Unlearning Your Fear of God (and Your Need to Defend God)
When I began deconstructing, I was scared. Not of letting go of my beliefs—but of what God might think about it. What if I was wrong? What if I made God mad? What if I ended up in hell?
Apologetics
Early on in my faith, I was introduced to a concept called apologetics—which, as I was told, didn’t mean anyone was saying sorry.
It meant “a defense.” A defense of God’s existence. A defense of Jesus’ claims. A defense of my particular version of Christianity.
And I took that seriously.
I was taught that it wasn’t enough to believe in God or Jesus.
I had to be able to defend them.
There was even a verse for it—“Always be prepared to give an answer to anyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” (1 Peter 3:15)
So the pressure was on. God needed a PR team. I signed up.
One of the first arguments I remember being handed was from C.S. Lewis. I loved Lewis then—and still do. His fiction shaped my imagination. His writing on suffering and faith meant a lot to me. But even good thinkers can have bad arguments.
Lewis’s most famous apologetic is something called The Trilemma.
It goes like this:
“Jesus claimed to be God. So he’s either a liar (he knew it wasn’t true), a lunatic (he believed something false), or Lord (he was right). You only have those three options.”
It’s a tidy little argument. And for a while, it worked for me.
But it has problems.
Plenty of scholars argue that Jesus never actually made those direct claims about divinity. The idea that he went around saying “I am God” is more of a modern assumption than a first-century historical fact. And even if he did claim that, it’s possible he meant it differently than how we’d interpret it today.
Lewis left out another option—or several. Maybe Jesus was a spiritual teacher whose words were exaggerated or misunderstood. Maybe his followers reinterpreted things after the resurrection stories began spreading. Maybe something else entirely.
I’m not saying I know what happened. I’m saying it’s not as simple as “Liar, Lunatic, or Lord.”
My Own Trilemma
When I began deconstructing, I was scared. Not of letting go of my beliefs—but of what God might think about it.
What if I was wrong?
What if I made God mad?
What if I ended up in hell?
So I came up with my own Trilemma—something I could hold onto while I asked dangerous questions. I’m not saying it may not have holes in it as well. But, it worked for me. It still does.
Here it is:
1. Maybe there is no God.
In which case, I’m just thinking hard about my existence. No judgment. No wrath. Just curiosity. If God doesn’t exist, then God won’t mind.
2. Maybe God exists—but is cruel, insecure, and punishes honest doubt.
In this version, God demands you believe specific things—but also made those beliefs incredibly confusing and contradictory. This is the God who sends people to eternal torment for picking the wrong team. If that God is real… I’m probably already screwed. And I’m not sure I want an eternity with that God anyway.
3. Maybe God exists—and is good.
This God knows how hard it is to untangle all this. This God values integrity over certainty. This God sees me trying. And grace covers the rest. Even, perhaps, if I end up not believing in this God at all.
I eventually realized: only one of those options is compatible with the idea of a God worth loving.
And if that’s the real God? Then I’m safe to keep asking. Safe to be unsure. Safe to take the journey.
Why This Matters
I know some of you are deconstructing with fear hanging over your shoulder.
Fear of getting it wrong.
Fear of divine punishment.
Fear that asking questions might separate you from God forever.
I get it.
But here’s what I want to say:
If God exists, and God is good,
then asking hard questions is not a threat.
Your integrity matters. Your honesty matters.
And if God doesn’t want your questions…
Then maybe it’s not the real God you were taught to fear.
So keep going.
You’re not sinning by thinking.
You’re not in danger for being honest.
You’re on a sacred journey—and you’re not alone.
And one last thing…
That verse I quoted earlier—the one that says, “Always be prepared to give an answer…”?
Turns out, Peter likely didn’t even write it.
Most scholars agree it was penned decades later by someone using his name.
So yeah—
It wasn’t even Peter asking you to be part of God’s PR department.
Just somebody pretending to be him.
And honestly?
That guy probably owes us all a real apology.
I just wrote about my own struggles with "is this God thing even real?" And trying to wrestle through the fear. Thank you for this framework.
I also decided, I just simply like the version of myself who lives as though everyone is loved by God, including me. That's worth it to me.
The C.S. Lewis argument also fell short for me, but many found it appealing. The main issue I had with Lewis' argument and apologetics was that it failed to address the morality of the cross and the doctrine of substitutionary atonement. Was Christianity an Iron Age human sacrifice cult? Sorry if that offends you. The death of Christ is central to Christianity (at least it was), and most rituals that the church performed involved this depiction/remembrance of a crucified "god" tortured to appease an angry deity. If God was good, this was a poor example of His goodness.
I was taught this doctrine as a child: Jesus died for my sins. And no one thought about the moral problems with this or with the cannibalistic focus of the Eucharist. I remember seeing a play at Easter about the crucifixion, and I had nightmares. I was deeply troubled as a child by the depiction. But no one, not even my mother, considered it a problem. Parents took their children to see Gibson's Passon of the Christ, the most violent and disturbing film I had seen, aside from Schindler's List.
I think it is hard to unlearn a fear of God when the Christian God is depicted as one who requires human blood to appease his anger for sin.