I still get queasy in the pit of my stomach anytime I identify myself as “deconstructing.” I don’t like the term because of what people assume it means and the place it has taken in the conversation. More than that, I dislike the process and the fact that I came to a place where I felt the process was necessary. Parsing through your theology feels destabilizing. To stay intentional and grounded in identifying what you still believe, what you no longer believe, and what needs to be tweaked takes a toll, mentally.
What you believe about hell, for example, has some people condemning you to it. Remember that time John Piper Twitter-excommunicated Rob Bell for reexamining his hell beliefs? That happens a lot, for beliefs much smaller than hell. So it’s hard to take an honest-to-god review of your beliefs about hell when, in the back of your mind, there remains this nagging fear that where you come out on it may affect your eternal salvation. Or, more viscerally, your place in a community. My understanding is that eternal life comes as I consent to the work and lordship of Jesus. You don’t need full understanding or even enlightenment style, fully rationalized belief in order to consent.
Nevertheless, here is where I find myself, with a queasy stomach, parsing through my theology, wondering how patient Jesus really is.