Note: I originally wrote this post seventeen years ago. It has been updated, corrected, and expanded.
Many Christians are surprised to learn that their pastors use the material, outlines, and sermons of others when preaching. Years ago, Polly and I, along with our children, visited more than 100 Christian churches. (Please see But, Our Church is Different!) We heard a variety of preaching, ranging from atrocious to outstanding. We also heard a number of stolen or adapted sermons. In our experience, Rick Warren was the favorite preacher to steal from. I find such behavior scandalous.
In 2005, we attended a church for about three months led by a pastor who morphed into Rick Warren every Sunday. The dead giveaway was his liberal use of numerous Bible translations — a classic Warren trait. I suspect I was the only one who knew the source of this preacher’s sermon. One man gave a glowing testimony one Sunday regarding the pastor’s wonderful sermons. I wanted to stand up and shout, “AMEN, thank God for Rick Warren.”
Why is there such a problem with preachers stealing the material of others? I believe the problem is threefold:
First, many pastors are lazy. The ministry provides great cover for men with poor work habits.
Second, a number of pastors feel threatened by the smooth, well-produced sermons of megachurch/TV preachers. They know their church members listen to these slick communicators, and they are afraid of falling short in comparison.
Third, there are many pastors who should not be in the ministry. God equips whom He calls, and it seems that some men and women lack basic speaking/preaching skills. They try to cover it up by stealing the material of others. I have heard far too many sermons that lacked in any semblance of order or content. I was the assistant pastor of one church where the pastor’s thrice-weekly sermons were downright awful. This man couldn’t even make a basic sermon outline. He attended the same college as I did, but evidently he wasn’t paying attention in speech/homiletics class. Either that, or he simply didn’t have the requisite skills necessary to be a competent public speaker. I tried to teach him how to make an outline, but “learning” from a 20-something greenhorn (he was in his 40s) proved impossible.
I preached a few sermons out of a book of outlines when I first started preaching, but since that time, the 4,000 sermons I preached were my own. Good, bad, or indifferent, the sermons I preached were the result of my own work. I read the work of others. I profited from commentaries. But, at the end of the day, my sermons were mine. I believed then and still do today, that it is unethical to use the work of others; to preach sermons or give speeches that belong to someone else.
In July 1983, I started the Somerset Baptist Church in Somerset, Ohio. I was 26 years old. The church began with 16 people — four of whom were my family — in an old, dilapidated storefront. Our rent was $100 a month. A few months later, we moved to the Landmark Building — a huge two-story building that used to house a farm co-op. We rented the upstairs of the building for $200 a month. We would remain here until we bought an abandoned Methodist church building for $5,000, five miles east of Somerset.
In the fall of 1983, I had my sister’s pastor from Montpelier, Ohio come to our church to hold a revival meeting. This man was the new pastor of the first church I worked for after I left college, Montpelier Baptist Church.
As was my custom, I asked this man of God what his plans were for the week. He said to me, “what would you like me to preach? I have numerous sermons of other people I have memorized. How about Greg Dixon’s sermon, The Sinking of the Titanic?” I was shocked by his question. I told him, “That’s okay. Just preach what the Lord lays on your heart.”
I knew preachers used the materials of others, often without attribution, but to preach another man’s sermon verbatim? How lazy can you be? That’s a rhetorical question, by the way.
I realize that I am an atheist, and have little credibility among preachers these days, but I still believe that so-called spokesmen for God should use their own work. (And yes, I have seen similar laziness in mainline churches. We heard numerous sermons in mainline churches that were nothing more than pastors reading word-for-word from the lectionary.)
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.
When most people describe volcanic eruptions, the type that is most often depicted is that of what geologists call a Vesuvian-type eruption, named after the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 CE that destroyed the region of Pompeii. This type of eruption is also commonly called a Plinian-type eruption as it was described in great detail by Pliny the Younger in two letters to his uncle.
Pliny described a dark cloud rising rapidly upward from Mount Vesuvius and being lit up by flames and large flashes of lightning. He then described thick, hot cinders and ash raining back down near the mountain, while further away the ash spread out resulting in a lurid darkness spread over the region. Strong earthquakes were also described.
Pliny’s wonderfully complete description of this type of eruption earned him the honor of having all subsequent eruptions of this type bear his name. Some geologists prefer to name geologic events after a type location however, which is why some refer to this type as a Vesuvian eruption.
But was Pliny the first to fully describe such an eruption, or does a more ancient author deserve this honor? Science has a long history of memorializing the first, and yet in this instance, the first has been overlooked. The eruption of Mount Sinai in 1459 BCE, give or take a few years, was fully described by Moses. Therefore, this type of eruption should, by convention, be called a Mosaic- or Sinaian-type eruption.
Pliny’s description is considered to be a first because it contains certain criteria, all of which are also found in the description by Moses. These are:
1) a rapidly rising, hot cloud of ash and other volcanic material
2) lightning caused by static electric charges as the material is ejected upwards
3) flames or burning material known today as lava
4) thick darkness covering the surrounding region as the ash settles
5) strong earthquakes
“…the mountain burned with fire to the midst of heaven, with darkness, cloud, and thick darkness.” Deuteronomy 4:11
“…there were thundering and lightnings… Its smoking ascended like the smoke of a furnace, and the whole mountain quaked greatly.” Exodus 19:16,18
The necessary criteria appears to be only lacking a description of ash. However, the Hebrew word used here for darkness, is the same Hebrew word used to describe the plague of darkness that settled on Egypt just a couple of months before. That darkness was described as a “darkness which may even be felt” (Exodus 10:21) indicating the presence of particles in the air causing the darkness—in other words, ash.
