It’s been almost sixteen years since I walked out the doors of the Ney United Methodist Church, never to return. Not long after, I sent out my infamous letter, Dear Family, Friends, and Former Parishioners, to several hundred family members, friends, former church members, and colleagues in the ministry. For a time, I self-identified as an agnostic, but after months of “explaining” what I meant by the term, I decided to call myself an atheist. Strictly speaking, I am an agnostic atheist.
I naively believed that letter recipients would “understand” my deconversion; that they would appreciate hearing my story straight from my mouth, and not third and fourth hand as the Evangelical/IFB rumor mill raged. Boy, was I wrong. To the person, every one of them abandoned me, and many of them personally attacked me in letters, emails, and sermons. One former church member asked me to “explain,” but after I kindly and gently did so, she told me she could no longer be friends with me or talk to me. Another dear friend told me that he found my deconversion too unsettling to continue to be my friend. I saw nothing in their treatment of me that suggested they understood Jesus’ teachings on how to treat your “enemies” or how they should treat people in general. Their responses gave me a bird’s-eye view of how Evangelicals treat people who dare to leave their club. No kindness. No love. No compassion. No respect. Just judgment and condemnation.
Sixteen years later, I have only had one person walk back their words — a lifelong friend who said I was demon-possessed. That’s it. As for the rest of them, their words and behavior were un-Christian, to say the least. You would think that the Holy Spirit might have convinced them of their sins and called on them to apologize for their awful words. No apologies have been forthcoming. I concluded, then, that my former friends, family members, and parishioners believed that the teachings of Christ didn’t apply to them when it came to dealing with an Evangelical preacher-turned-atheist.
As a result, I lost my entire social network. Fifty years of relationships went up in smoke, and it is doubtful I will ever regain an atheist/agnostic/humanist version of what I lost. I paid a heavy price for daring to deconvert. I was penalized for being honest. Sixteen years on, Evangelicals continue to shit on my doorstep. I can’t remember the last time I received a polite, thoughtful, kind comment or email from an Evangelical Christian. Why is that?
I will never understand why people responded to me the way they did. I learned that my relationships were conditioned of me believing the right things. Even though we had lots of other things in common, all that mattered was shared religious beliefs. Once I said I no longer believed, I became their enemy. Yet, they treated me differently than they treated unsaved family, friends, and neighbors. I suspect they believe that I have committed the unpardonable sin or crossed the line of no return. How they could possibly know this is unknown. Evidently, I am no longer worthy of saving. 🙂
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.
Repost from 2015. Edited, rewritten, and corrected.
For those of us who spent a significant part of our lives in the Christian church, our eventual defection from Christianity was an important and traumatic event in our lives. People who are still devoted followers of Jesus grossly underestimate the travail people go through when they finally come to a place where they realize God is Dead.
For years we sang praises to God. We prayed and read God’s sacred Word. We devoted our time, talent, and money to the advancement of God’s kingdom.
We were not nominal believers. When the doors of the church were open, we were there. For those of us who were pastors, everything was secondary to our devotion to the work of the ministry. With great gusto we sang, “Souls for Jesus is our battle cry. Souls for Jesus is our battle cry. We never will give in while souls are lost in sin. Souls for Jesus is our battle cry.”
When we sang songs like All to Jesus I Surrender, we meant it. No part of our lives was untouched by our zeal, love, and devotion to Jesus, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
When evangelists called for people to come forward to pray, we were the first people down front on our knees before God.
We counted the cost and Jesus was worth it. We were, in every way, true-blue, on-fire, Holy Ghost-filled, sanctified slaves of Jesus.
The Bible said that we were the Bride and Jesus was the Bridegroom. We were happily married to Jesus. He was our best friend, our confidante, and lover. No one compared to Jesus. He was the sum of our existence.
And then one day, perhaps years of days, we found ourselves separated or divorced from the God we had loved and served. Irreconcilable differences were the official cause of our divorce.
The journey . . . We spent so much time talking about our destination that we spent little time discussing our journey. Now, all we seem to talk about is the journey we are on.
The journey takes us away from all that is familiar. All the trappings of our life with God become more distant as we walk, perhaps run, farther and farther away.
For many of us, we eventually reached a place where, to our utter surprise, we found out that God was dead.
Few ponder this thought without shedding tears and lamenting the loss.
Well-meaning Christians earnestly implore us to trace back our steps to that place where we lost our first love. They tell us God will not chase us, but if we will only return home our marriage can be saved and all will be forgiven.
But it is too late.
For us, the God of Christianity is dead, and like all of the many ideas shaped by human hands, this God can’t be resurrected from the dead.
We lament what we have lost, but we are hopeful about that which we have gained.
It took the death of God for us to realize that life, this life, is worth living.
We refuse to surrender one more moment of time to a God made by humans; a deaf, dumb, and blind God who only exists in the imaginations of men who can’t bear the thought of this life being all there is.
But what about the God that is not made by man?
For the atheist, such a God does not exist. All gods are human inventions.
For the agnostic, for the deist, God remains a possibility, but in practice, even this God shows little or no life.
So on we go down an uncertain, but exciting, road.
Who knows what the future may hold. With no holy book, preacher, or God to lead the way, we are left with a wide-open road littered with the potholes of uncertainty. Uncertainty may, at times, cause us to fear, but we are also excited about the possibilities uncertainty brings.
Some day, perhaps today, tomorrow, or twenty years from now, we will face the ugly, unwelcome specter of death. As the COVID-19 virus stalks the human race, death seem all too close and real for us all.
Will we go to the grave with as much certainty as a person who believes that a life of eternal bliss awaits all who love God?
Will we be tempted, as our breath grows labored, to offer a feeble prayer to the God who died?
Will our final moments be those of integrity and commitment to what we said we believed?
Will we prove in death that what we believed was good enough to live by and good enough to die by?
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.
Originally posted in February 2015. Edited, updated, and expanded.
Jason, an Evangelical Christian, asked:
What would cause someone with your Biblical education and years of preaching the Word of God not just claiming to be a Christian but also living it one day decide to not believe and do a 180 and turn your back on it?
