For those of us raised in high-demand religious sects, we know how much we missed out on while we were busy worshipping Jesus every hour of every day, week in and week out. I spent the majority of my life deeply immersed in the teachings of the Bible and the machinations of the ministry. All told, I attended over 8,000 church services, revival meetings, youth rallies, and Bible conferences. At least three times a week for the first fifty years of my life, I could be found within the four walls of Bible-believing, Bible-preaching churches. I was a committed, devoted follower of Jesus, as was my partner, Polly. When we married in 1978, we made a commitment to follow Jesus all the days of our lives. Our children were born into and lived in a home where Evangelical Christianity permeated everything we did. This is not to say that Polly and I were perfect Christians. We were not. Both of us sinned, and, on occasion, grievously so. That said, the bent of our lives was towards holiness, without which, the Bible says, “no man shall see the Lord.”
The Bible — my interpretation of it, anyway — was the foundation of our family. Thus, there were a lot of things we didn’t or couldn’t do because of our beliefs. This means we missed out on doing many of the things — good, bad, and indifferent — our peers did. Polly, in particular, lived a sheltered life, attending an Evangelical Christian high school. I was more worldly in the sense that I attended a large public high school and was more exposed to the world than she was. That said, Jesus, the Bible, and the church were the sum of our lives until we were in our late 40s.
Polly will turn sixty-seven in October, and I turned sixty-eight in June. Both of us are on the short side of life; I, in particular, with all the health problems I have. As we reflect on our pasts, we can’t help but regret missing out on so much of life. In recent years, we’ve decided to do some of the things we were forbidden from doing. Our only rule these days is this: we are free to do whatever we want to do. No God or Bible to consult. All that matters is whether we want to do something, and if we can afford it, off we go, experiencing and enjoying what little life we have left.
This is especially true when it comes to music. Over the past three years, we have attended numerous “secular” concerts, so much so that several workers at one venue know us by name. So far this year, we have heard (main acts):
- Girl Named Tom
- The Fray
- Augustana
- 1985 (a tribute band)
- Fleetwood Mac Tribute Band
- Buffalo Rose
- Parmalee
- Four Horsemen (Metallica Tribute Band)
- Dorothy
- Redferrin
In October, we plan to see Killer Queen (a tribute band) at The Clyde Theater in Fort Wayne and Seether, Daughtry, and POD at the Michigan Lottery Amphitheatre in Sterling Heights, Michigan. In November, a Blackstone Cherry concert is on the schedule, as is One Dark Night (a Halloween-themed concert, theatrical production). You might think that we are attending a lot of concerts — and we are — but consider how limited I am physically. I can walk short distances with a cane, but anything more than that requires a wheelchair. Fortunately, we have found three music venues that are ADA-friendly; places where we aren’t stuck in a back corner somewhere, out of sight, out of mind. Besides, we have eclectic music tastes. We love live music, so we are to be found at everything from country to heavy metal concerts.
Are you a former member of a high-demand religion that put onerous requirements on how you lived your life? How has your life changed? Have you experienced things now that you missed out on in your Christian days? Please share your experiences in the comment section.
Bruce Gerencser, 68, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 47 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen 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.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.
I recommend the Ark in Ann Arbor (not a Christian club despite the name, focuses on folk and songwriter music). Well set up for the disabled, with elevator. There are special seating areas for wheelchairs, and they’re close to the stage; if there’s a line, they let you in first.
That’s where we heard Augustana, Girl Named Tom, and Buffalo Rose. Awesome venue. We’ve been there about a dozen times. Not a bad seat in the house. ADA seating is on the front row, literally a few feet from the stage. We hope to hear the Tartan Terrors later this year.
Only negative is parking, especially ADA parking. We have to get there early to get decent parking. Do you have a favorite restaurant in Ann Arbor you like to go to?
BTW, the elevator was out the last time we were there. Staff carried my wheelchair to the venue as I slowly navigated the stairs. Awesome people!
I don’t miss music. I listened to what I wanted regardless of what people said, it fell into one of those grey areas for my otherwise very religions and strict father. It would have been nice to attend more concerts but.. oh well.
However, I did literally deny myself and struggle with not being allowed to be the person I truly am. Looking back, it was worse than I realized. It has caused endless problems and struggles in life. Thankfully I escaped the chains and bondage of christianity and am free to live life as I should, and as I was created. Sure, many people want to eradicate me, but, fuck them, I am here and they can just deal with it.
Boy oh boy did we ever have dos and don’ts. And because of that, we are now enjoying all the great 80s movies that we missed back then.