One potential point of controversy in renaming this type of eruption after Sinai might be that the exact location of the mountain has been lost to history and is only known to be somewhere in Arabia’s rift region where such eruptions have been documented. Not knowing the exact location should not be a problem as scientific convention still honors the first description even when the type is lost. There are many examples in biology where the type specimen of a new specie has been lost.
Another argument for its rejection would be that acceptance of the historicity of this event is limited to the realm of believers in Judeo-Christian religions. However, outside of the Bible, the Quran also portrays this event as historical.
“We made the mountain tower high above them at their pledge…” An Nisa 4:154
“…when his Lord revealed Himself to the mountain, He made it crumble…” Al Araf 7:143
Not only does the Quran affirm the historicity of the account, but just like the Torah, it marvels at the ability of the Creator to manifest Himself within such awesome displays of power within His creation. Will the skeptics also one day marvel when the whole earth is bathed in a thick and gloomy volcanic darkness? A future day is described by two later authors who use the same Hebrew word for darkness that Moses used (Joel 2:2 and Zephaniah 1:15). In Revelation, John also describes a future plague of darkness that is painful (Revelation 16:10). Could these prophecies be hinting at a future time of significant volcanic activity? Maybe then fellow geologists will accept calling these Sinaian-type eruptions.
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.
Several years ago, a reader of this blog asked me to answer this question: Bruce, Will You Repent on Your Deathbed and Return to Jesus?
Good question.
I divorced Jesus in November 2008. Since then, I have proudly worn the atheist label. I am often asked WHY Jesus and I had a falling out and I ended our five-decade-long marriage. (Please see the WHY? page.) While the reasons are many, the primary reason I left Christianity is that its beliefs and practices no longer made sense to me. (Please see The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.) I no longer believed the central claims of Christianity: the existence of the triune God, the deity of Christ, the virgin birth, the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, to name a few. I no longer believed in original sin or that humans were inherently broken and in need of saving. I no longer believed that the Bible was an inerrant, infallible text supernaturally written by God. I came to the conclusion that Jesus lived and died, end of story; that the miracles attributed to him were human fabrications. As you can see, I reject out of hand virtually everything Christians believe and hold dear. Thus, I am an atheist.
Heaven and Hell are religious constructs used by clerics to keep asses in the pews and money in the offering plates. Heaven is the proverbial carrot, and Hell is the stick. Since these places do not exist, I need not fear spending eternity in the Lake of Fire being tortured by God for my unbelief.
While I am confident that Christianity is untrue, I remain open to evidence that suggests otherwise. It’s doubtful that any such evidence is forthcoming. Christian theologians and apologists have been making the case for Christianity for 2,000 years. I suspect everything that can be said, has been said. Solomon was right when he said, “There’s nothing new under the sun.” Countless Christian apologists have stopped by this site to ply their apologetical skills, hoping to reclaim Bruce, the atheist, for Jesus and perhaps save a few of his “followers.” Every one of them has left frustrated that their super-duper, clever, sophisticated arguments failed to win anyone to their cause. Why? Same shit, new day.
I am sixty-seven years old. In poor health, struggling just to make it to the next day, I know that I shall die sooner, and not later. Maybe I will live twenty more years. I doubt it. Dealing with chronic illnesses and unrelenting pain wears me out. There could come a day when I have had enough and I put an end to my struggle. Or, I could have a stroke, heart attack, cancer, or die from a hematoma on my brain from being clocked with a Lodge cast iron skillet by my wife. Or I could trip over toys left on the floor by one of my grandchildren, breaking my neck. The death possibilities are endless. Cheerful thoughts, people, cheerful thoughts. 🙂
The question posed to me presupposes that I will have a terminal illness that makes me bedridden, affording me the opportunity to repent of my sins and ask Jesus to save me. On that day, will I have the courage of my convictions and remain true to atheism, or will I pray the sinner’s prayer just in case Christianity is true?
The pattern of my life suggests that I will remain true to my convictions; that I will die, not with the name of Jesus on my lips, but that of my partner and family. I do not doubt that upon hearing of my soon demise, Evangelical evangelizers will seek me out, hoping to get one last word in for Jesus. Ceiling prayers will be uttered by Christians, pleading with God to save the vile, wretched, sinful atheist Bruce Gerencser. Will these efforts have their desired effect? I doubt it. The fact remains that I deconverted because Christianity no longer made any sense to me. I came to see that the central claims of Christianity were false. Intellectually, I simply don’t buy what Christians are selling. Since it is highly doubtful that any new evidence is forthcoming, I see no reason for me to change my mind on my deathbed.
Earlier this spring, a prominent evangelical Christian named Larry Taunton published a book alleging that Christopher Hitchens, an outspoken atheist, had been, during the last years of his life, “teetering on the edge of belief.” Taunton, who claims to have been one of Hitchens’s friends, cites as evidence two conversations he had with Hitchens during car trips on the way to debates about religion and atheism—debates, it must be said, that Hitchens was paid to attend.
Hitchens’s family and actual friends—people who didn’t pay to spend time with him—know that this claim is absurd. (I was honored to be one of Hitchens’s friends during the last five years of his life.) Hitchens saw Christianity as little more than a social virus with interesting literary overtones. That view never changed during his final year of life—a period during which Taunton didn’t even meet with him. Hitchens loved to engage in generous intellectual repartee, even with those with whom he unequivocally disagreed. His civility, it seems, has been misinterpreted.