While I deal with this question at length in the From Evangelicalism to Atheism series, today I want to give a short, condensed answer to this question.
People like Jason are often perplexed by how it possible for someone with my background and training to one day walk away the ministry and Christianity. Most of the clergy who deconvert do so at a much younger age, often in their 20s and 30s. In my case, I spent fifty years in the Christian church and I pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years before I deconverted. When I started going to counseling, my counselor told me that it was quite rare for someone my age and with my experience to walk away from a lifetime of belief and work. It happens, just not very often.
Jason is not alone. A number of my ex-friends, former ministerial colleagues, family members, and former parishioners can’t understand how it is possible that the man they called Preacher or Pastor is now an atheist. Often they cannot or will not believe the reasons I give for my deconversion. Instead, they try to divine some other reason to explain why Bruce Gerencser, the man of God, the pastor, the preacher, their colleague in the ministry, is now an apostate, an enemy of God. “Is there some secret past I am hiding, some secret sin,” they ask themselves? They wonder if I have mental health problems, that I am “unstable.” They rack their brains trying to come up with a plausible explanation, anything but accepting the reasons I give for my deconversion.
Christian Fundamentalism taught me to stand firm on my beliefs and convictions. When I was a pastor, people appreciated and applauded my willingness to resolutely defend my beliefs and convictions. But now that I do the same with atheism, humanism, and liberal politics, they think there must be some other reason I drastically changed my mind and life. Let me be clear, I am the same man, someone who thinks that beliefs matter.
My mother taught me, from my youth up, that it was important to stand up for what you believe. Now, this doesn’t mean that I am not now tolerant of the beliefs of others, because I am. As I get older, I realize that tolerance is an important virtue. Stepping outside of the box in which I spent most of my life, I have found a rich, diverse, and contradictory world that continues to challenge me and force me to be more accepting and tolerant.
When I entered kindergarten I could already read. My book-loving mother taught me to read, and she developed in me an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. This may seem counter-intuitive at first, since I was raised in a Fundamentalist environment that is known for its ignorance. However, by becoming a proficient and avid reader, I had at my disposal countless opportunities to expand my knowledge. Sadly, my quest for knowledge became quite stunted as a pastor because I rarely read books that would conflict with my Evangelical beliefs. However, when I began to have doubts about Christianity and its teachings, my thirst for knowledge kicked into high gear and I began reading books that I once would have considered heretical.
I never made a lot of money pastoring churches. I never had church provided health insurance or a retirement plan. The only benefits I received were a check I got once a week IF the offerings were sufficient to pay me (all too often, they were not). Outside of the time I spent pastoring Community Baptist Church in Elmendorf, Texas, every other church I pastored paid a part-time or poverty-level wage for the full-time work I gave the church. I often worked outside of the church, as did Polly when I pastored Our Father’s House in West Unity, Ohio. I am not pointing a judgmental finger at the churches I pastored. Most of the churches were either small or in poverty-ridden areas. Over the years, I was privileged to pastor many gracious, giving poor people. They gave what they could.
About now you are thinking, what in the world are you talking about, Bruce? I thought this post was about WHY you stopped believing? It is, and what I have written above can be distilled down to these three important statements:
I was taught to stand firm on my convictions and beliefs
I was taught to read at an early age and I developed a thirst for knowledge
I never made much money in the ministry
Since I never made much money in the ministry, there was no economic reason for me to stay in the ministry. I always made more money working outside of the church, so when I decided to leave the ministry, which I did three years before I deconverted, I suffered no economic consequences. In fact, life has gotten much better economically post-Jesus.
I decided I would go back to the Bible, study it again, and determine what it was I REALLY believed. During this time, I began reading books by authors such as Robert Wright, Elaine Pagels and Bart Ehrman, These three authors, along with several others, attacked the foundation of my Evangelical beliefs: the inerrancy and infallibility of the Bible. Their assault on this foundation brought my Evangelical house tumbling down. I desperately tried to find some semblance of the Christianity I once believed, but I came to realize that my faith was gone.
I tried, for a time, to convince myself that I could find some sort of Christianity that would work for me. Polly and I visited numerous liberal or progressive Christian churches, but I found that these expressions of faith would not do for me. My faith was gone. Later, Polly would come to the same conclusion.
I read many authors and books besides the ones listed here. I say this to keep someone from saying, but you didn’t read so and so or you didn’t read _______. So, if I had to give one reason WHY I am no longer a Christian today it would be BOOKS. My thirst for knowledge, a thirst I still have today, even though it is greatly hindered by chronic illness and pain, is what drove me to re-investigate the claims of Christianity and the teachings of the Bible. This investigation led me to conclude that the claims of Christianity and the teachings of the Bible could not rationally and intellectually be sustained. Try as I might to hang on to some sort of Christian faith, the slippery slope I found myself on would not let me stand still. Eventually, I found myself saying, I no longer believe in the Christian God. For a time, I was an agnostic, but I got tired of explaining myself, so I took on the atheist moniker, and now no one misunderstands what I believe. (see Dear Family, Friends, and Former Parishioners and Dear Friend)
The hardest decision I ever made in my life was that day in late November of 2008, when I finally admitted to myself, I am no longer a Christian, I no longer believe in the Christian God, I no longer believe the Bible is the Word of God. At that moment, everything I had spent my life believing and doing was gone. In a sense, I had an atheist version of a born-again experience. For the past sixteen years, I have continued to read, study, and write. I am still very much a work in progress. My understanding of religion and its cultural and sociological implications continues to grow. Now that I am free from the constraints of religion, I am free to wander the path of life wherever it may lead. Now that I am free to read what I want, I have focused my attention on history and science. While I continue to read books that are of a religious or atheist nature, I spend less and less time reading these kinds of books. I still read every new book Bart Ehrman publishes, along with the various Christian/atheist/humanist blogs and publications I read, and this is enough to keep me up-to-date with American Christianity and American atheism/humanism.
I hope this post adequately answers the question of WHY I stopped believing.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.
