Most people would agree that they desire purpose, meaning, and happiness in their lives. While these terms can and are defined and used in various ways, I think it is safe to say that most of us want to live a good life while on this mortal coil.
Sadly, millions of Evangelicals believe that only Jesus gives them meaning, purpose, and happiness in their lives. Without Jesus, their lives have no value. Without Jesus, they are but brute sinners deserving eternal punishment and suffering in a lake filled with fire and brimstone. This is what they are told by Evangelical preachers, anyway. Congregants are reminded that their existence depends on Jesus — the second person in the Godhead. They are reminded that most humans are headed for a Christless Hell; that atheists, agnostics, humanists, Buddhists, Muslims, pagans, and others live aimless, helpless, hopeless lives on their slog towards eternity. Never mind the fact that how these people live their lives are repudiations of Evangelical lies about them. Evidence suggests that unbelievers can and do have happy, fulfilling lives without Jesus. Making their own purpose and meaning in life, non-Evangelicals live life on their own terms, often understanding that the journey is far more important than the destination. When gaining Heaven or avoiding Hell is no longer the grand objective, it’s amazing how much more satisfying life can become.
As a certified atheist and humanist, I struggle greatly every day of my life. There’s no escaping pain, suffering, and death, so while I am among the living, I intend to live life to its fullest, even if “fullest” means some days brushing my teeth, eating a bit, and resting. Every day I hope to write, but all the hope in the world doesn’t change the suffering that often keeps my pen in the proverbial inkwell. Thus, living life to its fullest, for me, is on any given day, is doing what I can. Anyone who struggles with chronic pain and suffering understands where I am coming from. To loosely quote the Bible, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Years ago, my Independent Fundamentalist Baptist mother-in-law would tell me that I just needed to put mind over matter. I would bristle when she said such nonsense. My partner eventually got her mother to understand that when I said things like “I can’t” or “I need to rest” or “my pain is off the charts today” or “I’m too nauseous to eat” I was stating the fact of the matter. When I can’t, I can’t. That should be enough for people, but sometimes the people closest to you think if they just cheer you up or encourage you to do more, that you will suddenly arise from near death and clear your to-do list. This, of course, is fanciful, and, at times, hurtful thinking.
At whatever point I find myself in life, I try to live a meaningful life. I recognize and understand that I am on the short side of life. Death stalks me, reminding me that before I know it, I will be his. I long ago determined that I would not quietly go into the dark night. I will do what I can, write what I can, trying to be the best possible person I can possibly be. It matters how we die, so I want to die openly and honestly. cherishing every moment until that day comes. To suggest that my life has no meaning, purpose, or happiness is not only absurd, it’s offensive. I have never said such a thing to a person. If you need Jesus, religion, or the church to make it through life, fine. I don’t give a shit. Just leave me alone. I don’t need Jesus, your religion, and or your club. Why is it that Evangelicals rarely, if ever, grant me the same space to freely live my life? Instead, they feel obligated to tell me how worthless I am or how I will soon spend eternity being tortured by God.To what end, I ask? I know all I need to know about Evangelical Christianity. I know what the Bible says about me. I don’t need believers to remind me of these things. Few Evangelicals seem willing to live and let people live, content to let non-Christians live their lives on their own terms. Surely, this is not too much to ask.
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.
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