Recently, my friend and longtime reader ObstacleChick (OC) left the following comment:
I was one of those “saved” kids who had to bite the bullet and give in to being saved. How could I have chosen otherwise?
There I was, 12 years old, in a home where my grandpa was chairman of deacons at a Southern Baptist church, grandma was Sunday school and women’s missionary union teacher as well as in the choir, my stepdad had recently been baptized as an adult to make my mom happy and because his infant baptism in Lutheran church didn’t count, and within the past year I had been sent to a fundamentalist Christian school where we were daily indoctrinated.
Oh, I had tons of questions and doubts, and there was a lot about salvation and hell that seemed unfair to me. But I felt I had no choice but to do it – go down front and get baptized. My family kept bugging me that I needed to “make a profession of faith”. Most of the other 12-year-olds had been or were scheduled to be baptized. Every church service and every chapel service at school ended in an altar call.
Literally, what choice did 12-year-old ObstacleChick have? I had already been shut down at church for asking hard questions. At school, my grades were tied to giving the correct answers, so there was no room for questions. My entire family accepted that This Was The Way – The Only Way. The only other way was ostracized, punishment, eternal hell.
I regret that I was brought up this way. I suffered from this religion. I am so glad I was able to come out of it before subjecting my children to it. As young adults, they can make their own choices, as they should.
Speaking of her childhood indoctrination and conditioning in a Southern Baptist congregation and devoutly Christian family, OC asks, “What choice did 12-year-old ObstacleChick have?” This, of course, is a rhetorical question. OC didn’t have a choice. Everything in her life was focused on OC making THE decision. People not raised in Southern Baptist and Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) congregations don’t understand the pressure children and teens face to convert. Virtually every day, young OC was reminded that she wasn’t saved, that she was headed for Hell unless she repented and asked Jesus to save her. Is it a shocker that she finally got saved?
And after she finally sealed the deal with Jesus? More pressure. More pressure to read the Bible, pray, attend church every time the doors were open, and keep all the rules, regulations, and edicts to the letter. And if she didn’t? God’s (and the church’s and her family’s) judgment and chastisement awaited her. Is it any surprise that OC is an unbeliever today?
My life took a similar track as OC’s — with a few differences. Unlike OC, I didn’t have any questions or doubts. I was all in. Whatever my pastor, youth pastor, Sunday school teacher, and visiting preachers said, I believed. I was a perfect target for “God” calling me into the ministry. I was saved at the age of fifteen, and for the next thirty years or so, I was a true-blue believer; God said it, I believe it, and that settles it for me. My life was set in motion the day my far-right parents walked into Scott Memorial Baptist Church in San Diego in the early 60s and got saved. My path was steady and sure until decades later I pondered THE question: what if I am wrong?
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
I religiously follow a number of Evangelical blogs and news sites. Of late, there has been a lot of talk on these sites about the Asbury University RevivalĀ® and the subject of “revival” in general. Even non-Christian sites have published articles and opinion pieces about Asbury and revival. While it would be tempting to say that all this coverage is a sign that something important is going on, I suspect it is more likely that the coverage is more car-wreck interest than honest reporting on an alleged supernatural move of God among primarily Evangelical college students. With the recent release of Jesus Revolution, a movie that details the alleged grassroots revival among hippies and college students in the 1970s, some are suggesting that the current revival is the grandchild of the 1970s Jesus People revival.
As an atheist, I reject the notion that what is going on at Asbury, other Christian colleges, and even some state schools, is a supernatural work of God. Suggesting this idea is true is is a claim that cannot be verified. It is, at best, a faith claim, and when it comes to matters of faith, no empirical evidence will be forthcoming. I can suggest, however, what is fueling the revival and why some college students are so receptive to its messages and methodologies.
Every generation of young adults faces challenges and struggles as they attempt to find their place in society. I came of age in the 1970s. I remember the struggles I had trying to make my way in life, especially when Polly and I married and we had our first child. I had wants, needs, and desires, and these often conflicted with societal demands and expectations. Every generation goes through these struggles, but the struggles of present young adults seem to be unprecedented in some regards.