Many of my fellow atheists and agnostics have a hard time understanding why, exactly, people are religious. In particular, many godless people are befuddled by Evangelicals. How can anyone believe the Bible is inspired and inerrant; believe the earth was created in six twenty-four-hour days; believe the universe is 6,027 years old; believe Adam and Eve were the first human beings; believe the story of Noah and Ark really happened; believe that millions of Israelites wandered in desert for forty years, and believe a Jewish man named Jesus was a God-man who worked miracles, was executed on a Roman cross, and resurrected from the dead three days later. I could add numerous other mythical, fanciful, incredulous Bible stories to this list; all of which sound nonsensical to skeptical, rational people. Here we are living in 2024 — an age driven by technology and science — yet millions of Evangelicals and other conservative Christians flock to Kentucky to tour Ken Ham’s monuments to ignorance: the Ark Encounter and the Creation Museum. These same people helped to elect Donald Trump, the vilest, most unqualified man to ever sit in the Oval Office. Why is it that Evangelicals continue to believe, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary?
From a rational perspective, none of this makes any sense. Most Evangelicals have at least a high school education, and some of them have college degrees. Many of them are successful business owners, with more than a few of them amassing wealth most unbelievers covet. Many atheists and agnostics wrongly believe that the typical Evangelical is a poorly educated white hillbilly from Kentucky or Mississippi. Pan the crowds gathered at countless American Evangelical megachurches and you will find all the markings of well-off, educated people. Why, then, do Evangelicals believe the nonsense mentioned previously?
The best way to understand Evangelicalism is to view it from an economic cost-benefit perspective. Think of Evangelicalism as a club. To join the club, certain things are required. Every prospective club member must agree with the club’s stated principles and beliefs and pay annual dues to their local club. Once a prospective member publicly affirms the club’s stated principles and beliefs, undergoes a rite of initiation (baptism), and pays his annual dues, the prospect is granted entrance to the club. Membership in the club comes with several benefits:
Weekly instruction in the club’s principles and beliefs
Answers to life’s pressing questions
Classes for every age group, from infants to senior citizens
Opportunities for entertainment, often called fun, food, and fellowship
Access to counseling services
Wedding and funeral services
Support for conservative Christian social and political views
Bumper stickers, shirts, and other swag that advertise your membership in the club
Promises of forgiveness, happiness, and life after death
As long as these benefits outweigh the costs, people will continue to embrace Evangelical beliefs. Rationalists think that truth is all that should matter, and when it comes to truth, atheists/agnostics/humanists/skeptics/freethinkers have it, and Evangelicals don’t. True, but what do we offer besides truth? I’m waiting . . . Therein lies our problem. Yes, truth is on our side, but we lack appealing social structures (clubs), and, to many questioning/doubting Evangelicals, the cost of saying, “I am an atheist/agnostic” far outweighs the benefits. (Please see Count the Cost Before You Say I am an Atheist.) If we want to attract people to truth, to our cause, we must find ways to change the cost-benefit dynamic. “Dammit, Bruce, truth should be enough!” Yep, and I agree with you. Unfortunately, you and I are not like most people. “What’s in it for me?” many people ask. “What are the benefits of joining your club?” Fuss and fume all you want about this, but the fact remains that most people want to belong to things that benefit them; that give them something tangible.
As a pastor, I learned that people look for perceived value. Our church would sponsor a free concert with a contemporary Christian artist and fifty people would show up. Charge $5 admission for the same concert and hundreds of people would attend. Same artist, just a different perceived value. As long as Evangelicals think that the benefits of club membership outweigh the costs, they will continue to be members. Our goal should be to make rationalism and progressive politics appealing. We must develop social structures that advance the humanist ideal. And then, we must become the public face of our club, a face that says, “you are welcome here!” Constantly fighting with Evangelicals on social media does what exactly? Sure, it feels good to drown Evangelicals in seas of truth, but what have we gained? Engaging in shit-throwing contests on Twitter with Evangelical trolls might make for good entertainment and provide a brief dopamine rush, but what is really accomplished by doing so? In 2012, tens of thousands of atheists, agnostics, humanists, and freethinkers gathered on the National Mall for the Reason Rally. What an awesome moment, a coming-out party, of sorts. Twelve years have passed since this rally. What progress have we made towards coalescing into a credible, appealing club for likeminded people? If we truly want to give Evangelicalism the eternal death it so richly deserves, we must offer people a better way. We must offer them benefits that outweigh the costs of publicly saying “I’m an unbeliever” in a country that is still dominated and controlled by Christianity. We may laud recent upticks in polls for our kind, but this growth pales when compared to the sheer numbers of religious people. Yes, as a block, we now outnumber Evangelicals, but make no mistake about it, they still hold political and cultural power.
After the 2012 Reason Rally, I told readers that it was time for rationalists, skeptics, and freethinkers to move beyond skirmishes with Evangelicals. I still believe that today. That doesn’t mean we stop exposing Evangelical beliefs and practices for the nonsense they are. But we must find ways to build social connections; ways to build clubs that are appealing to, particularly, younger Americans. Trying to reach Evangelical Baby Boomers and the Great Generation is unlikely to succeed. It is with young people that the future of, not only the United States, but the world, rests. We oldsters have a lot of wisdom to offer, but as long as we sit silently in our homes, that wisdom goes to waste. Imagine how different our country might be if every county had a local humanist/skeptics club; a place where young and old alike meet to plan ways to Make America Rational Again; a place where atheists, agnostics, and unbelievers can gather and feel at home. Until we figure this out, people are going to continue to gather at local Evangelical clubs to worship the dead Jesus.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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 most common question my wife and I get as former Christians is “What church do you go to?” or “Have you found a church yet?” We used to be involved and my ******* is a pastor so people make assumptions or are trying to disciple us (which I recognize as someone who used to do it too). How do respond politely?
This is a great question, one that many of us have had to deal with ourselves. I live in rural northwest Ohio — the land of God, Guns, and the GOP. Everyone is a Christian, even though on any given Sunday over half of them do not attend church. Asking someone where they go to church is as common as talking about the weather or the latest high school football game.