This most recent claim, of course, is just the latest in a long line of similar claims about famous atheist conversions. It raises a worthwhile question: Why do evangelical Christians so often seek to claim converts among the dead?
In relatively recent history, the most well-known postmortem Christian evangelist is probably Elizabeth Cotton. In 1915, she declared that, thirty-three years earlier, Charles Darwin himself had revealed to her, on his deathbed, his wish to recant the doctrine of evolution in exchange for Christian salvation. This claim was shown to be false by none other than Darwin’s daughter, Henrietta Litchfield, who was with him at the end. She pointed out that Cotton—like Taunton, in Hitchens’s case—hadn’t actually visited him during his final days. And evangelical Protestants aren’t the only Christians addicted to the narrative of the deathbed conversion. Catholics have made claims about the “long conversion” of Oscar Wilde; the Mormon Church has gone so far as to baptize dead people who haven’t asked for it—pro-bono conversion, as it were.
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In a conversation we had a few years ago, Hugh Downs, the television anchor, suggested why this might be so. One of the reasons people go to church, he said, is intellectual validation. People attend church for spiritual and social reasons, of course: to pray and to see friends. But they also want to hear their religious convictions affirmed—convictions that, as the Dawkins survey suggests, may seem a little dubious during the rest of the week. Could it be that evangelicals seek to convert the famous dead because they’re insecure about their own beliefs? If they can claim that people they admire as intellects—Darwin, Wilde, Hitchens—ultimately agreed with them, it validates their own faith.
In the end, what evangelists don’t recognize is that atheism is not a belief system like Christianity, from which one might defect after hearing some arguments or having a few sombre conversations. It is, instead, simply a rational decision not to accept the existence of God without evidence. As wise thinkers, including Laplace, Hume, Sagan, and Hitchens, have often said, extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. It’s hard to imagine a more extraordinary claim than that some hidden intelligence created a universe of more than a hundred billion galaxies, each containing more than a hundred billion stars, and then waited more than 13.7 billion years until a planet in a remote corner of a single galaxy evolved an atmosphere sufficiently oxygenated to support life, only to then reveal his existence to an assortment of violent tribal groups before disappearing again.
The idea of the deathbed conversion raises another question: even if an atheist were to accept a theistic worldview, why should he choose to adopt Christianity, rather than any of the world’s many other religions? Evangelical Christians assume, rather presumptuously, that the natural choice is Christianity. Hitchens was unlikely to share that view. As he emphasized in his own writing, no one talks about Hell in the New Testament more than Jesus; the New Testament, he wrote, is worse than the Old. Hitchens described the New Testament as envisioning a “Celestial Dictatorship, a kind of divine North Korea.”
In this regard, the saddest thing about these imagined deathbed conversions is that, even if they were real, they could hardly be seen as victories for Christ. They are stories in which the final pain of a fatal disease, or the fear of imminent death and eternal punishment, is identified as the factor necessary for otherwise rational people to believe in the supernatural.
If mental torture is required to effect a conversion, what does that say about the reliability of the fundamental premises of Christianity to begin with? Evangelicals would be better advised to concentrate on converting the living. Converting the deceased suggests only that they can’t convince those who can argue back. They should let the dead rest in peace.
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.
Ken Ham, CEO of Answers in Genesis, the Creation Museum, and Ark Encounter is ever on the watchtower looking for a conspiracy he can gin up to rouse the faithful. Several years ago, Ham wrote that public school students were being taught to worship the sun. Here’s what he said:
Imagine if public school students in their science classes were encouraged to worship the sun. And yet this is happening! But how do they get away with it? Well, they just call worshipping the sun “science,” and then claim they can teach this “science” in the public schools!
You see, the following statement is allowed to be made (and is being made in a number of instances) to public school science students:
Our ancestors worshipped the sun. They were far from foolish. It makes good sense to revere the sun and stars because we are their children. The silicon in the rocks, the oxygen in the air, the carbon in our DNA, the iron in our skyscrapers, the silver in our jewelry—were all made in stars, billions of years ago. Our planet, our society, and we ourselves are stardust.
This statement was made by Neil deGrasse Tyson in the new Cosmos series. Evolutionists are encouraging teachers to use this series in public school classrooms.
Evidently, Ham doesn’t know what the word revere means. While the word “worship” can be thought of as reverence, it is almost always used in a religious sense. Neil deGrasse Tyson is NOT using the word “revere” in a religious sense. Of course, Ham denies this because he believes atheism/humanism/secularism is a religion. Ham needs to buy himself a dictionary so he can learn what words such as “worship” and “revere” actually mean. Will he do so? Of course not. The coffers at Ham’s monuments to ignorance are running low. He needs to attract people to his creationist amusement park to keep his “ministry” afloat. Scaring Evangelicals is a surefire way to get them to Kentucky to get their fears allayed. For $44.99 a person, Christians can learn the “truth” about sun worship, and every other lie Ham peddles from atop of his creationist empire.
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.
MSNBC talking head, Lawrence O’Donnell, thinks all the questions about Joe Biden’s health have been answered. Not even close, Lawrence.
I’m not a Joe Biden fan. I’ve never been a fan. He wasn’t my first, second, or third choice in the primaries, and the only reason I voted for him in 2020 was the fact he wasn’t Donald Trump. I used the same approach when voting for Hillary Clinton in 2016.
Some of my friends and acquaintances want me to ignore what I see with my own eyes: Joe Biden’s health is declining, and even if he wins reelection, he has a one in three chance of dying in office.
I continue to be amazed by Democrats who think that no one else but Joe Biden can beat Trump in November. Really? With a 37 percent approval rating?
