According to The Great Dechurching by Jim Davis, Michael Graham, and Ryan Burge, 40 million Americans stopped attending church over the past 25 years — the largest religious affiliation shift in American history.

Most were “casually dechurched.” They simply fell out of the churchgoing habit, often because of a geographic move.

Others were “dechurched casualties,” however. They experienced a spiritual crisis that resulted in a change of faith.

Dechurched casualties constitute a large part of the contemporary deconstruction movement.

Some progressives see deconstruction as a prophetic judgment against cultural Christianity that needs to be heeded. Many conservatives view it as apostasy that needs to be refuted.

In Walking Through Deconstruction, Ian Harber portrays deconstruction as a moment that needs to be pastored.

Part 1 focuses on the experience and causes of deconstruction, while Part 2 outlines what Christians can do to help people in the process of reconstruction.

Crisis of Faith

Harber defines deconstruction as “a crisis of faith that leads to the questioning of core doctrines and untangling of cultural ideologies that settles in a faith that is different from before.”

This crisis arises because a person’s spiritual expectations clash with lived experiences in unsettling ways.

While the crisis contains an intellectual component, it cannot be reduced to mere skepticism about the Bible or Christian doctrine. It calls into question a believer’s entire way of life.

People who experience this crisis are often “imaginatively gridlocked,” Harber says, borrowing a term from family therapist Edwin Friedman. They either double down on faith or give it up entirely. They cannot envision a third option.

Harber identifies three catalysts that generate crises of faith.

The first is “cultural Christianity.” Here, what passes for Christianity is a bad imitation of biblical orthodoxy, not the real thing.

Harber argues that the primary form of cultural Christianity today is what sociologist Christian Smith called “moralistic therapeutic deism” (MTD). Basically, God exists to make everyone nice and happy. MTD is the default theology of most Americans, including many American Christians.

Because MTD is self-centered — supposing God serves your happiness — it lays an inadequate spiritual foundation for life. It is especially useless in the face of tragedy and suffering.

Unfortunately, if a person mistakes MTD for authentic Christianity, doubting the former means questioning the latter, too. Imaginatively gridlocked people do not see the gospel as a third option between MTD and no faith at all.

There is a third way between distorted forms of Christianity and an utter rejection of faith.

The second catalyst for a crisis of faith is “compromised churches.” Here, Harber focuses on congregations that substitute partisanship and ideology for real spiritual formation.

The problem is that partisanship and ideology become a procrustean bed in which authentic faith must be either stretched or amputated to fit. Those who criticize these distortions are considered traitors who must be driven out rather than heeded.

In such churches, leaders get away with abusive practices because they are on the presumed right side of the culture wars. Abusive practices are defended or explained away as missional necessities. Church members must get on board or leave.

Unsurprisingly, churches that side with abusers rather than their victims drive people to personal doubt and cynicism about organized religion. What cannot be imagined is a healthy church environment that transcends partisanship and ideological capture.

The third catalyst for deconstruction is “compounded anxiety.” Many Christians view the spiritual life as a steady, progressive rise. Every day, in every way, Christians are supposed to be moving closer to God.

Suffering and spiritual setbacks call into question this vision of steady progress. Worried that they aren’t experiencing their best life now, people in crisis redouble their commitment to spiritual disciplines, hoping devotion will resolve their struggles. When that doesn’t happen, they’re tempted to abandon spirituality as unattainable.

Imaginative gridlock keeps them from a realistic, biblical view in which the spiritual life follows what C.S. Lewis called “the law of undulation.” Rather than being a steady march of upward progress, Christians experience ups and downs, with Christ present throughout.

Helping people in crisis break through their imaginative gridlock is an important goal for the Church.

There is a third way between distorted forms of Christianity and an utter rejection of faith. We want to see people move toward that option.

Non-Anxious Presence

We cannot force the issue, however. As Harber puts it, “While deconstruction inevitably leads to reconstruction, there is no inevitable outcome of reconstruction” (emphasis in original).

The outcome depends on how a person in crisis responds to the Holy Spirit’s illuminating work.

What role, then, do believers play while walking with family, friends, and church members through deconstruction?

Drawing once again on Friedman, Harber argues that Christians need to be a “non-anxious presence.”

People in the throes of deconstruction experience stress at elevated levels. This heightened emotional state compounds their imaginative gridlock. The last thing they need is someone adding to this anxiety.

As a minister, I have often witnessed parents responding to their adult children’s crises of faith by bombarding them with apologetics articles, books, conferences, and unwanted advice. Every conversation circles back to the crisis.

I have never seen this strategy work. Instead, it exacerbates stress and pushes individuals in crisis further from faith — damaging relationships in the process.

A non-anxious presence doesn’t react to another’s crisis that way. Instead, it decreases the anxiety a person feels, offering space and time to break free from imaginative gridlock and consider other options.

According to Harber, a non-anxious Christian engages six practices with those experiencing a crisis of faith: prayer, patience, persistence, calm, curiosity, and care.

These practices do not guarantee renewal of faith. The outcome depends on how a person responds to the Spirit’s internal witness.

Rather, these practices make you approachable. “It does no good to try and control someone through your emotions,” Harber writes. “They must be moving toward you, which means that you must be a safe person for them to move toward.”

Being a non-anxious presence does not mean avoiding difficult conversations. Harber devotes several chapters to what faith reconstruction entails.

But relationship comes first. You cannot help people reconstruct if you don’t have a seat at their table, and they won’t give you a seat if you’re not safe.

I recommend Walking Through Deconstruction to any Christian who wants to be a faithful companion to family, friends, or church members in the throes of deconstruction.

Books Reviewed

Ian Harber, Walking Through Deconstruction: How to Be a Companion in a Crisis of Faith (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2025).

This review appeared in the winter 2025 issue of Influence magazine.