When I first deconverted, many local Christians were not aware that I was no longer a believer. Some of them thought I was still a pastor. They would ask me, “Where ya going to church these days?” or “Where are you preaching, Bruce?” I would reply, “We haven’t found a church home, yet” or “I am still looking for a church to pastor” — both of which were lies. We were done with church, and I certainly had zero interest in pastoring a church again. Yet, I didn’t want to get into discussions with people about my loss of faith — especially in the middle of a grocery store or a restaurant.
These days, locals know I am the outspoken village atheist. They know I am the guy who regularly writes letters about religion and politics to the editors of the local newspapers. An increasing number of locals read this blog, so they know firsthand about my godlessness. Gone are questions about church attendance. I get “looks” and whispered discussions, complete with glances and finger-pointing instead. Fourteen years in, I have yet to have a local Christian ask me why I am no longer a Christian. Maybe my blog or my letters to the newspapers tell them everything they need to know. Whatever the reason, I never get questions about my unbelief. I am more than happy to have such discussions, but I suspect many local believers (and pastors) aren’t up to the task of defending the faith once delivered to the saints.
I take a pragmatic approach to questions such as, “What church do you go to?” or “Have you found a church yet?” What benefit is there if I answer these questions honestly? How will my answer affect the relationship I have with the person asking the question? Will answering honestly negatively affect my reputation or employment? Like it or not, coming out as an atheist or agnostic can have deleterious effects. (Please see Count the Cost Before You Say “I am an Atheist.”) Sometimes, it is better to either say you are taking a break from church or are still looking for a good church than to say that you are no longer a Christian. I know, I know, all of us should be free to be our authentic selves, but in the real world, we face societal pressures and obligations. I wish it were different, but it’s not.
I have found the best way to derail the church questions is to deflect, changing the subject. “Bruce, where are you and Polly going to church?” “Well, hey where do you attend church? Is Brutus Pearlclutcher still your pastor? Didn’t you guys build a new building last year?” Turning the discussion around on the questioner puts the focus on them instead of you. Often, they will forget what they asked you. Mission accomplished. And once they answer my questions, I typically say, “Hey, Bob, it sure was good to see you again. I have to go. I have ______________to do.” And before he can say anything further, I politely turn and walk away.
I have lived in rural Ohio for almost sixty of my sixty-six years of life. I enjoy country living, even with its flaws and problems. Everyone knows your business — or at least their version of it, anyway. How you answer church attendance questions eventually gets around. Several years ago, I had a woman come up to me at one of my grandchildren’s ball games and say, “I always wondered what you looked like.” She had never seen an atheist in the wild. I chuckled, and replied, “No horns.” 🙂 Of course, she was wearing a t-shirt advertising her love for Jesus. I didn’t need to ask her any questions. Her shirt told me everything I needed to know about her Evangelical faith.
Do the letter writer and his wife owe others the truth about their spiritual condition or where they attend church? The short answer is no. Contrary to what we may have been taught in Sunday school, we are not obligated to tell the truth or answer every question. We control the narrative. Generally, I tell the truth, but there are times when I don’t want to answer a question (because of the motivations of the questioner or the consequences of answering it). My life is pretty much an open book, but some things have happened in the past that I have no interest in sharing with others. All of us have the right to control what information we give to others. If the letter writer and his wife don’t want to answer church questions, they have no obligation to do so. How to deflect such questions is the issue.
Or you could reply, “My wife and I are members of the Satanic Temple.” Let that rumor get around for a bit. 🙂 Oh, the fun we could have with this question, that is if answering it didn’t have real-life consequences.
Have you been asked, “What church do you go to?” or “Have you found a church yet?” How did you respond? What advice would you give this couple? Please leave your thoughts in the comment section.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.
Recently, an Evangelical (IFB?) man named Nate Beck stumbled upon this site and left the following comment:
I agree with some of the criticisms of the fat preacher Corle. However, I balk at the whole rejecting Christ reason for this website. I doubt people who claim they once believed in Christ ever truly believed in Him at all. It truly takes a real loser to reject Jesus Christ, in my opinion. Just sad.
In 2022, I wrote a post detailing my experiences with Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) evangelist Dennis Corle. Beck agreed with some of my criticism of Corle — calling him “fat.” Yes, Corle is obese — as are many Baptist preachers — but what his weight has to do with anything is unknown.
Beck takes issue with the “whole rejecting Christ reason for this website.” Hmm . . . is rejecting Jesus really the reason for this site? Is my goal to lead as many people as possible away from Christianity? The short answer is NO. Hardcore atheists often accuse me of being too friendly towards religion in general, and Christianity in particular. I have been accused of being a “secret Christian.” Hardcore Christian Fundamentalists, on the other hand, say that I never was a Christian; that I am lying about my past and my love and devotion for Jesus. Both parties refuse to let me speak for myself, building a strawman Bruce Gerencser, and burning him to the ground. Left standing, of course, is the real Bruce Gerencser — a man very different from the one who is portrayed by his critics. (I am open to and even encourage honest, thoughtful debate and criticism, but when atheist and Christian zealots alike refuse to accept my story at face value, I know that their presuppositions keep them from seeing me as I am.)
I am not an anti-theist, nor am I anti-Jesus. Anyone who reads my post Why I Hate Jesus knows I object to the Western Jesus; to the Evangelical Jesus; to the IFB Jesus; to the culture war Jesus. In my mind, Fundamentalism is the problem, and that is true in every arena of thought and life. While I do not think the central claims of Christianity are true and cannot be rationally sustained, I have no axe to grind with Christians, in general. My focus is on Evangelical Christianity and the harm it causes not only to our society, but to individual people — not only psychological harm, but physical harm too. I make no apology for desiring the death of Evangelical Christianity. Evangelicalism impedes social progress, harms families, and retards intellectual maturity. Think I am being too harsh? Millions of Americans — including people in political power — believe the Bible is inerrant and infallible; that the universe is 6,025 years old; that God created the world in six literal 24 hours a day; that every miracle recorded in the Bible is factually true. Is this not an example of impeded intellectual growth — be it from a lack of knowledge or because of Fundamentalist conditioning and indoctrination?
Beck says I am a real “loser.” Evidently, if you don’t believe in Beck’s peculiar version of Jesus and Christianity, you are a loser. That means that 7+ billion people on planet Earth are “losers.” Of course, those of us raised in Fundamentalist sects and churches know this thinking well. Only our little band of followers of Jesus are “True Christians.” All others are lost, doomed, and damned.
