1971-72 found me attending ninth grade at Central Junior High School in Findlay, Ohio. This was a rough year for me. In the space of a year, my parents divorced, I contracted mumps and chicken pox, and had my first major health problem — unexplained joint swelling, especially in my elbows and feet, which was attributed to “growing pains.”
My parents soon married new people. My dad married a nineteen-year-old girl with a baby, and my mom married her first cousin, a recent parolee from a Texas prison. Life as I knew it was over. A few months later, Dad moved us to Tucson, Arizona, hoping to avoid bill collectors.
In the fall of my tenth-grade year, I went through a short period of rebellion — Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB)-style.
I started dressing down for church, often wearing combat boots, jeans, and white t-shirts to church.
I moved from the front of the church to the back of the church. This allowed me to avoid the critical eye of church pastors. Until it didn’t. One Sunday, Dr. Russell Anderson — of Anderson-Hyles College fame — was preaching at Trinity Baptist Church in Findlay — the church I continued to attend after my parents divorced. On this day, I was sitting in the far back of the church with my friends. We were whispering, passing notes, and horsing around. Our behavior caught Anderson’s attention. He decided the slim, athletic, six-foot redhead was the instigator, and publicly called me out, thinking I would start paying attention to his droning sermon. I, of course, ignored him, and several minutes later, he stopped the service and asked one of the ushers, Ralph Ashcraft — who had two rebellious sons of his own — to sit next to me and straighten me out. This only fueled my anger and rebellion.
One Saturday, I was helping paint the church annex. One of the pastors came in, looked at my fine work, and proceeded to holler at me. I threw the roller in the paint pan and said, “Do it yourself, then.” This did not go over well. The senior pastor tattled on me, and soon the youth pastor tracked me down to let me know I couldn’t speak to THE pastor in such a manner.This continued to fuel my anger and rebellion.
Another weekend, I was hanging out my my friend Sonny. We decided to call a local tow company and have them tow away Sonny’s neighbor’s car. When asked for a phone number, Sonny gave them mine. Our prank failed, but a Findlay police officer was waiting to talk to me when I arrived home.
Later that year, Sonny and I stole his dad’s 1955 Chevrolet one night and took it for a joy ride, including turfing numerous yards. Our exploits made the local newspaper. Fortunately, we were never caught.
In the fall, the church held a youth group hayride at Bob and Bonnie Bolander’s home. As I was sitting there with a group of my friends, dressed in stylish my boots, jeans, and t-shirt, Bob came to where we were sitting and gave us stern instructions. I proceeded to tell him, in glorious rebellious fashion to “fuck off.” That didn’t go well, but it did give me street credit with my homies.
It should have been evident that I was struggling. I was a hurting kid whose parents had destroyed his life. Not one pastor or congregant paid much attention to me, even though the church had become my new family. No one asked how I was feeling or what they could do for me. People weren’t mean; they were indifferent.
And then one night EVERYTHING changed. In a moment, my rebellion disappeared, and God wonderfully saved me. Two weeks later, I confessed before the church that God was calling me to preach. For the next thirty-five years, I devoted myself to loving, following, and worshiping Jesus. I spent twenty-five of those years pastoring Evangelical churches full-time in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. I was a true-blue follower of Jesus, until I wasn’t. In 2008, I left Christianity. I am now a rebellious atheist and humanist.
Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 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.
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.
Want to Respond to Bruce? Fire Away! If You Are a First Time Commenter, Please Read the Comment Policy Located at the Top of the Page.