On Kitchen Drawers and Deconstruction
Kindred Church is a collective of individuals from diverse backgrounds and schools of thought. Therefore, the views expressed in any blog written by a contributor do not necessarily express the views of Kindred Church.
The following is a contribution from Kristine Caliger (KBC), a member of our Pastoral Team and Teacher. To hear her discussion about this topic at a recent Sunday gathering, check out our podcast.
When my husband and I got married and moved in together in May 2021, we did what most partners do: we tackled the monumental task of taking two households-worth of stuff, sorted through said stuff, decided which stuffs to keep and which to throw away, and whittled all the stuff down until we could unequivocally say – with all certainty, with all confidence – that we had arrived at exactly one household-worth of stuff.
Admittedly, with mixed results.
While we’d been very successful in streamlining most parts of the house, there’s one part of the house that has been difficult to sort through – our beloved kitchen.
The kitchen is a pretty sacred space for both of us. Rob is a former professional chef – and to say he knows his way around food is the understatement of all understatements. He doesn’t just make food, he makes the best food. And I’m no slouch, if I do say so myself. I realized food was a passion of mine in my mid-twenties and proceeded to dedicate an obscene amount of time to discovering new cuisines and trying new techniques in the kitchen – and watched a lot of YouTube videos. And kept a lot of issues of Bon Appetit I should probably throw out.
As you can imagine, we both came into our new shared kitchen with a lot of things neither of us were ready to part with. So… we have two microplanes. Do you know what a microplane is? You usually almost never need two of them. But I admit I am STOKED we have two of them. We have a ridiculous number of appetizer plates. (My fault.) Glassware. (SO. MANY. DIFFERENT. KINDS.) Bar spoons. (Like, four… with different handle lengths… FOR REASONS.)
One drawer in particular is my favorite. Its contents include but are not limited to: the tiniest offset spatula you’ve ever seen, a mandolin that scares the living daylights out of me to use because it is so dangerously sharp and I am a low-key klutz when I grate and slice things, several oyster shucking knives, a pair of oyster shucking gloves, a handheld cheese grater (yes, I have found a way to injure myself with it), a lemon/lime juicer, a fish spatula, two sizes of cookie dough scoops, a rolling pin, what I can only assume were my grandmother’s corn holders, and much, much more.
Is this a junk drawer? At first glance and by cursory definition, absolutely. But is it full of junk? Absolutely not.
This drawer is a haphazard collection of seemingly unrelated kitchen gadgets, I do admit that; but we actually use a lot of them on a regular basis. Each tool has meaning and purpose to us, and the term “junk drawer” doesn’t really do justice to the contents inside.
Much like my beloved kitchen junk drawer, the English language presents us with words that house multiple meanings, intentions, and interpretations. You know, so-called “junk drawer terms.” If you were part of some kind of church college group or youth group in the mid-aughts, you probably remember seeing this video about the ways we use the word “love” in English, and how our applications of the word can be broad or imprecise at times. “I mean, I love my wife, and I also love tacos.” CLASSIC. If I had a dollar for every time I’d heard that example used in a sermon, I’d have, like… $5? $10? …I’d have dollars.
Yet, it stands as a great example of how words can be ambiguous or diverse in their meaning – and often need a bit of unpacking to understand their nuance. Perhaps more importantly, we need to unpack these words so we can better understand the people who are using them.
There’s one such term that has grown in popularity in and among Christian circles in the last 10 years or so, but especially in the last few: deconstruction.
In reading that word, you may already have a visceral reaction. Perhaps, when you hear the word “deconstruction,” you feel heard, seen, and understood because you’ve experienced a certain level of dissonance in your Christian faith – wrestling through experiences or revelations that have changed or challenged your long-held views – and you desperately want to know there’s a way to come out on the other side, still faithfully following Jesus. Perhaps you feel angry because you think deconstruction threatens the theological purity and unity of the church and the well-being of its people – it’s a dangerous undertaking and you care too much for people not to tell them to be on their guard. Or perhaps you’re confused – you’ve never heard the term and don’t understand what deconstruction is, and why people are up in arms about it. Or perhaps you’re deeply concerned for loved ones who have said that word – and you don’t know what that means for them, and their faith.