The United States is increasingly becoming a secular people, while at the same time Evangelicals, conservative Catholics, Mormons, Trumpists, and one of our major political parties wage what they believe is a “holy” war against secularism, liberalism, abortion, LGBTQ rights, and a host of other red meat issues. The latest culture war has now reached a fever pitch. We now have states and local governments banning books, outlawing clothing, criminalizing abortion, banning instruction on race, interjecting Evangelical Christianity into schools and government institutions, and attacking, condemning, and even banning certain behavior between consenting adults. In Florida and Texas, in particular, we see firsthand what happens Evangelicals gain the power of the state. Governor Ron DeSantis is a proud fascist, a man who has every intention of turning Florida into a Christian theocracy. My God, he is waging war against Mickey Mouse! Donald Trump is a buffoon and an idiot. DeSantis, on the other hand, is one of the most dangerous politicians in America.
Caught in the middle of this culture war that is largely fueled and promoted by their parents and grandparents, are millions of young adults. Generally more liberal and progressive than their parents, many young adults are worried about their future prospects. Throw in worries about climate change, health care, job security, student loan debt, inflation, and increased costs for housing and transportation, and young adults have a lot on their proverbial plates. Their angst over these things has led to increased substance abuse and mental health issues. These things make them more vulnerable to people, institutions, and movements who tell them that they have THE answer to their angst, and that answer is JESUS.
Young adults raised in Evangelical churches are taught that the Bible has all the answers to life’s questions and Jesus is all one needs to have a successful, fulfilled life. He is the cure for whatever ails you. Sunday after Sunday, youth meeting after youth meeting, this thinking is drilled into their heads. Not taught rational inquiry and skepticism, young adults are indoctrinated and conditioned in ways that promote certainty, conformity, and compliance. Everything they know about the bad, evil, sinful world they learned at church.
As long as young adults stay in the Evangelical box, all is well. Everything makes “sense.” Everything is internally consistent. However, there comes a day when young adults must leave the boxed-in walls of safety provided to them for eighteen to twenty years by their parents, pastors, and church families. Many of these young adults were either homeschooled or attended private Christian schools; places where the theological beliefs and practices of their parents and pastors are repeatedly reinforced. Some of these young adults graduate and enroll in classes at a Christian university or college. Again, the goal of these post-secondary institutions is to reinforce what students have already been taught; to keep them in church, and educate the next generation of culture warriors.
What happens, however, is that once young adults arrive at their next stop in the Evangelical indoctrination program, they find that they are free from the control of their parents, pastors, and churches. Young, full-of-life adults, with raging hormones and desires, find themselves in circumstances where they can imbibe in the things of the world; the world that their parents and preachers taught them was evil. And so they enjoy life, that is until preachers at chapel, professors, and parachurch ministry leaders on campus make them feel guilty over their newfound freedom.
These gatekeepers try to get these young adults to return to the safety of the Evangelical box. The goal is to keep young adults from wandering in the world and enjoying the pleasures of the flesh. One way they use is “revival.” Evangelical young adults feel guilty over their “sins.” How could they not? They have spent their entire young lives being beaten over the head with the “sin stick.” They carry in their minds long lists of prohibited behaviors. Yet, try as they might to behave otherwise, they love and enjoy participating in “worldly,” verboten conduct. In their minds they sing Debby Boone’s seminal hit, You Light Up My life: it can’t be wrong when it feels so right.