Beck’s answer to my story is that I never was a real Christian; that I spent the first fifty years of life living a lie; that when I share my story with others, I am lying. Of course, Beck has no evidence for his claim. Anyone who takes an honest look at my life will conclude that I was a committed, devoted, sold-out follower of Jesus. Not perfect, to be sure, but the bent of my life was towards holiness. Instead of taking my story at face value, Beck is forced to disparage me because he can’t square my life with his peculiar theology. That is his problem, not mine.
Why do so many Evangelicals have such a hard time accepting that some people once were saved and now they are lost; that some people, after carefully examining the claims of Christianity decided that they were false? Married couples divorce all the time. The reasons are many, but one reason often given is “irreconcilable differences.” Does that not best describe why many of us deconverted? We simply could no longer reconcile the differences between what we were told and taught and what we eventually learned was actually the truth. For me, the question is not the existence of God. I rarely engage in such debates. Quite frankly, I find them boring and uninteresting, if for no other reason than that such arguments cannot prove that the God of their arguments is the God of the Bible. I have yet to have someone argue successfully for the existence of a particular Christian deity — and there are many.
Beck “needs” Jesus, I don’t. I have all I need with my partner of almost 46 years, our six grown children and their significant others, our sixteen grandchildren, and our three cats — Joe Meower, Socks, and Petey. We are close to our family — never does a week go by when we don’t see some of them. My family is all I need. I find no value in worshipping a dead man. I do find value in some of his teachings, but I don’t worship the man. I find value in Marcus Aurelius’ writings too, but I don’t worship him. How silly would that be, right? The only God I worship is Polly. I have watched her work countless miracles with $25 for a week’s worth of groceries. I have watched her selflessly raise six children, never bitching or complaining about doing without. She is God, in my book.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.
Originally written in March 2015. Expanded and edited.
If you have not read Are Evangelicals Fundamentalists? please do so. This will help you understand my use of the word “Fundamentalist.”
Thanks to this blog, social media, and breathing air, I come in contact with Christian Fundamentalists every day. They comment on my blog, send me tweets, leave Facebook comments, and send me emails. I’m like a human shit pile on a hot summer day. Fundamentalist flies are drawn to me and there’s little I can do about it. As a former Evangelical, an out-of-the-closet atheist, and a writer, I know that dealing with Christian Fundamentalists is part of my job description.
I’ve been blogging for over fourteen years. I started and stopped several times, with every stoppage predicated by the behavior of Christian Fundamentalists and how their actions affected my health and mental wellbeing. Over the years, I’ve gotten mentally and emotionally stronger, my skin has thickened, and I am pretty much impervious to the petty, childish, boorish, ignorant behavior of Fundamentalists. When I am up to it, I might engage them a bit, but most of the time I let them piss on my doorstep and ignore them. When they don’t get the desired response from me, they usually head off to another fire hydrant they can whiz on. (Yes, I am full of metaphors today!)
Some Fundamentalists have upped their game and turned to electronic means of bullying. Readers may remember all the problems I had several years ago with spambots sent my way by a Fundamentalist zealot. At one time, I was receiving 1,500 spam comments a day. This was a concerted effort by someone to frustrate me and cause me grief. During this same time period, I had someone repeatedly try to access the blog log-in. Now, this happens routinely a dozen or so times a day, but this time was different. They attempted to log in thousands of times a day. The good news is they failed. My login remained secure and no spam made it to the live site.
Currently, I receive a hundred or so spam comments a day. Quite manageable. In most cases, it’s drive-by spammers wanting to either infect my computer with a virus or make my penis larger. In the case mentioned above, it was a directed attack. Someone deliberately wanted to cause me problems, perhaps even cause me to stop blogging. A great victory for Team God, yes? Yea God!
My Facebook friends may remember someone setting up a fake account in my name. They then gained access to my Friends list (my fault since I had it set to public) and sent them new friend requests. About twenty-five of my friends friended the fake Bruce Gerencser, and after they did, they got a private message from the fake account. The message? A Christian one, meant to witness to them. Fortunately, several dozen friends contacted me about the fake account, and in less than an hour Facebook shut it down. For future reference, I am the only Bruce Almighty Gerencser in the world. If we are already connected through social media, any other Bruce Almighty is a false one.
The one thing I have learned from this is that Christian Fundamentalists, for the most part, are intractable. Intractable is not a word used very often, so let me give you the dictionary definition:
This word perfectly describes most of the Fundamentalists I come in contact with through this blog and on social media. Certainty has turned them into nasty, arrogant, hateful individuals who have forgotten what their Bible says about the fruit of the spirit and how they are to treat others. Think Dr. David Tee — who is neither a doctor nor a Tee — Revival Fires, John, and others. Safe behind their digital shields, these petty cowards violently brandish their word swords, caring little about what damage they might cause. Worse yet, they fail to realize or don’t care that they are pushing people away from Christianity. Why would I ever want to be a part of a religion that allows and encourages the maltreatment of others?
As a pastor, I always taught church members that our actions spoke louder than our words. How we treated others determined how our beliefs would be judged. While I may have been a Fundamentalist for many years, I never treated people like I’ve seen Fundamentalists treat me and others. As I mentioned in the comment rules, they are people who haven’t learned to play well with others. They are the schoolyard bullies, demanding that all bow to their God and their interpretation of the Bible.
I know there is no use trying to shame Christian Fundamentalists into acting like they have graduated preschool. If fourteen years of blogging have taught me anything, it is that I can’t change how Fundamentalists think or act. But, Bruce, you were a Fundamentalist, as were many of the people who read this blog, and you changed! True enough, but I also know how hard it is to change.
The majority of Fundamentalists will believe what they believe until they die. Why? Because their entire life is wrapped up in their belief system. They are in a self-contained bubble where, in their minds, everything makes sense. If you have not read, The Danger of Being in a Box and Why it Makes Sense When You Are in It and What I Found When I Left the Box, please do so. I think you will find both posts helpful in explaining the Fundamentalist bubble. Until a person is willing to at least consider that there is life outside of the bubble, there is no hope for them.