We currently have at least twelve feral/stray cats we are feeding, including a mother with four kittens, and a female with one kitten. We have three inside cats of our own — all rescues. It infuriates me that people are not held accountable for abandoning their cats or allowing them to roam unspayed.
Google made drastic changes to its search algorithm earlier this year. Result? Sites losing thousands and millions of visitors and page views. Traffic for this site is down 30-40 percent.
Several weeks ago, I worried that we wouldn’t have any young raccoons in our backyard this summer. Good news! They finally showed up: three adults and five young raccoons are in our yard as I write.
Our newest cat, Charley, is about nine months old. He’s quite clumsy. Last night, Charley tried to jump in the window above our couch — where I’m presently sitting. He missed, clobbering me in the head as he fell, scratching my left ear. Boy, did it bleed, and, boy, did I cuss. 🙂
I have major back surgery scheduled for August 19, at ProMedica Hospital in Toledo. A routine pre-op chest x-ray revealed a spot on the lower lobe of my left lung. This will require a CT scan on Friday to make sure nothing is amiss. My physician said, “Better to air on the side of caution.”
The Reds sweep the New York Yankees, and then turn around and get swept by the Detroit Tigers. Arg! Baseball. ⚾️
Bonus: Busy week ahead: medical tests, Band of Horses concert, Reds game vs. Colorado Rockies, dinner (Mancy’s Steakhouse), and overnight stay (Hancock Hotel) in Findlay with my partner of 46 years. I’m pushing it physically, but my present mantra is “I only die once.” If not today — when?
Double Bonus: Recent election results in Britain and France give me a glimmer of hope. I fear, however, that the United States will face a lot more upheaval and turmoil before we finally uproot MAGA extremism from our midst. We will likely have to have a “Brexit” moment before people see the bankruptcy of right-wing extremism. That’s the optimistic side of me speaking. My pessimistic side thinks our democracy is in decline and will not survive another Trump presidency, and may not do all that well with a Biden win. Our “rot” is there for all to see. “Hey, did you see who won American Idol?”
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.
I read a few of the articles [on this blog] and none of the titles seem to answer my question. Please know I [am]not an evangelist. I honestly am searching for answers. I want to know if Bruce has had any supernatural or spiritual (not religious) experiences or relationship with God or another? I would like to understand more why Bruce chose to be an outright atheist as opposed to just non-religious or agnostic. And if he has had any supernatural or spiritual experiences I’d like to know what they were and what he thinks of them now.
Several years ago, Matt Dillahunty, mentioned on The Atheist Experience the difficulty in defining the word “spiritual” or “spirituality.” Ask a hundred people to define these words and you will get 101 different answers. “Spiritual” to a Baptist is very different from the way a Catholic, Buddhist, Pagan, or humanist might define the word. T34 equates “spiritual” with “supernatural,” so I will proceed using that definition, understanding that there is no absolute textbook definition for these words. For example, a Charismatic Christian considers speaking in tongues to be “supernatural” experience. An Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) Christian, however, considers speaking in tongues a tool used by Satan to lead people astray.
Before I answer T34’s question, I do want to answer one claim that she makes: she suggests that supernatural and spiritual experiences are not religious. I don’t believe that at all. It is religion, in all its shapes and forms — organized or not — that gives life to supernatural and spiritual claims. Without religion, I doubt humans would have much need for such experiences.
My editor pointed out that non-religious people can and do have paranormal experiences. Are paranormal experiences such as “seeing” ghosts supernatural in nature? Maybe, but I suspect that if naturalism and science had a stronger hold on our thinking, thoughts of ghosts would likely fade away. I’m deliberately painting with BWAPB — Bruce’s Wide-Ass Paint Brush. I recognize that there could be some experiences that might not fit in the box I have constructed in this post. Unlikely, but possible.
I had a church piano player in Somerset who was certain that her dead lover (long story) appeared next to her when she played the piano. I never saw him, but she swore he was right there cheering her on as she played “Victory in Jesus.” Could her story be true? Sure, but not in the way some people may think it is. Her story is true in the sense that she “thinks” it is. In her mind, this man is very real, even though his dead body is planted six feet under in the nearby cemetery. Thus such things can be “true” without actually being factually and rationally true.
I was part of the Christian church for fifty years. While I spent my preschool years in Lutheran and Episcopal churches, once I started first grade in 1963, I attended Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB), Southern Baptist, and garden variety Evangelical churches. I spent twenty-five years pastoring Evangelical churches in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan, pastoring my last church in 2003.
When I discuss the spiritual/supernatural experiences I have experienced in my life, these events must be understood in light of the sects I was raised in, what my pastors taught me, what I learned in Bible college, and my personal learning and observations as a Christian and as an Evangelical pastor. My understanding of what is spiritual/supernatural is socially, culturally, tribally, and environmentally conditioned. A Southern Baptist church can be located on the northwest corner of Main and High in Anywhere, Ohio, and a Pentecostal church located on the southeast corner of Main and High in the same town. Both preach Jesus as the virgin-born son of God, who came to earth, lived a sinless life, and died on the cross for our sins. Both preach that all of us are sinners in need of salvation, and that one must be born again to inherit the Kingdom of God. And both believe Satan is real, Hell is sure, and Donald Trump is the great white hope. Yet, when it comes to “experiencing” God, these churches wildly diverge from one another. The Pentecostals consider the Baptists dead and lifeless, lacking Holy Ghost power, while the Baptists consider their Pentecostal neighbors to be way too emotional; to have a screw loose. Both churches “experience” God in their own way, following in the footsteps of their parents, grandparents, and older saints who have come before them.