I’m not going to ask you to toss aside your present feelings about deconstruction. You have them for a reason, and feelings are to be explored, not dismissed. What I do ask, though, is that you and I – together – make ourselves available to open this kitchen drawer of “deconstruction” and see what’s inside, perhaps in a different way. I am not an expert, by any means; but I want to share what I’ve found that helps not only make sense of a cultural moment we’re very much in the middle of, but a process I’d consider myself very much in the middle of. As a lot of people are, including many at Kindred Church.
First, stop reading this blog, and read this blog. I know, you feel like you’ve been duped. But I think it’s valuable to make sure we’re on the same page in regard to the origins of the word “deconstruction,” as well as some observations on how it’s used by Christians today. Because we’re writing the first draft of history, no one’s perspective is going to be definitive – but the more we take a stab at it, the firmer grasp we’ll achieve over time.
Now that we’re on the same page, I commit to you the idea that – just like my kitchen drawer – the word “deconstruction” holds a few different concepts in its confines, and those individual devices need to be pulled out and examined.
In a recent series (linked here), the Voxology Podcast offered a really helpful set of terms that describe what people are experiencing when they use the word deconstruction. It’s by no means an exhaustive or definitive list – and you’re bound to miss something important any time you take a stab at defining anything – but I think these terms capture what most people may be communicating when they say they’re “deconstructing” or going through a deconstruction-like process. Some of the explanation of these terms comes from the podcast, and some comes from me.
Disillusionment
“I thought the church was supposed to be this, but it’s actually that.” A crushing pain when confronted with the imperfections and failures of the church and the people who lead it.
Discipleship
“I want to reform and reclaim the original Christian vision.” Seeking to follow Christ more faithfully in the world, while casting aside diversions – whether personal or cultural – that steer us away from seeing Christ’s kingdom come and will be done. The desire to root out corruption in the church and in our own hearts that obscures the way of Jesus.
Deconversion
“I renounce my faith in Jesus.” Walking away from the Christian faith altogether.
Redefinition
“I wonder if there’s more than one way to understand the Bible and my faith traditions in light of the dissonance I experience between what I read in the Bible and modern life.” Analyzing the original cultural context of the Scriptures as well as Biblical authors’ intentions in order to discover ways the Christian faith can be understood differently to make sense in our modern context.
Doubt
“I don’t know if I believe this.” How do we know if the claims of Christianity are real?
Disorientation
“What I know to be true about Christianity doesn’t seem to fit my experience.” A “dark night of the soul.” Simplistic cliches and answers don’t make sense anymore.
I venture to guess we’ve all experienced one or more of these states – past, present, or future – or know and love someone who has.
Over the last few weeks, as Kindred Church has started meeting, we’ve talked to a lot of people who say they are experiencing deconstruction – whether they use that term, or any other term, or not – and whose stories seem to echo and resonate with one another.
What we want to do is acknowledge and honor the fact that – through church history, and in the personal lives of Christians – it’s quite normal, and even healthy, to experience many of these things. Disorientation is part of the process in walking with God. So is doubt. Discipleship is certainly part of it, it’s vital to our faith. Disillusionment is real and often warranted. Redefinition, the process of trying to reconcile what we read in the Bible with what we experience in faith and life, can often lead to healthy shifts in our faith.
In our next sermon series, Shift Happens, we want to highlight the stories of people in the BIble who experience some type of shift in their believing or thinking – whether it’s working through disorientation or disillusionment, the process of discipleship or redefinition, or wrestling with doubt – as they take in new information about God, his people, and themselves, through culture, experience, divine revelation, and more – and what those outcomes can tell us about our own process of change.
Who do we want to be on the other side of deconstruction, and what kind of church do we want to build? How do we shepherd the experience of deconstruction with one another to foster healthy outcomes? And, P.S., how do we define and reach for healthy outcomes? These are some of the things we want to explore together as we engage with God’s word and one another in the coming weeks.
My earnest hope is that – as we do this work – we will find faithful friends in one another and fresh hope in our God.