It’s (Probably) Not About Politics
On religious deconstruction, borrowed vocabulary, and softening the blow
Progressive politics and Christian “deconstruction” often go hand-in-hand – enough that the former is readily blamed for the latter. To outside observers, the correlation looks neat: adopt a “left-leaning” ethic, and your faith soon unravels.
But I think much (even most) of the time, it’s more likely that people who “leave Christianity” simply express their reasoning by borrowing language from a prevailing cultural vocabulary – in particular, one used by the kind of people who lose their faith but still strive for some kind of community-solidarity on the other side (say, the LGBTQ community, though of course, not every LGBTQ community operates beyond the purview of any religious influence) and a sort-of nod to the goodness of fellowship and togetherness even without the trappings of religion.
In other words, deconstructing one’s faith has (usually) is less about a tidy ideological pivot and more about finding words to articulate an already-felt incredulity.
I don’t have evidence for this aside from conversations with friends. But is it really needed, in our modern age? “Miracles,” the “supernatural,” and the sheer weight and influence of an alleged and invisible “spiritual realm” are hard things for modern people to justify – especially in the face of suffering and crisis. That these things could ever be allowed to go without much saying (as is, unfortunately, the case in many religious communities) and not end up discarded by inquisitive young people is unthinkable, to me.
And all this leaks over into other questions and doubts – especially as the prospect of a commitment to holiness and the denial of many “worldly pleasures” seems ever more oppressive as young people mature into adults.
But enunciating one’s rejection of the idea that, say, prayer works or that there really is a God out there is not necessarily an acceptable way to explain oneself to friends and family who take their faith seriously. It entails an (at least) implication that all the time spent in church and at religious school was mostly wasted – that all of mom’s daily prayers are useless. Understandably, few people are willing to throw this kind of wrench into their relationships.
So pointing to other, more relatable reasons (like “progressive politics” and its alleged concern for marginalized persons) that keep the discussion at a comfortable distance from questioning a loved one’s fundamental convictions is an easier way “out.” It’s a cushion for the fall, in a sense, that helps soften the blow for both sides of the usually-scandalous split.
I’m not opposed to seeing evidence that “progressive politics” really does drive people away from Christian faith. But for now, I simply don’t think positing “progressive politics” as the reason why someone rejects the idea that God is real, Jesus is the incarnation of God, and that Jesus’ kenotic love saves the world is likely to be accurate. True Christian faith runs much deeper than politics. When and where it doesn’t (or didn’t), I think faith probably doesn’t (and didn’t) exist – neither for church-going or non-religious people. And there’s no use in lamenting that someone fell away from a faith they never really had.
Anyways, so long as we level about religious participation only on the dynamic of expressed convictions and partisan politics, I think we talk in circles and uncover almost nothing about why so many modern people give up on it altogether. And we ostracize intelligent and good people (from whom we might learn a thing or two) with our unwillingness to listen just a little bit harder to what they’re saying and think deeper about why they’re saying it – our refusal to give them the benefit of the doubt, for just a moment, and read between the lines that many of them graciously keep within the purview of something that’s more acceptable (than something like, say, “God is fake”) to the family and community they are leaving behind.