Ikea Explains Religious Deconstruction | Sojourners

Ikea Explains Religious Deconstruction

Is an enormous warehouse full of good-enough furniture really equipped to explain a sensitive theological process? (Spoiler alert: No). 
Illustration of blond child leaning his body through an Ikea bag to grip an Ichthys
Illustration by Melanie Lambrick

ALLOW ME TO introduce myself: I’m IKEA, an expert in DIY construction and deconstruction, here to explain a recent religious phenomenon. According to a 2021 Relevant magazine article, Christianity is in “the age of deconstruction.” “Through deconstruction,” explains writer Kurtis Vanderpool, “we are able to find the good and the helpful parts of our faith upbringing, while reshaping or throwing out the unhelpful.” But there is a problem! While the exvangelicals on Twitter are obsessed with deconstruction, “most people you will find in church are uncomfortable with deconstruction,” says Vanderpool.

You may be thinking, “Is an enormous warehouse full of good-enough furniture really equipped to explain a sensitive theological process? No offense, IKEA, but did you even go to seminary?” No, I didn’t. But nondenominational churches often pay me thousands of dollars to host massive lock-ins and I overhear A LOT of really bad theology as youth pastors, groggy chaperones, and sugar-faced youth groups play hide-and-seek in my showrooms. (I’m pretty sure I didn’t dream this.)

I have so many showrooms. C.S. Lewis once described Christianity as “a hall out of which doors open into several rooms.” Um, I don’t wanna make this all about me, but does that sound familiar to anybody?? Hallways are a good place to deconstruct before finding a new denomination or theology—aka “room”—to settle into. But remember, some rooms are better than others. Some rooms have Swedish meatballs. Other rooms are best to avoid. Complementarianism, for instance, is one of my least favorite showrooms. None of the mugs are dishwasher safe, and there are too many posters that say “Live, laugh, love, if your husband says it’s okay.”

Ugh and don’t get me started on the substitutionary atonement showroom. The swear jar takes up half the counter space, and even on Christmas Day that place is decorated like it’s Good Friday—crucifixes made of shiplap EVERYWHERE.

Here’s another bit of advice when deconstructing your theology: Always keep the screws. Put them in a plastic bag and label them with a Sharpie. It may feel like your deconstruction is permanent, or you may believe that your current theological construction is impervious to doubt. Still, keep the screws. You can’t sell IKEA furniture on Craigslist without them.

Now, this last part is the most important. I want you to close your eyes for a second and think about the last time you put together an IKEA bed frame. You likely called your best friend with a power drill to help you. If you needed someone there to help you construct, shouldn’t you also have someone there for the deconstruction? It is best not to peel back the layers of your theology in isolation (unless it’s like an IKEA coffee table made mostly of particleboard, melamine foil, and plastic edging—best to just put that one out on the curb).

This appears in the April 2022 issue of Sojourners