My wife, Polly, and I attended Midwestern Baptist College in Pontiac, Michigan in the 1970s. Midwestern had strict rules governing student conduct, much like the churches we came from. Yet, we had freedom, albeit a guilty one. The rules forbade personal physical contact with the opposite sex. Most dating students, however, broke this rule. Some even engaged in premarital sex. Why? I know for Polly and me personally, the thrill of intimate physical contact far outweighed the threat of punishment for breaking Midwestern’s puritanical rules. The fear of getting caught and expelled only added to the thrill of the stolen kiss and other physical contact. You know, like the thrill of hotel sex or a moonlight romp on the beach. Yes, there were times when we talked about stopping our necking and rule-breaking. Sermons at church and daily chapel services made us feel guilty about our “sin.” What was normal human behavior had been deemed sinful and evil. When we would become overwhelmed with guilt, we would repent and promise God that we would not touch each other until our wedding day. Of course, the next date and the proximity to each other put an end to the promise we made to God. The road to Baptist Hell is paved with good intentions. When Polly was close by, God was no match for her beauty and charm.
I suspect what is going on among students at Asbury University and other Christian institutions of higher learning is angst about their place in an ever-changing, unsettled world and guilt over not measuring up to the moral standards of their parents, pastors, and church congregations. Into their uneasiness and inner turmoil come preachers armed with Bible verses, well-crafted sermons, and heart-wrenching illustrations, along with emotionally charged praise and worship music. These things tap into the students’ lifelong conditioning and indoctrination, giving birth to what Evangelicals are calling “revival.”
While the spiritual renewal is real and sincere (I, myself, have experienced revival numerous times as an Evangelical Christian and pastor), I suspect students will, in time, learn that revival is like a bath. Good at the time, but it doesn’t last. Once the thrill of revival recedes into the backdrop of life — and it most certainly will, as all revivals do — young adults will still have to figure out how to make their way through this thing we call life. Where they go from here is on them, not God or a temporary dopamine hit. Hopefully, they will take a hard look at how their parents, pastors, churches, and college parachurch leaders indoctrinated and conditioned them in hope of keeping them on the Evangelical straight and narrow. There is a better way.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Thousands of the readers of this blog are former Evangelicals; devout Christians who devoted their lives to God and the church; people who were saved, sanctified, Holy Ghost-filled followers of Jesus. While many of these people have left Christianity altogether, others have tried to find ways to hang onto their faith. Regardless of where they are presently, most of them struggle as they try to reconcile their Evangelical past, with its attendant beliefs, practices, and behaviors, with the people they have now become. I know for me personally, when I look at my past as an Evangelical pastor and a proponent of strict patriarchalism, I have a hard time reconciling my two very different lives. I struggle with guilt over my past life; the things I said and did. I was abusive, arrogant, and self-righteous. I psychologically, and, at times, physically harmed my wife, our six children, and the people who lovingly called me “preacher.” A decade of counseling hasn’t been able to rid me of the guilt I feel over the past. I suspect many of you know exactly what I am talking about.
The question I am focused on these days is why? Why did I become the man, husband, father, and preacher that I did? While the answers to this question are complex, I have concluded that my beliefs and behavior as an Evangelical husband, father, and preacher can be traced back to indoctrination and conditioning. I was raised in an Evangelical home, attended Evangelical churches for fifty years, trained for the ministry at an Evangelical college, married an Evangelical pastor’s daughter, and spent twenty-five years of my life pastoring Evangelical churches. How could I have not turned out exactly as I did? I was surrounded by family, preachers, and professors who reinforced my beliefs; beliefs that were rarely, if ever, challenged. The indoctrination and conditioning were such that I never doubted or questioned my beliefs. It is a miracle that my wife and I are atheists today. Everything militated against a loss of faith, yet somehow, some way, questions and doubts crept in. I know that it is rare for someone like me to deconvert. Am I special? Nope. If anything I’m lucky. By all accounts, I should still be preaching the gospel, winning souls, and pastoring an Evangelical church. Yet, here I am, a godless heathen. Go figure. š
When I interact with devout Evangelicals on this site, I try to remember that I was once just like them. I know they have a hard time believing this to be true, but I can confidently say that had they known me in the 1980s or 1990s they would have considered me a man of God, a faithful preacher of the good news. They might even have joined my church.
