Menu Close

Category: Atheism

2023: A Few Family Photos From an Atheist and His Heathen Wife Who Have No Meaning and Purpose in Their Lives

Our children and their girlfriends and spouses, along with our thirteen grandchildren, were over to celebrate Father’s Day on Sunday. We had a delightful time. On Monday we drove to Cincinnati to watch the Reds play the Colorado Rockies.

bruce gerencser 2023

Bruce Gerencser at Great American Ballpark, June 19, 2023

bruce and polly gerencser 2023

Polly and Bruce Gerencser, Father’s Day 2023.

bruce and polly gerencser 2023 2

Polly and Bruce Gerencser, Great American Ballpark, June 19, 2023

gerencser children 2023

Our children, ages thirty to forty-four, Father’s Day 2023

gerencser grandchildren 2023 2

Our grandchildren, ages three to twenty-two, Father’s Day, 2023

gerencser grandchildren 2023 3

Our grandchildren, ages three to twenty-two, Father’s Day, 2023

gerencser older grandchildren 2023

Our older grandchildren, ages fifteen, seventeen, seventeen, and twenty-two, Father’s Day, 2023

As you can see, the Gerencser family lives empty, purposeless lives. While some of us are religious, most of us are not. None of us are Evangelical, nor are we fans of much of what we see in organized religion. Thank God, the curse has been broken.

The next time an Evangelical tells me my life is worthless without Jesus, I will point them to these pictures and say, “Sure buddy, keep telling yourself that.” I live a happy, fulfilling life, one filled with love, all without Jesus and the church. Impossible, you say? The evidence is right in front of you, much like Jesus when he said “here are the nail prints in my hands. Will you not believe?” Or do you have an agenda; a strawman you must maintain at all costs?

Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.

Songs of Sacrilege: White Wine in the Sun by Tim Minchin

tim minchin

This is the latest installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.

Today’s Song of Sacrilege is by White Wine in the Sun by Tim Minchin.

Video Link

Lyrics

I really like Christmas
It’s sentimental, I know
But I just really like it

I am hardly religious
I’d rather break bread with Dawkins
Than Desmond Tutu, to be honest

And yes, I have all of the usual objections
To consumerism
To the commercialization of an ancient religion
To the westernization of a dead Palestinian
Press-ganged into selling PlayStations and beer
But I still really like it

I’m looking forward to Christmas
Though I’m not expecting
A visit from Jesus

I’ll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum
They’ll be drinking white wine in the sun
I’ll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum
They’ll be drinking white wine in the sun

I don’t go in for ancient wisdom
I don’t believe just ’cause ideas are tenacious
It means they’re worthy

I get freaked out by churches
Some of the hymns that they sing have nice chords
But the lyrics are dodgy

And yes, I have all of the usual objections
To the miseducation
Of children who, in tax-exempt institutions
Are taught to externalize blame
And to feel ashamed
And to judge things as plain right and wrong
But I quite like the songs

I’m not expecting big presents
The old combination of socks, jocks and chocolates
Is just fine by me

Cause I’ll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum
They’ll be drinking white wine in the sun
I’ll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum
They’ll be drinking white wine in the sun

And you, my baby girl
My jetlagged infant daughter
You’ll be handed round the room
Like a puppy at a primary school
And you won’t understand
But you will learn someday
That wherever you are and whatever you face
These are the people who’ll make you feel safe
In this world
My sweet blue-eyed girl

And if my baby girl
When you’re twenty-one or thirty-one
And Christmas comes around
And you find yourself nine thousand miles from home
You’ll know what ever comes

Your brothers and sisters and me and your mum
Will be waiting for you in the sun
Whenever you come
Your brothers and sisters, your aunts and your uncles
Your grandparents, cousins and me and your mum
We’ll be waiting for you in the sun
Drinking white wine in the sun
Darling, when Christmas comes
We’ll be waiting for you in the sun
Drinking white wine in the sun
Waiting for you in the sun
Waiting for you
Waiting

I really like Christmas
It’s sentimental, I know

Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.

Why Didn’t Anyone Know I Was a Follower of Satan When I Was Their Pastor or Colleague?

satan

As readers of this blog know, I have a lot of critics; people who have plenty of negative things to say about me; people who preach sermons and write blog posts about me. Tim Conway, pastor of Grace Community Church in San Antonio described me this way: a dog, false Christ, false apostle, false prophet, false teacher, deceiver and antichrist, enemy of the cross, demonic, a man who led people to hell and destruction, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, driven by my lust. To Conway and others like him, I am a follower of Satan, a man who walks to and fro upon the earth seeking whom he may devour. What justification do my critics have for their caustic attacks on my person?