As a man who pastored several churches in desperate need of change, I heard on more than a few occasions church leaders and congregants say, when confronted with doing something new or different, “That’s not the way we do it!” Behaviors become deeply ingrained among Christian church members. Our forefathers did it this way, we do it this way, and we expect our children and grandchildren will do the same. A popular song in many Evangelical churches is the hymn, “I Shall Not be Moved.” The chorus says:
I shall not be, I shall not be moved. I shall not be, I shall not be moved; like a tree planted by the water, I shall not be moved.
That chorus pretty well explains most churches. Whatever their beliefs and practices are, they “shall not be moved.” So it is when determining what are real “spiritual” or “supernatural” experiences.
As a Baptist, I believed the moment I was saved/born-again, that God, in the person of the Holy Spirit, came into my “heart” and lived inside of me, teaching me everything that pertains to life and godliness. It was the Holy Spirit who was my teacher and guide. It was the Holy Spirit who taught me the “truth.” It was the Holy Spirit who convicted me of sin. It was the Holy Spirit (God) who heard and answered my prayers. It was the Holy Spirit who directed every aspect of my life.
As a pastor, I typically preached a minimum of four sermons a week. I spent several full days a week — typically 20 hours a week — reading and studying the Biblical text, commentaries, and other theological tomes. As I put my sermons together, I sought God’s help to construct them in such a way that people would hear and understand what I had to say. Daily, I asked God to fill me with his presence and power, especially when I entered the pulpit to preach. I always spent time confessing my sins before preaching, believing it was vitally important for me to be “right” with God before I stood before my church and said, “Thus saith the Lord.”
I expected the Holy Spirit to take my words and use them to work supernaturally among those under the sound of my voice. I believed that it was God alone who could save sinners, convict believers of their sin, or bring “revival” to our church. I saw myself as helpless — without me, ye can do nothing, the Bible says — without the supernatural indwelling and empowerment of the Holy Spirit.
As a committed Christian, I was a frequent pray-er. I prayed for all sorts of things, from the trivial to things beyond human ability and comprehension. I believed that with God all things were possible. In the moment, I believed that God, through the work of the third part of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit, was working supernaturally in my life, that of my family, and of my church. My whole life was a “spiritual” experience, of sorts. God was always with me, no matter where I went, what I said, or what I did, so how could it have been otherwise?
In November 2008, God, the Holy Spirit, along with all of his baggage, was expelled from my life. For the past sixteen years, I have taken the broom of reason, science, skepticism, and rational inquiry and swept the Christian God from every corner of my mind. While I wish I could say that that my mind is swept clean of God, dust devils remain, lurking in the deep corners and crevasses of my mind. All I know to do is keep sweeping until I can no longer see “God” lurking in the shadows.
T34 wants to know how I now view the “spiritual” and “supernatural” experiences from my past life as a Christian and Evangelical pastor. As an atheist, I know that these experiences were not, in any way, connected to God. I have concluded that the Christian God is a myth, that he/she/it is of human origin. If there is no God, then how do I “explain” the God moments I experienced in my life? Does Bruce, the atheist, have an explanation for what “God” did in his life for almost fifty years?
Sure. The answer to this question is not that difficult. I spent decades being indoctrinated by my parents, pastors, and professors in what they deemed was the “faith once delivered to the saints.” This indoctrination guaranteed the trajectory of my life, from a little redheaded boy who said he wanted to be a preacher when he grew up — not a baseball player, policeman, or trash truck driver, but a preacher — to a Bible college-trained man of God who pastored seven churches over twenty-five years in the ministry. I couldn’t have been anything other than a pastor.
And so it is with the “spiritual” and “supernatural” experiences I had in my life. My parents, churches, pastors, and professors modeled certain beliefs and practices to me. I “experienced” God the very same way these people did. Social and tribal conditioning determined how I would “experience” God, not God himself. He doesn’t exist, remember?
I sincerely believed that, at the time, God was speaking to me, God was leading me, and God was supernaturally working in and through my life. But just because I believed these things to be true, doesn’t mean they were. A better understanding of science has forced me to see that my past life was built upon a lie, a well-intended con. This is tough for me to admit. In doing so, I am admitting that much of my life was a waste of time. Sure, I did a lot of good for other people, but the “spiritual” and “supernatural” stuff? Nonsense. Nothing, but nonsense. And saying this, even today, is hard for me to do. It’s difficult and painful for me to admit that I wasted so much of my life in the pursuit of something that does not exist.
T34 asked why I “chose to be an outright atheist as opposed to just non-religious or agnostic.” I am not sure what an “outright” atheist is as opposed to an atheist. Remembering what I said about the connection between religion and the “spiritual” and “supernatural,” isn’t someone non-religious an atheist or an agnostic? While such people may not carry those labels, aren’t non-religious people those who do not believe in deities? If someone believes in a God of some sort, be it a personal deity or some sort of divine energy, they can’t properly, from my perspective, be considered non-religious.
Granted, there is a difference between people who are non-religious and people who are indifferent towards religion. An increasing number of Americans are indifferent towards religion. They don’t give a shit about religion, be it organized or not. I suspect that many of these NONES will eventually become agnostics and/or atheists.
I label myself this way:
I am agnostic on the God question. I am convinced that the extant deities are no gods at all; and that the Abrahamic God is a human construct. That said, I cannot know for certain whether, in the future, a deity might make itself known to us. I consider the probability of this happening to be .00000000000000000000001. Thus, I live my day-to-day life as an atheist — as if no deity exists. I see no evidence for the existence of any God, be it Jehovah, Jesus, Allah, Vishnu, or a cast of thousands of other gods. The only time I “think” about God is when I am writing for this blog. Outside of my writing, I live a God-free life, as do my wife and three cats.