I find myself in a somewhat unique position. I have been on both sides of aisle: devout Evangelical pastor, out-and-proud atheist. This allows me to have a perspective other people may not have. Many of you have similar unique perspectives. Hopefully, these experiences give us compassion for people who are still immersed in Evangelicalism. “Such were some of you,” the Bible says. It’s easy to become annoyed and irritated by Evangelical zealots. I know I have an increasingly short temper with God’s chosen ones. I have to remind myself, “Bruce you were once just like them. Be patient. Be kind. Be that still small voice in their heads.”
Religious indoctrination and conditioning cause untold heartache and harm. For those of us who have been delivered from Evangelicalism, we must give the Evangelicals we interact with the space to see the “light.” That’s not to say that some Evangelicals aren’t so deeply corrupted that it’s impossible to reach them. No amount of interaction with them will change their minds. The Revival Fires, Derrick Thiessens, and Kent Hovinds of the world are too far gone. They have committed the unpardonable sin. There’s no hope for them. We must be careful, however, to not treat other Evangelicals as we do Revival Fires, Thiessen, and Hovind. To quote the Apostle Paul, we must become all things to all men, so that by all means we might save some. If our goal is to reach Evangelicals who have been deeply indoctrinated and conditioned, we must be loving, patient, and kind. We must, even when they don’t, evidence the fruit of the Spirit in our godforsaken lives — love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
The path to the Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) pulpit takes many roads. Some IFB preachers had a crisis in their adult lives, got saved, felt the call of God to the ministry, went to Bible college, and then started pastoring a church. Men with substance abuse problems or horn dog tendencies sometimes take this path. I met a number of preachers who were alcoholics or drug addicts before entering the ministry. Others were fornicators and adulterers who thought the ministry would cure them of their sexual urges. As you might imagine, some of these men found that Jesus was no match for their libido.
Other IFB preachers were “backslidden,” got right with God, felt the call of God to the ministry, went to Bible college, and then started pastoring a church. My father-in-law was one such man. At the age of thirty-five, Dad felt God telling him that he had one last chance to get right with God and enter the ministry. Dad heeded God’s call, quit his ten-year job on the railroad, and moved to Pontiac, Michigan to attend Midwestern Baptist College. Four years later, Dad graduated from Midwestern and spent the next few decades working in God’s vineyard as an evangelist, assistant pastor, pastor, and leading church services for nursing homes.
Some men follow either of these roads, except they skip the college part, entering the ministry without any formal training. The only theological training some IFB preachers have is that they can read the King James Bible. Some of the worst preaching I ever heard was by men who thought college and reading any other book but the KJV was unnecessary — a waste of time. These men believe all they need is the Holy Spirit. Years ago, I heard one such man at an IFB church in Lancaster, Ohio. This man thought preaching was reading the text, going verse by verse, and sharing his personal opinion.
Many IFB preachers were what I call seed-to-harvest preachers. These men were raised in IFB homes, attended IFB churches, were active in IFB youth groups, and were either homeschooled or attended IFB schools. After being saved, often as a child, getting baptized, rededicating their lives as teenagers, and acknowledging the call of God on their lives, these young men left home to study for the ministry at IFB or IFB friendly schools such as Bob Jones University, Pensacola Christian College, Crown College of the Bible, Baptist Bible College, Midwestern Baptist College, Hyles-Anderson College, West Coast Baptist Bible College, Trinity Baptist College, Maranatha Baptist University, Heartland Baptist Bible College, Golden State Baptist Bible College, Faith Baptist Bible College, along with a plethora of church-based Bible institutes. All of these schools exist for the express purpose of preparing men to pastor IFB churches. They may offer other programs, but their focus is on training the next generation of “preacher boys” (and providing women for them to marry).