Instead of judging my life in context, my critics see that I am now an outspoken atheist and they conclude that I was never a Christian; that the twenty-five years I spent pastoring churches in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan, were a facade I used to cover up my true purpose: advancing the kingdom of Satan on earth. Of course, they have no evidence to justify this claim. If my grand ambition was to lead people away from Jesus, I sure wasn’t very good at it. Hundreds of people were saved under my preaching. Countless people will testify that I made a difference in their lives. I deeply loved and cared for the people I pastored. Not only did I minister to their spiritual needs, but I also ministered to their temporal needs. I was free with my time and money, hoping that I was a good example of someone who loved his neighbor as himself.

Theologically, I was solidly Evangelical, with a Calvinistic bent. No one ever leveled heresy charges against me. One man got upset with me one night when I preached on the love of God from John 3:16. He told me that he doubted that I was a “real” Calvinist. Another man objected to my Calvinistic view of the atonement, and later left the church. He would later return to the church, his life in shambles. I graciously embraced him and welcomed him and his wife back into our church. I tried not to burn bridges when people left the churches I pastored, though, occasionally I clapped and cheered in my mind when some people left. Good riddance! Too real? 🙂

I spent fifty years in the Evangelical church. I attended an Evangelical college and labored in God’s vineyard for twenty-five years. I preached special meetings and revivals for other churches and spoke at Bible conferences. I knew a lot of Evangelical and Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) preachers. I broke bread with them at fellowship meetings and, occasionally, met them for breakfast or lunch. We would spend our time talking shop and discussing theology. I considered some of these preachers my friends.

All told, I came in contact with thousands of Christians; people who were bought-by-the-blood, filled-with-the-Holy-Ghost, sanctified lovers of Jesus. Not one of them, in the moment, ever doubted that I was a Christian; a God-called preacher. Not one of them leveled charges of heresy against me. If I were actually a follower of Satan, why didn’t any of these people who had the Holy Spirit living inside of them as their teacher and guide, know that I was? Was I such an expert deceiver that I deceived not only the people I pastored, but also my family and colleagues in the ministry? Of course not.

My critics who knew me when I was a pastor know that I was a True Christian®; that the bent of my life was toward holiness. They know how committed I was to studying, understanding, and preaching the Word of God. They know I diligently tried to seek and save those who were lost. Nothing in my life said to them at the moment that I was anything but a child of God.

Knowing these things to be true, why do my critics viciously attack and disparage me? Why do they say I never was a Christian? Why do they lie about me? Why do they refuse to accept my story at face value? You see, I am a conundrum to them. My life story doesn’t fit neatly in their peculiar theological box. They can’t use the typical arguments they use when someone deconverts: poorly taught, ignorant of the Bible, cultural Christian. None of these things applies to me, nor do they apply to many of the ex-Evangelicals I know.

There’s only one correct explanation of my life: Bruce Gerencser was once a Christian, and now he is not. Any other explanation is about my critics, not me; about their inability to reconcile my story with their peculiar theology. This, of course, is not my problem. Who better knows my life than me?

I suspect that for many of my critics, the real issue is fear. They say to themselves, “If Bruce Gerencser can fall from grace or be so deceived that he was never a real Christian, could not the same happen to me? Yes, the same could happen to you, and to Loki, my Lord and Savior, I pray, “Make it so.”

Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.

Elizabeth Prata Says That There is No Such Thing as an Ex-Christian

ex-christian

Elizabeth Prata, an Evangelical Calvinist and the author of The End Time blog, becomes the latest person to attempt to delegitimize and explain away the storylines of Evangelicals-turned-atheists. No matter what we say about how we lived our lives as devoted followers of Jesus and why we later walked (or ran) away from Christianity, Prata knows better. Rather than accept narratives of loss of faith at face value, Prata concocts a strawman of the Evangelical-turned-atheist in her mind so she can make her peculiar theology “fit” our deconversion stories. In her mind, there’s no such thing as an ex-Christian. Anyone who deconverts was never a Christian to start with.

Here’s what Prata had to say:

Those who fell away were never really one of Jesus’ elect to begin with.

….

And before the person started falling away, in came sneaky heresies they began listening to. They enjoyed these false teachings and heresies because their darkened heart had never experienced the light.

….

So the progression is: profess Christ by mouth… but since there was no visible fruit to show the state of grace they were claiming on the inside, they were never really saved & regeneration never occurred; fail to walk closely with Jesus by procrastinating in discipleship, Bible study, prayer, and/or worship, furthering the distance between themselves and Jesus; (OR, faithfully attending church and Bible study but due to hard heart always were learning but never able to come to knowledge of the truth); listen to or promote destructive heresies that either they knowingly or unknowingly begin to believe, start doubting Christ’s sufficiency; doubt more, and then slide into apostasy’s full blown renunciation and end up in a state of atheism.

….

The end result of a Christian in name only – that is, one who claimed Jesus but never really believed – and is one who is at risk of being tempted by destructive heresies, and ultimately of apostasy. What comes next is atheism.

Atheism is a natural cul-de-sac in the road away from the cross.

….

Which, I suspect, could be one of the reasons Peter said it makes a person worse off from what they were before. After apostasy settles in and atheism rears its head, a person is well and truly now in the dangerous pits of despair, misplacing their burgeoning faith in Something for a faith in Nothing that will last forever.

