely tried to help that person, and that person ditches the faith anyway, you can’t beat yourself up about it. In any case, the additional “advice” Childers and Barnett give for Christians when they have friends who are in a faith crisis is to (1) pray, (2) stay calm and stay in that person’s life, and (3) “do some triage” and just try to understand what the person is going through before you try to “fix” anything.

Again, there’s not much to criticize there. That is sound advice.

Where the chapter falters quite a bit is when Childers and Barnett try to tease out some differences between (A) honestly questioning things within Christianity, and (B) “deconstructing.” Like I said in my first post in this series, Evangelicals and “exvangelicals” seem to really love “labels” and that gets them into unnecessary hot water. The two examples Childers and Barnett get of veering off into “deconstruction” involve someone “embracing the LGBTQ+ agenda” and someone else toying with the idea of evolution while in college.

Regarding evolution, since I’ve written an entire book about the Creation/Evolution Debate, I’ll just say Childers and Barnett are simply wrong. This is a topic that the Evangelical world has yet to fully grasp—YECists like Ken Ham don’t make things any easier, but that’s the state of things right now. Long story short, the biological theory of evolution is not a threat to anything in the Christian faith. If you want to learn more about this, you’re in luck—a revised edition of my book, The Heresy of Ham should be coming out by the end of the year!

As for the “LGBTQ+ agenda,” it is simply much too broad a label. Simply put, there is a huge difference between some people who identify in that way and who just want to live a normal life and some people who are (let’s not mince words) stark, raving mad activists. Trying to have any intelligent conversation about any of that using the label “LGBTQ+” is going to end up in a train wreck, in my opinion. And using that particular issue as essentially the “poster child” for someone falling away from the faith is just not wise. Sure, it is true that this issue is pretty high on the list of things many “exvangelicals” who are “deconstructing” care about and promote, so it is understandable that Childers and Barnett try to address it. I just don’t think the way they address it does much good.

Chapter 13: Saturday
In the final chapter, both Childers and Barnett share personal stories of their own disillusionment with the church. Childers was in a successful Christian music group in the early 2000s and was not impressed with the Christian Music industry. She found much of it to be more about making money than about Christ. To this day, with church in general, she says, “I’ll admit I’m still a little uncomfortable walking into church. She and I have a complicated relationship. I still tend to sit in the back and watch from afar. I still have a way to go” (247).

That tells me she isn’t some bubble-wrapped Evangelical who stays safe and judgmental in that “Evangelical bubble.” She’s open about her own struggles and disillusionment with modern Evangelicalism. In fact, I can’t say that much in her book can honestly be characterized as “judgmental” either. She doesn’t strike me as a “holier-than-thou” Evangelical who has conflated Christianity with conservative politics. She’s obviously conservative and obviously Evangelical, and that’s fine. On top of that, most of her comments about he “deconstructing Christianity movement” are responses to what actual “exvangelicals” and “deconstructionists” have written and said. She’s interacting with them, and that’s fine.

As for Barnett, he shares an experience he had dealing with his pastor’s infidelity. He ends his personal story with the following: “I still have lots of questions. Christianity isn’t tidy, and neither is the church. As long as there is a church, there will be church hurt. As long as there is a cursed creation, there will be suffering. As long as there is mystery, there will be unanswered questions. But as long as there is a risen Savior, there is hope” (249).

Again, that’s pretty honest. I can’t see how anyone could disagree with that. Like I said at the beginning of this series, there are things here and there in the book that I was not impressed with or disagreed with, but I wasn’t offended by the book. It didn’t strike me as hateful or judgmental. For that reason, I can’t see how anyone could be upset or angry about their book.

Conclusion
Like I said at the beginning of this post, I’m glad I’m done with this. Overall, I’m just tired of these kinds of debates between (mostly) Evangelicals and exvangelicals, or just Christians and atheists in general. And since I’ve pretty much immersed myself on my blog for these first five months of 2024 regarding those very things, I think its safe to say I will be moving away, topic-wise, to something else on my blog.

For these past two school years, I’ve been back teaching full-time high school English while trying to get certain writing projects across the finish line. My Blue-Collar Bible Scholar: Reader’s Guide to the New Testament came out this past December, and an accompanying workbook should be due out later this summer. A BCBS: Reader’s Guide to the Old Testament (with accompanying workbook) is in the pipeline as well. On top of that, a revised edition of The Heresy of Ham will be coming out later this year, too. Those three projects represent the bulk of my life and work during my 16 years in Alabama (although both Reader’s Guides go all the way back to my time at Regent College in the 1990s).

All that said, what I plan on occupying myself with on this blog from here on out are primarily two things: (1) more posts specifically about biblical books and the Bible in general (as a way to further promote my BCBS Reader’s Guides), and (2) more posts about literature. I’ve noticed that recently, the occasional posts I’ve written on things like T.S. Eliot poetry have been blowing up on my blog. Since I’m back full-time teaching literature, I’m going to provide more helpful content in that area as well.

I’m tired of tired, old, contentious “debates” that occupy so much time among Christian apologists and exvangelicals alike. I don’t see them bearing much fruit at all. They just produce more strife. I’d much rather spend my time positively writing about what is so fascinating in both Biblical Literature and British/American Literature.