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.
Polly and Bruce Gerencser, Cranbrook Gardens, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan, Spring 1978, two months before our wedding.
My partner, Polly, and I met at Midwestern Baptist College in Pontiac, Michigan in the fall of 1976. Midwestern was an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) institution started in 1954 by Dr. Tom Malone. Malone was the pastor of a nearby megachurch, Emmanuel Baptist Church. Today, Malone is dead, Emmanuel is shuttered, and Midwestern exists in name only at Shalom Baptist Church in Orion, Michigan. Never a big college, Midwestern reached an enrollment of 400 or so in the 1970s. Best I can tell, Midwestern no longer offers in-person classes, but does offer distance learning.
Midwestern graduates and attendees will gather in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, for an all-year reunion this November. While Polly and I would love to attend, my health precludes me from attending. But, that’s not the only reason we won’t be in attendance. While we would love to see our classmates, we don’t have much in common with them. Perhaps the following graphic will emphasize the point I’m trying to make:
As you can see, while we would enjoy reconnecting with former classmates, Polly and I live in a completely different world from them. Most of them, all these years later, are still committed to and connected with Baptist Fundamentalism. More than a few people who will be in attendance have, at times, read this site. I still have their “loving” emails. (And yes, I have received kind, thoughtful emails from former Midwestern students too.) I am well-known in that corner of the IFB world, so many attendees know I have written extensively about Midwestern and its cultic tendencies. Spending three days with people who consider me the enemy or a tool of Satan is not my idea of a good time. (The Midwestern Baptist College Preacher Who Became an Atheist.)
Polly and I have many fond memories from our days at Midwestern. However, there is so much water under the proverbial bridge, that “fond memories” are not enough to entice us to attend the Midwestern Reunion. We look forward to seeing photos of the reunion on Midwestern’s alumni page.
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.
Bruce Gerencser, street preaching, Crooksville, Ohio, with his young son Jaime.
I pastored the Somerset Baptist Church in Mt. Perry, Ohio for eleven years, from 1983-1994. I started the church in a storefront with 16 people. The church later grew to more than 200 people. In 1989, after stopping our multi-county bus ministry due to costs, I started a tuition-free non-chartered Christian school for church children.
For five years, Polly and I, along with a handful of dedicated church members, got up early each morning and made our way to Somerset Baptist Academy (SBA) to teach our church’s children. Best described as a one-room schoolhouse, SBA had fifteen students. Most of the students were lacking academically, and though in retrospect some aspects of our school program were lacking, when it came to the basics, we excelled.
During this time, I was introduced to street preaching by Evangelist Don Hardman. Annually, Hardman would come to our church and hold a fifteen-day protracted meeting — the highlight of the church calendar year. Hardman and I later had a falling out due to my embrace of Calvinism. (Please see the series, My Life as a Street Preacher.)
Several times a week, I would take the church children with me to Newark and Zanesville where I preached and they handed out tracts and attempted to evangelize passersby. After a few years of doing this, I stopped due to increasing criticism from locals, suggesting that it was wrong (cultic) for me to use the children in this manner. While I wholeheartedly objected to their assertions — how was selling school raffle tickets any different? — I recognized that their continued participation was harming the church’s “testimony.”
What follows is a story written in 1990 by then Newark Advocate writer Kathy Wesley (behind paywall). The main character in the story is Shawn Nelson, a ninth-grade student at Somerset Baptist Academy.
You Never Realize How Wicked the World Is by Kathy Wesley, a features writer for The Advocate. Published September 16, 1990
NEWARK– The summer breeze is playing tricks with Shawn Nelson’s sandy hair, blowing it to and fro like wheat straw.
The sun is bright, the afternoon warm, the streets full of people. But Shawn sees darkness around the Courthouse Square.
“You never realize how wicked the world is until you get out there and see it,” the 14-year-old says, glancing around. “You see women in these short skirts, and men wearing no shirts at all, yelling and cussing at their kids.”
While many of his friends are back on the public school playground tossing footballs or dribbling basketballs, Shawn is toting his well-worn Bible in a race against evil on the Courthouse Square.
He spends three hours a week on the streets of Newark and Zanesville with 11 classmates from Somerset Baptist Academy, handing out tracts and opening their Bibles to anyone who will listen.
“It’s fun,” he says, shifting his Good Book from one hand to another and fingering his quarter-inch-thick packet of tracts. “You get to show people how to go to heaven.”
A well-dressed woman passes by, brusquely refusing Shawn’s tract, which asks on its front cover, “Where are you going to spend eternity?”
“It’s OK,” he says afterward. “You get used to it.”
Shawn’s been on the streets since May, when a traveling evangelist sold his pastor, the Rev. Bruce Gerenscer [sic], on street ministering. It felt strange at first to walk up to complete strangers and push Bible tracts into their hands, but Shawn is now a pro.
The latter-day apostle knows all the ropes: don’t give people a chance to say no, don’t step off the sidewalk. “As long as you’re on the sidewalk,” he explains, “you’re on public property and no one can arrest you.”
Like the other children, ranging in age from 9 to 16, Shawn has a Bible marked at the two verses they are to show to people who might stop to ask them for spiritual guidance: John 3:16 (” For God so loved the world … “) and Revelations [sic] 3:20.
In four months on the street, nobody’s asked Shawn to show them the way to salvation, but he’s ready. He’s in the midst of memorizing his Bible.