According to Prata, here’s the progression:

  • We professed faith in Jesus with our mouths but not our heart
  • We had no visible fruit in our lives
  • We failed to walk closely with Jesus by procrastinating in discipleship, Bible study, prayer, and/or worship, furthering the distance between ourselves and Jesus
  • Or we faithfully attended church and Bible study but due to hardened hearts we always were learning but never able to come to knowledge of the truth
  • We listened to and promoted dangerous heresies which we began to believe more and more
  • And then, one day we slid right down the proverbial slippery slope into apostasy and atheism

Does this progression remotely describe your journey from Evangelical Christianity to atheism/agnosticism or even liberal Christianity or a different religion altogether? I know it doesn’t mine, not even close. and I suspect it doesn’t describe your journey either. You see, for Prata’s denunciation of us to work, she must paint us as shallow, nominal Christians, not people who were committed, devoted followers of Jesus. She also must paint us as ignorant, poorly taught believers; anything but accepting that we were just as much in love with Jesus as she is; that we were knowledgeable of the teachings of the Bible, just as she is; that we lived our lives in holiness, just as she does.

Regardless of her motivations, Prata is being dishonest with her portrayal of Evangelicals-turned-atheists. If she wants atheists to embrace her peculiar version of Christianity, the first thing she must do is be honest. As long as she deliberately portrays former believers in a dishonest light, it is fair for us to question her moral character. When Prata says she is a Christian, I believe her. I always initially take people at face value. If you say you worship Jesus, I believe you. Who am I to question how people self-identify? I just wish the Elizabeth Pratas of the world would do the same for us non-believers. I am sure she will argue that the Bible says _________! As if that somehow absolves her of how she falsely portrays people different from her. If the goal is honest discourse, then the least any of us can do is listen to those we disagree with and allow them to control their own storyline. If an ancient religious text stands in the way of you being a decent human being, then perhaps it is time to chuck the Bible.

Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.

Is Religion a Powerful Narcotic?

getting high on Jesus

Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.

The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is the demand for their real happiness. To call on them to give up their illusions about their condition is to call on them to give up a condition that requires illusions. The criticism of religion is, therefore, in embryo, the criticism of that vale of tears of which religion is the halo.

— Karl Marx

One need only to study world religions to understand that religion is a powerful force in our world — for good and evil. Marx rightly compared religion to opium — a powerful narcotic used to relieve pain, both physically and psychologically. Religion, in all its forms, is used by humans to find purpose, meaning, peace, and happiness. Ultimately, people worship deities because doing so benefits them in some way or another. A good way to look at religion is from an economic perspective. Every religion has a cost attached to it. Sometimes those costs are clear: time, money, and commitment. Other times, religion extracts psychological or emotional costs. Some religions, such as Evangelical Christianity, Mormonism, and Jehovah’s Witnesses, require an abandonment of self and total commitment to God and the church. I spent fifty years in the Evangelical church. Twenty-five of those years were spent pastoring churches in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. I can’t even begin to calculate the cost of my devotion to the Evangelical Jesus. Much of my time and money was spent in devotion to a deity whom I believed was the one true God, the creator and ruler over all. I abandoned self as I “followed the Lamb of God.” I willingly sacrificed my marriage and family, living in poverty and doing without for my God’s sake. Why would anyone live as I did?

Serving Jesus was costly, but the benefits far outweighed the costs — or so I thought at the time, anyway. Through my religious beliefs, experiences, and practices, I found happiness, peace, and meaning. I had the privilege of preaching the gospel and teaching others the “truths” of the Christian Bible. I was loved and respected, and there never was a day when I didn’t feel God’s presence in my life. Oh, sometimes it seemed God was distant, but more often than not, the Christian deity was an ever-present reality.

It matters not whether Christianity is true; that its core beliefs are rational and reasonable. All that mattered, as a Christian, is that I thought these beliefs were true. Countless people believe all sorts of things that are untrue, but they believe them to be true, so in their minds, they are. While believing in the Christian God extracted from me a high cost, one I am paying to this day, for most of my life I believed the benefits of religious faith outweighed its costs.

Marx thought religion gave people false happiness. That said, he never underestimated its power, its ability to meet the deep needs of the human psyche. Atheists often wrongly believe that the solution to the ills of the world is for people to abandon their superstitions and embrace rationality rooted in reason, science, and intellectual inquiry. What atheists forget is that what humans want more than anything else is happiness. Until rationalists, freethinkers, and humanists show that their godless way of life leads to purpose, meaning, and happiness, we can’t expect religious people to buy what we are selling. We know that people don’t need to toke religious crack to feel happy and fulfilled, but we will never argue people into understanding this. Like it or not, feelings play a big part in the human experience. Life is short, and then we die. Religion offers a powerful drug that lessens the pain of that reality. We secularists must offer the same if we expect to neuter the effects of religion on our world.

Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 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.