The Great
Deconstruction By: Nicole Locklart
In college, I had a particular group of friends who nearly became the entire collegiate experience itself for me. I say nearly because by the end of my three-year undergraduate experience I had completely removed myself from the group, only cordially associating with the gang of friends I used to do everything with. We did the typical all-nighters but instead of studying books, we were digesting the Word of God, praying into the wee hours of the morning, and corporately fasting for breakthroughs or outpourings of the Holy Spirit. There was a gospel choir rehearsal on Wednesdays, church on Sundays, Bible Study on Thursdays, and fellowshipping every day in between. We crusaded the campus with more evangelical fervor than the other Christian groups, who were content to merely gather a few times a quarter. We had become known as a Holy mob, unbeknownst to us, and I was at the epicenter dating the golden disciple--the future preacher. Before undergrad, I wouldn’t say that I had a lot of friends. But rather I always looked to my friends for a sense, not of belonging, but myself. I used the more developed identities of others, trying them on like lumpy sweaters masking whatever felt most like myself though less-accepted. Yet, in this misguided path toward selfdiscovery, I have always feared group mentality. My high school pastor at Point Harbor Community Church in southern Virginia made a joke once that I never forgot. “Christians tend to group up. And once they’ve accepted you into the fold, it becomes an us four and no more mentality.” I imagined a group of Christians all linked in arms, heads huddled in the center, feet dancing, keeping a fifth person from entering into their ranks--or worse their churches. I saw the same beginning to happen with me and my friend group, becoming notorious not only for the cliquish behavior but also for prudence, and judgment, and self-righteousness. Having compassion on whom we wanted to have compassion and putting ourselves in the seat of mercy or salvation. When I saw that I was being heralded for the kind of behavior I had always despised in others, I tore down the walls of piety, broke up with my boyfriend, and began a journey of deconstructing my spirituality. Holding my beliefs with an open hand instead of a swinging fist. My kind of people always existed on the fringes of society. In a true Christlike example, he who ate with the sinners and tax collectors, I find little good in 13