“I want to memorize the whole thing,” he says. “That way, when someone asks you a Bible question, you’ll immediately know the answer.”
There’s not a lot of Bible quizzes given on the streets of downtown Newark, but Shawn seems fairly confident already. His answers to questions of faith spill quickly from memory with childlike enthusiasm.
“In the old days religion was different,” he says. “Then men decided they wanted new religions, which had nothing to do with the Bible.”
“The Mormons and Presbyterians, among others, are in trouble with the Bible,” Shawn says. “They believe in a different way to go to heaven. Some say you have to work your way to heaven … but the Bible says the only way to heaven is through the Father.”
He’s not sure what it is to be a Christian, “except that you should obey the Bible and you shouldn’t sin.” But the details of those requirements seem to be a little hazy.
With the exception of his ambition to memorize the Bible, Shawn’s future is likewise fuzzy. He hasn’t thought about a career, although he acknowledges he has a fondness for automobiles and engines.
It’s fun for him to be on the street; he recalls with delight the lemonade a Zanesville street vendor gave him one day. But behind it all is his deadly serious mission.
Unlike his predecessor Paul, who spread the story of Jesus of Nazareth in the streets of downtown Ephesus in the First Century, Shawn doesn’t have to dodge spears and unfriendly government officials. He just has to put up with the rejection of people who walk a half block out of their way to go around him, and the taunts of children his own age who pass on bicycles.
“Sometimes they ride by and they mock us,” Shawn says, “and I don’t like it.”
But not, he says, because they hurt his feelings.
“I don’t like it,” he says quietly, with the firmness of childhood certainty, “because I know they’re going to die and go to hell.”
— end of news story —
Shawn was what I made him. I regret doing so to this day.
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.
Young earth creationists believe the universe was created in six literal twenty-four-hour days, 6,027 years ago. Everything science tells us about the universe says this view is wrong. For most Evangelical Christians, what science says doesn’t matter. Evangelicals always defer to the Bible when confronted with conflicts between science and the Bible. Why? In their minds, the Bible is a supernatural text written by a supernatural God. It is the book above all books, different from all the books ever written. It is an inexhaustible book that can be read countless times without exhausting its teachings. It is inerrant and infallible in all that it says, and Evangelicals believe every word in the Bible is true. When confronted with the plethora of errors, contradictions, and mistakes found in both English translations and the underlying Hebrew, Greek, and Aramaic texts, Evangelicals are fond of coming up with novel, and, at times, irrational, ways to defend inerrancy.
Evangelicals tend to be Bible literalists. “Where the Bible speaks, we speak; where the Bible is silent, we are silent,” Evangelicals say. Of course, for those of us raised in Evangelical churches, we know this sentiment is a crock of shit. We heard preacher after preacher mold, shape, and reinterpret the Bible so as to gain a particular interpretation or meaning. Put one hundred Evangelical preachers in a room and ask them to interpret a particular passage of Scripture or defend a peculiar theological position, you will end up with numerous explanations and interpretations. Why is this? If there is One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism; if the Holy Spirit lives inside every Christian as their teacher and guide in everything pertaining to life and godliness, why can’t Evangelicals even agree on the basics of Christian faith? Evangelicals would agree that salvation is THE most important thing, yet ask them what a person must do to be saved or what are the prerequisites for salvation, be prepared for a litany of answers. If Evangelicals can’t figure out the nature and mode of salvation, how can they expect unregenerate people to figure it out?
Last week, I wrote a post titled Evangelical Literalism: A Day is a Day Except When It Isn’t. I showed that Evangelicals are only Bible literalists when it is convenient. As I previously stated, the Bible says God created the universe in six literal twenty-four-hour days. On this point, most Evangelicals agree. However, when the Bible says in Genesis 2:15-17:
And the Lord God took the man, and put him into the garden of Eden to dress it and to keep it, And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat: but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.
The word day — which is the same word as used in Genesis 1, clearly teaches that on the day Adam and Eve ate the fruit of the tree, they would die. Did they die? No. According to Genesis 5:5: . . . and all the days that Adam lived were nine hundred and thirty years: and he died. This means that there is an insurmountable contradiction between Genesis 1 and Genesis 2 — one of many, by the way. Evangelicals have no room for Bible contradictions in their worldview, so they come up with novel explanations to explain why “day” in Genesis 1 is a literal twenty-four-hour day, but day in Genesis 2 is not. Instead of letting the text speak for itself, Evangelicals are duty-bound to defend the inerrancy and infallibility of the Bible at all costs.
Dr. Dan McClellan talked about this issue in several short videos which follow. McClellan’s areas of specialization are Second Temple Judaism, early Israelite religion, textual criticism of the Hebrew Bible, early Christology, the cognitive science of religion, cognitive linguistics, and religious identity. He earned his PhD at the University of Exeter.
Another “doctor,” Dr. David Tee (whose real name is Derrick Thomas Thiessen), weighed in on my post. Tee allegedly has a doctorate, albeit from an institution he refuses to name. When asked about his refusal to share his academic credentials, Tee replied, “God knows, and that is all that matters.” Make of that what you will. Tee’s areas of expertise are “the Bible says,” “I am right,” and “unbelievers don’t know anything about the Bible.” Tee has been studying these issues his entire life, so much so that if Jesus himself came back from the dead and told him he was wrong, Tee would reply, “You aren’t a Christian, so you don’t know anything.”