I am convinced that inerrancy — the belief that the Bible is without error — keeps people chained to the Fundamentalist God. Armed with an inspired, inerrant, infallible Bible, given to them by the supernatural God who wrote and autographed it, they go into the “world” and wage war against all who disagree with their literalist interpretation of the Bible.
Those of us who were once Christian Fundamentalists understand Fundamentalist pathology. After all, we wuz one of them. We know how certain and arrogant we once were, full of God and, most certainly, full of shit. We would have remained this way had it not been for an event, life circumstance, book, website, or blog challenging our assumptions. When one of these things poked a tiny hole in our bubble, we tried our best to patch the hole. But, try as we might, none of the patches would stick, so our bubble deflated. In rushed the “world” with its knowledge. From that day forward, we knew we could no longer stay in the bubble that had been our home for as long as we could remember. Our Fundamentalist Christian friends and family, along with our pastors and colleagues, tried to patch and re-inflate the bubble; but it was too late. Much like a horse escaping its pen, we were free, and once free we were not coming back.
My purpose in life is NOT to debate, fight, or argue with Christian Fundamentalists. It is a waste of time to do so, and since I have so little time left on this earth, I don’t want to waste it casting my pearls before swine. I’d rather spend my time helping those who find themselves outside of the Fundamentalist bubble. Confused, hurt, looking for help and answers, they are looking for someone whom they can turn to for love and support. I want to be that someone. I also want to help and be friends with those who have already transitioned away from religion. They want to know what a post-God life looks like. Through my writing, I try to be a help. A small help, a temporary help; whatever they need from me, I try to provide. I am not a guru, nor do I have all the answers. At best, I am a bartender, willing to spin a yarn, tell my story, provide entertainment, and listen to the woes, cares, and concerns of others.
Through this interaction, I gain something too. Not another church member or notch on the handle of my gospel six-shooter. I have no church or club, I am just one man with a story to tell. But I do gain support and strength from those who make this blog part of their day-to-day routine. Sometimes this blog is a cheap form of therapy; other times it is a raucous Friday night at the bar with friends. As people ride along with me on the Bruce Gerencser Crazy Train®, they have gone from acquaintances and readers to friends. Perhaps, this has become another bubble for me, but if it is, I do know there is an entrance and exit that allows me the freedom to come and go as I please. Freedom — a word I never really understood until I saw God, the church, the ministry, and the Bible in the rearview mirror.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.
There are over 4,000 religions in the world. These sects can be categorized under six headings: Christianity (31%), Islam (24%), Hinduism (15%), Buddhism (7%), Folk Religion (6%) and Other (17%). According to Wikipedia, 63% of the world self-identify as religious; 22% as non-religious, and 11% as convinced atheists. While the number of atheists, agnostics, and other non-believers, especially those who identify as “nones” continues to increase, their overall percentage of the world population is static or in decline. The best explanation is that religious people tend to have larger families and more children.
According to the Pew Research Center, 71% of Americans self-identify as Christian, 6% as non-Christian, and 23% as “nones” — those who are atheists, agnostics, or indifferent towards religion. Christianity breaks down thusly:
Evangelical — 25%
Catholic — 21%
Mainline Protestant — 15%
Black Protestant — 7%
Mormon — 2%
Jehovah’s Witnesses — 1%
Orthodox — 1%
Non-Christian religions:
Judaism — 2%
Islam — 1%
Buddhism — 1%
Hinduism — 1%
According to the Pew Research Center, non-believers (unaffiliated/”nones”):
Atheism — 3% (this number is misleading since some religions, such as Buddhism, as atheistic)
Agnostic — 4%
Nothing in particular — 16%
In the United States, non-Christians are a larger demographic than Evangelicals. You wouldn’t know this based on their underrepresentation in the media and civil discourse. Worldwide, two-thirds of people self-identify as something other than Christian. Again, thanks to misrepresentation in the media, most people, especially Americans, think Christianity is statistically the largest religion in the world. It’s not, and in Western countries, Christianity continues to decline. Any numeric growth for Christianity is primarily driven by Pentecostal/Charismatic churches in South America and Africa.
Regardless of atheist hopes for a post-religion world, most people hold to some degree or other of religious belief. Granted most people are cultural believers, but when asked to name their team they will gladly do so. Whether they are willing to die or sacrifice their financial well-being for their faith is a whole other question.
Christian apologists point to the pervasive belief in God as evidence for his existence, even though they believe all other deities except theirs are false — no gods, at all. However, isn’t THE issue WHICH God is the one true God; which religion is true? Most religions make truth claims. Few religions believe all deities are the same and all roads lead to Heaven. How can we possibly determine which religion is right? You would think that if Jesus, Allah, or Jehovah are the one true God they would make that clear to everyone. Instead, we have mass confusion.
According to the Center for the Study of Global Christianity, there are over 200 Christian denominations in the United States and 45,000 worldwide. Each sect has its own beliefs and practices, including what is required to be a Christian. No two Christian sects/churches/pastors/congregants believe the same things, despite the Bible saying that there is one Lord, one Faith, and one Baptism. Christians can’t even agree on the basics: salvation, baptism, and communion. If Christians, who have a vested interest in being right, can’t figure out the “truth,” what hope do non-believers have of doing so?
I have concluded that all religions are right; that it is impossible for me to determine who holds the keys to the kingdom, so I have decided they all do. I have also concluded that religion is a human construct; that the Bible that Christians call the “Word of God,” is a human book written by fallible men trying to explain their view of the world, God didn’t create humans, humans created God.
But Bruce, what if after you die you find out that you were wrong about God and Christianity; that the God of the Bible is the one true God? While I have no worries about this being true, if I did find out that I was wrong, I would put the blame squarely on God. He should have made things clearer. He should have clearly stipulated “What a man must do to be saved?” Acts 16: 29-34 states:
Then he [the prison keeper] called for a light, and sprang in, and came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them [Paul and Silas] out, and [the prison keeper] said, Sirs, what must I doto be saved? And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.And they spake unto him the word of the Lord, and to all that were in his house.And he took them the same hour of the night, and washed their stripes; and was baptized, he and all his, straightway. And when he had brought them into his house, he set meat before them, and rejoiced, believing in God with all his house.