Seed-to-harvest preachers are typically born to devout IFB parents. Their lives are dominated by the church. I can’t emphasize this point enough. My parents were saved at an IFB church in San Diego, California when I was five. From that time forward, I was in church every time the doors were open: Sunday school, Sunday morning, Sunday evening, youth group, midweek service, revivals, conferences, special prayer meetings, visitation, bus visitation, youth rallies, special youth events, and vacation Bible school. I also played on the church’s softball and basketball teams. When “work days” at the church were announced, I was there. After my call to the ministry, I would skip school so I could attend the Ohio Baptist Bible Fellowship meetings that were held at the church I was attending at the time.
Socially, most of my friends belonged to the same church as I did. Playing sports did allow me the opportunity to have “worldly” friends, but all of my close friends were fellow church members. I only dated “likeminded” girls; girls who either attended the same church I did or attended other IFB churches. I never dated anyone outside of the church. (Such relationships were frowned upon. Be not unequally yoked with the world, the Bible says.)
While I attended a public school, many seed-to-harvest preachers are either homeschooled or attend a Christian school. It is in these settings that these preachers-to-be are deeply indoctrinated in the one true faith. My six children spent virtually every day of their lives in a world where everything revolved around God/Jesus/Bible/Church. The seed-to-harvest preacher spends most of his formative years immersed in the church and the Bible.
Seed-to-harvest preachers learned that being a preacher is best job in the world. They heard pastors tell them that was no greater job than preaching the gospel, saving souls, and building churches. I heard several preachers say that it would be a step down for them to become President.
Seed-to-harvest preachers quickly learned that being a preacher is a place of honor and prominence, a place of love and respect. They likely heard sermons imploring them to become pastors, missionaries, and evangelists. This thinking was reinforced by their youth pastors. Pastors often view “men called to the ministry” much as a gunslinger does after winning a gunfight. Every time a young man enters the ministry, pastors put another notch on their gospel gun. I’ve heard numerous preachers brag about how many men were called to preach under their ministry.
Now take a step back and look at what I have written. What do you see? Indoctrination. Conditioning. Manipulation. Young, impressionable men becoming a means to an end. My oldest son, Jason, was on the seed-to-harvest path. Everyone expected him to become an IFB preacher just like his father, grandfather, and great grandfather. In the spring of Jason’s senior year, he was accepted to study for the ministry at Pensacola Christian College. PCC offered free tuition for pastors’ children. Many IFB schools do the same, using the free tuition as a way to draw other students from the church to the college.
Jason began having doubts about his salvation. I found this strange because he was a rock-solid Christian, devoted to Jesus and the church. I remember sitting down with Jason and talking with him about his doubts. What I learned is that he felt pressured to join the family business; that he really didn’t want to be a preacher. As soon as I told him he didn’t have to be a preacher, his “doubts” disappeared. For years after, his IFB grandfather would publicly lament the fact that “Jake” didn’t become a preacher. While I was disappointed that he didn’t want to follow in my footsteps, I knew that the ministry wasn’t for everyone.
At the age of five, I told my mom that I wanted to be a preacher. I would gather the neighborhood kids together in the backyard and preach to them. At the age of fifteen, I was saved, baptized, and called to preach. Several weeks later, under the tutelage of Bruce Turner (please see Dear Bruce Turner), I preached my first sermon at the Sunday night youth group meeting. I would preach my last sermon thirty-three years later. All told, I preached over 4,000 sermons.
As I look at my life, I can see how my parents, pastors, and other Christians led me down the path that led to the pulpit. Everything in my life led to the ministry. While I worked numerous “secular” jobs over the years, I saw them as a means to an end, a way for me to make money so I could keep pastoring churches.
Could I have chosen another path? I doubt it. The indoctrination, conditioning, and control was such that I never even entertained a different path. After I married Polly, who was also raised in an IFB home, the die was set. It wasn’t until my late forties that I saw a different path for me. I left the ministry in 2005, and three years later, I left Christianity altogether. I have spent the past fourteen years charting a new path for my life, one where I am the captain, one where my choices are endless (within the constraints of my failing health and limited resources).
Were you a seed-to-harvest preacher? Does what I write in this post ring true to you? Please share your experiences in the comment section.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
