Remember Your Baptism Again and Again and Again

On Deconstructing, Unlearning, and Remembering

I recently wrote what I thought was a winsome post on Facebook about how I hoped 2026 would be the year we dispense with the words “exvangelical” and “deconstruction.”

For those of you who might not know, “deconstruction” is a word used by people who find the (generally American Evangelical) faith they were given insufficient, and it refers to a process of questioning everything. At least that’s as best as I’ve understood it. I once asked an Exvangelical influencer on Instagram what “deconstruction” meant. He told me it means different things to different people. Which isn’t really helpful. One cannot have a movement without a common understanding of the defining features of the movement.

Reddit has a thread on deconstruction. The description doesn’t give a definition. But it does distinguish it from Derrida’s philosophy, which, oddly enough, several interlocutors on Facebook insisted was defining for the movement.

Anyway, I accidentally hit a nerve on Facebook.

I didn’t know these terms had welcome currency to people with whom I’m Facebook “friends” and to whom the algorithm fed my cheeky post. I was told in the comments that I was insensitive and un-pastoral, and that I was rage baiting.

The irony that those who say one should question everything got upset when I questioned deconstruction doesn’t escape me.

In my last Slow Burn Christianity post, I talked about how Christian anger at least in part fueled my own theological and ecclesiological journey. But that my anger at the Christian leaders who failed to bequeath to me a genuine faith motivated me to love God, the church, and the world more deeply.

What I’ll give to those who still cherish the word “deconstruction” is that we’ve all learned things in the church that we definitely need to unlearn. Tradition isn’t always deserving of a capital “T” in the theological sense. There are well-intentioned leaders who out of ignorance or neglect teach bad faith and practice. And there’ll always be wolves and Judases in the church who gnaw at the sheep of God’s fold and betray them to the work of the devil. Jesus condemned those people to have a millstone tied around their necks.

A millstone. Note the hole for a neck.

One of the ways that I’ve learned to unlearn the bad stuff is by relearning the good stuff.

For example, with each passing year, my baptism has become something that I’ve cherished more deeply. And rightly so because baptism is the central initiation rite of the church. Until someone is baptized, we can’t say with any level of certainty that someone is a Christian in a New Testament sense. And for Paul baptism is central to his pastoral theology:

Should we go on sinning? No, because we’re baptized (Romans 6).

Should we be racist, classist sexists? No, because we’re baptized (Galatians 3).

Should we worship idols? No, because we’re baptized (1 Corinthians 10).

But even more importantly, baptism is what reminds us that we are children of God. The promise we have is that what happened for Jesus in his baptism is also what happens for us. God the Father said, “this is my beloved Son with whom I am well pleased” as the Spirit came down on him in the form of a dove.

When we get baptized, God once again says, “this is my beloved daughter/son with whom I am well please,” the Spirit descends on us, and so we are united with Christ.

It’s a wonderful thought that should guard us from all the false teachings of the devil. In all three synoptic Gospels, it was immediately after Jesus was baptized and called the Son of God that the devil tempted him in the wilderness precisely to question whether Jesus indeed was the Son of God. Which is a warning to us that questioning our membership in the family of God is the devil’s number one priority.

A baptismal font perfect for baptizing

All of the false teaching we need to unlearn in the church might be boiled down to unlearning that which throws doubt on our baptized status. As I write that, I wonder if it’s an overstatement. I welcome your comments if you think it is.

But either way, I invite you to remember your baptism.

Remember that you are the Spirit-anointed child of the Father with and in and through Jesus.

Remember that it’s the proof of your future resurrection.

Remember it in every church service, and spit out anything that doesn’t align with it.

Remember your baptism.

And remember it again. And again. And again.