Acts 2:38 says:
Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.
Romans 10:9-13 adds:
That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.For the scripture saith, Whosoever believeth on him shall not be ashamed.For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him.For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.
Ephesians 2:8-9 says:
For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.
And finally, James 2:17-20, 24, 26 says:
Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone. Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works: shew me thy faith without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith by my works. Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble.But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead? . . . Ye see then how that by works a man is justified, and not by faith only . . . For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.
As you can see, none of these verses says the same thing about what is required to be saved. Faith alone? Faith plus baptism? Repentance plus baptism? Faith plus works? Household salvation? Paul, Peter, James, and Paul all preached different gospels. Which one is right? How could we possibly know which is right? All we have is an ancient religious text and religious leaders telling us what that text means. How can we possibly know if the Bible and its interpreters are right? God could — after all he is GOD, right? — clear this matter up, but no clarification or correction is forthcoming. For 2,000 years now, God has not uttered one word to the human race. He has not attempted to clear up the confusion. If our eternal destiny hangs in the balance, you would think God would make sure we know exactly what we must do to be saved. Instead, all we have is silence. Why is that?
In Luke 16, we find the story of the rich man and Lazarus. The rich man begged Abraham to send Lazarus to his five brothers and tell them the truth. Surely, if someone came back from the dead and preached the gospel to them, they would believe, the rich man thought. Abraham told him: They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them. The rich man replied: Nay, father Abraham: but if one went unto them from the dead, they will repent. Abraham said: If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.
According to Abraham, God will not provide any other evidence except what is written in the Bible (particularly the Old Testament). Never mind the fact that the Bible is hopelessly convoluted and contradictory, your eternal destiny depends on you “rightly” reading and interpreting the Bible. However, the Bible also says 1 Corinthians 2:14: But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. The natural [unsaved] person CANNOT receive the things of the Spirit of God. The Bible tells us the unsaved are deaf, blind, dead, and unable to hear, see, or believe the gospel. It is God alone who gives unbelievers the ability to believe. Yet, despite being powerless to believe on their own or save themselves, God will hold them accountable and send them to Hell if they don’t.
Until God shows up or releases a memo straightening this mess out, we have no hope of knowing which sect, if any, is right. We do not have sufficient evidence to make such a decision. Thus, most people will choose and practice the dominant religion of their country or tribe. Choosing a religion is akin to the choice of a favorite football or baseball team. Is it any surprise that my children and most of my grandchildren are Cincinnati Reds and Bengals fans? Of course not — Dad and Grandpa avidly roots for the Reds and Bengals. My children and grandchildren have embraced our tribe’s teams. So it is with religion.
All of this suggests to me that all religions — including Christianity — are human constructs. Once I understood this, I no longer feared being a member of the wrong sect or worshipping the wrong God. And if I am wrong? That’s on God — whomever he/she/they/it may be — not me. I have been diligent in my search for God and the “truthfulness” of the various claims made by religion. While I haven’t studied some religions as I have Christianity, I am confident that all of them are of human origin. And when it comes to Christianity itself, I am convinced that the central claims of Christianity are false and can’t be rationally sustained.
If “God” wants us to “believe,” it is on him/her/them/it to accurately and completely convey to humanity the truth. That this hasn’t happened suggests that God is either busy, on vacation, taking a shit, or, just maybe, he doesn’t exist. My money is on the latter.
My partner of forty-five years, our six children, and sixteen grandchildren have heard me say countless times “I work on information.” Sometimes, Polly or another family member will tell me something without giving me enough information to understand what they are saying. Polly will assume I know who “John” is at work. I typically smile and say, “I work on information. Who is John?” That’s how I view stories about God, Jesus, and salvation. I work on information, and so far that information has not been provided. The best I seem to get are people who say they speak for God, preachers such as Dr. David Tee, Don Camp, Revival Fires, John, and a host of other zealots. Is this the best God can provide?
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.
Growing up in an Evangelical home, I knew that Christmas was all about the birth of our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. Gifts were sparse, often just two or three packages, but never far from view was the most wondrous gift of all: salvation through the atoning work of Christ on the cross. The churches I attended spent significant time each holiday season reminding congregants that Jesus was the reason for the season. Sermons against Santa Claus, consumerism, and idolatry were common, as were pleas for money to help the poor and marginalized.
Polly and I started dating in September 1976. On Christmas Eve of that year, I drove from my mother’s home in Bryan, Ohio to Newark to meet Polly’s parents and attend her family’s Christmas gathering. This was the first time I had the opportunity to be alone with Polly, and we took advantage of it, using trips to the apartment complex’s laundry room to get as much kissing in as possible before returning to Midwestern Baptist College and its thou-shalt-not-touch six-inch rule. The family gathering was held at the home of Polly’s aunt and uncle, Jim and Linda Dennis. Jim was the pastor of the Newark Baptist Temple. Prior to gathering at their house, we dutifully attended the Christmas Eve service at the Baptist Temple. During the service, Polly’s uncle decided to thoroughly embarrass both of us by pointing out that Polly had a special visitor with her. He then said, “Bruce and Polly have a shirt tail relationship. We just don’t know how long the shirt tail is.” I can imagine Polly’s Mom saying to herself, not very long if I have anything to do with it.
After Christmas Eve service, we drove over to the Dennis’ home. As I walked in the door, I couldn’t help but notice the largest pile of Christmas gifts I had ever seen in my life. Jesus may have been the reason for the season, but it was quite evident that receiving a lot of gifts came in a close second. Prior to the gift-giving orgy, someone — I can’t remember who — gave a quick devotional, reminding all of us, yet again — as if we haven’t heard before — that Christmas was all about Jesus, his virgin birth, death on the cross, and resurrection from the dead. Once the Sermonette for Christianettes® was duly delivered, it was time for the gifts to be distributed. Polly and I had already traded gifts, so I didn’t expect anything for myself. I was surprised (and embarrassed), then, to receive a gift from Polly’s parents — a leather belt.
After Polly and I married, we settled into a holiday routine that had us celebrating Christmas Eve with her family and Christmas Day with mine. Things continue this way until the late 1980s. I had stumbled upon material that purported to reveal the pagan history and true meaning of Christmas. Wanting to be obedient to Christ and untainted by the world, I decided, as the head of the home, that we would no longer practice Christmas. I can only imagine how heartbroken Polly was when I gathered up all of her Christmas decorations and donated them to Goodwill. I did make an allowance for us attending family Christmas gatherings. We bought no gifts for our children, treating Christmas as if it were just another day. For several years, our family drove to the Charity Rescue Mission in Columbus on Christmas Day to help serve food to the homeless. Several families from the church I was pastoring at the time — Somerset Baptist Church — went with us. While I deeply regret becoming the Grinch that stole Christmas, feeding the homeless put Christmas into perspective for the Gerencser family.
Somewhere in the 1990s, I realized that you could make Christmas into whatever you wanted it to be. Much to the surprise and delight of our children, we bought a Christmas tree and decorations. We also allowed for limited gift-giving. As I look back on this, I realize that I did with Christmas exactly what the Catholics did when they took pagan practices and repurposed them for Christian use. Yes, Christmas was originally a pagan holiday, as were many of the practices associated with it, but I believed that such things could be used to further the gospel of Christ and give witness to Jesus. From that point forward, in the churches I pastored I allowed Christmas decorations to be put in the church auditorium. For the next decade, our home and the churches I pastored celebrated Christmas as most other American families and churches did. Jesus may have been the reason for the season, but gift-giving was a close second. To assuage the lingering guilt I had over consumer-driven gift-giving, I made sure our family and the churches I pastored gave liberally to missionaries and the poor.
Fifteen years ago, on the last Sunday in November, Polly and I attended church for the last time. For the longest time, we found it impossible to attend anything remotely associated with religion. We had just gone through a nasty divorce with God, and we didn’t want to go anywhere that would remind us of our ex. After a few years, the distance between deconversion and the present was sufficient that we were able to attend Christmas programs and concerts without wanting to commit homicide. Our first foray back into the religious world was attending the production of Handel’s Messiah at a nearby church. That same year, we attended a Christmas concert put on by a Trans-Siberian Orchestra cover band — Siberian Solstice. One of the mainstays of the group was my counselor.
Evangelicals often deride me for practicing Christmas. How can an atheist practice a religious holiday? they ask. Christmas is all about Jesus, and aren’t you being hypocritical if you celebrate a holiday set aside to worship a God you don’t believe in? I suppose that this would be a valid question if the evidence at hand showed me that, indeed, Christmas was all about Jesus and his alleged virgin birth in Bethlehem 2,000 years ago. However, the evidence clearly shows that Christmas is all about family, food, and gift-giving, with Jesus often being a cursory add-on — even for Evangelicals. While many Evangelical churches will attempt to put Christ back in Christmas, most church families will practice Christmas in the same manner as their non-Evangelical neighbors.
As atheists, we can enjoy the holiday season, sans Jesus. In fact, Polly and I both say that Christmas is far more enjoyable now than it was when I was pastoring churches. Quite frankly, the days between Thanksgiving and New Year’s were so busy that we had little time to enjoy the holidays. Like many Christian churches, who once a year want to show the poor and disadvantaged that they really, really, really care, we put together several food baskets and delivered them to the poor. (Isn’t it amazing that the poor only need food and help during the holidays?) Not only did we have to do obligatory alms to the poor, we also had to prepare for special services such as Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve. By the time the new year rolled in, Polly and I were quite glad the holidays were over.
These days, we are free to enjoy Christmas without worrying about whether we are giving Jesus his just dues. For Polly and me, Christmas is all about family. We eat lots of food with no worries about waistlines. Polly loves to bake and I love to eat (in former years, but not since being diagnosed with gastroparesis and exocrine pancreatic insufficiency) what she bakes, as do our children and grandchildren. For the next month, Christmas songs will waft through the air of our home — yes, even religious ones. You might be surprised if you stop by to hear us singing Joy to the World, Oh Come All Ye Faithful, or many of the other religious songs associated with Christmas. The lyrics of the songs are reminders of our cultural heritage, not declarations of faith. This is why you will also find us singing Santa Claus is Coming to Town and Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. For us, family and not Jesus is the reason for the season. If Christians want to focus on Jesus during Christmas, that is certainly their right to do so. However, I refuse to let them ignorantly suggest that Christmas is a Christian-only holiday. When confronted with such historical ignorance, I remind them that Christmas means different things to different people. It is a holiday that should bind all of us together, reminding us of the blessings of family and our common heritage. Evangelicals who stupidly say that there is a war against Christmas deserve a double-barrel gun salute. There is no war against Christmas, and no matter how many times Fox News says that there is, the fact remains that Christmas is a religious and a secular holiday. Christians are free to worship the baby Jesus — cue Ricky Bobby and Talledega Nights — and sing praises to his name, and the rest of us are free to practice Christmas without the religious baggage.
How do you practice Christmas now that you are no longer a Christian? Are the holidays stressful for you? Do you still attend Christmas services? Please share your thoughts in the comment section.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.
Suppose you were stranded on a small, uninhabited island in the Pacific Ocean. Suppose you had no exposure to any of the world’s religions; that you know absolutely nothing about God, Jesus, and Christianity. Suppose you only had one book to read: the Protestant Christian Bible. Not a study Bible or a Bible with explanatory notes. Just the sixty-six books with verse and chapter numbering.
Suppose you sat underneath a palm tree and started reading the Bible. You have no understanding of Christianity or Trinitarian theology. You have never heard of Jesus, Jehovah, the Holy Ghost, Moses, Abraham, John, the Baptist, Mary, Joseph, Paul, or the apostles. What conclusions would you come to about what you read? Would you naturally come to the same conclusions as Christians do today?
Try to divorce yourself from past indoctrination and conditioning. What conclusions would you come to after reading the Bible? Would your conclusions remotely resemble what Christians commonly believe or what Evangelicals believe, in particular?
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.