Tee recently published yet another missive about me titled It is a Waste of Time. Here’s an excerpt from his post:
We wrote a guest post for the BG [The Life and Times of Bruce Gerencser] website talking about how it is a waste of time to present real physical evidence to many unbelievers. You do not even have to present it to them but write about it and the naysayers come out of the woodwork.
Unbelievers will find a way to dismiss any evidence presented to them even when the evidence has been accepted by both Christian and non-Christian scholars, archaeologists, and other scientists.
….
The evidence for what we have just said is found in the title of an internet article written by an [Bruce Gerencser] atheist after he read our post on Answering Issues From Science. His title is- Evangelical Literalism: A Day is a Day Except When It Isn’t.
His first line is:
All young-earth creationists are literalists, that is except when they aren’t. Let me illustrate this for you.
Despite thousands of years of accepted scholarship on the meaning of the word ‘yom’ and the words ‘evening and morning’ the unbelievers try to dismiss the evidence supporting the correct translation of those words.
Not only have we studied these words since Bible College days but we also rechecked what we knew and almost every website that came up in our search said the same thing- these words refer to a 24-hour day.
Accepting this correct rendition of those words is NOT being literal but holding to the truth. Unbelievers like to call Evangelicals literalists because that label helps them hide from the truth.
Sigh.(Why I Use the Word “Sigh.”) I believe I said in my post that the word day means a literal twenty-four-hour day. That’s the literal, actual definition of the word. So what’s Tee’s beef? That he is not being “literal” but “holding to the truth.” Huh?
Tee says my article is a response to a post of his, Answering Issues From Science. This is untrue. Tee wrote his post in July 2024. My post was originally written in September 2020.
First, he attacks us for the correct and truthful rendition of the word yom when it means a 24-hour day and then he attacks us for the correct rendition of the word yom when it does not mean a 24-hour day.
This person is just being irrational, and illogical and needs to say something outrageous to get Christians upset. When Christians are going for the truth, they are not being literal, they are being accurate. The word ‘yom’ has several meanings, just like the English word ‘day’ has.
It all has to do with context. The words ‘evening and morning’ provide the context to translate the word yom as a literal 24-hour day. The verse quoted above has the context that tells translators and students of the Bible to not translate the word yom as a 24-hour day.
The person who wrote that article flies in the face of accepted and legitimate scholarship and not just from the Christian side of the debate. There are those people claiming to be Christian who will side with the author of those quoted words. Augustine of Hippo was one of them and they are all wrong.
The reason they are wrong is because they do not want to accept God’s words but have already accepted what secular science and scientists have said. Instead of believing in an all-powerful God who can create in 6 24-hour days, they prefer to accept the words of dead humans who were unbelievers.
Tee proves my point, as does Dr. McClellan above. There’s no justification for “day” meaning a literal twenty-four-hour day in Genesis 1, but meaning something different in Genesis 2. The only reason Evangelicals are forced to interpret these verses differently is their commitment to Bible inerrancy. Adam and Eve, according to the inerrant, infallible Word of God, should have died on the very day they ate the fruit from the tree. That they didn’t means there is a contradiction between Genesis 1 and 2.
Those words show a complete misunderstanding of bible translation, hermeneutics, exegesis, and other scholarly biblical tools. They are spoken to protect the speaker from realizing the truth of Genesis 1 & 2.
Who is trying to keep people from the “truth”? It is Tee and his fellow inerrantists who are trying to force the Bible to fit their peculiar theology. Instead of letting each book of the Bible and each author speak for themselves, Evangelicals are duty-bound to make all the puzzle pieces fit. This is called univocality. In August 2009, Dr. McClellan wrote a short article titled On the Univocality of the Bible. Here’s what he had to say:
A common misapprehension among amateur and some professional Bible scholars is the assumption of the univocality of the Bible. According to this assumption, the Bible manifests a single theological and ecclesiastical paradigm which allows exegetes, in their minds, to appeal to and synthesize texts separated by several centuries and virtually irreconcilable worldviews in the interest of the extrapolation of doctrine and, secondarily, administrative guidelines.
I believe the root of this assumption is the belief that the Bible contains all the necessary information for the institutionalization and administration of a community of faith, which, in my opinion, seems to be related to the idea of biblical inerrancy. After all, conflicting theologies would all but undermine the “God-breathed” nature of all scripture, according to the more conservative definitions of inerrancy.
….
I take a different approach to interpreting doctrine in the Bible. I make no confession of biblical inerrancy, and I believe the biblical texts are in no way free from theological speculation, propaganda, polemic, rhetoric, and human error. I think that asserting the univocality of the Bible tangles up the exegete in the hermeneutic circle and in attempts to reconcile theological and administrative inconsistencies to contemporary dogmas.
While most Bible scholars aren’t often caught up in bickering about contradictions in the Bible and other apologetic arguments, I believe the assumption of biblical univocality still wriggles its way into academia. It is primarily manifested in attempts to homogenize or reconcile the theologies of diachronically distinct cultures and peoples. Early monarchic perspectives on the divine council, for instance, were not identical to those of Second Temple Judaism, which incorporated a conflated pantheon, an expanded angelology, and a more transcendant view of YHWH. Anthropomorphic perspectives of deity changed, as did ideas of monotheism, salvation, the source of evil, corporate responsibility, law, scripture, priesthood, nationalism, cult, and pretty much everything else. The New Testament, in and of itself, is no exception. I think these considerations need to be addressed before one can assert that “the Bible says” one thing or another, or that a scripture in John or the Psalms should be interpreted according to a specific paradigm because it is expounded upon that way in Genesis or Isaiah.
By the way, Dr. McClellan has had his own run-in with “Dr.” Tee. Tee, using a plethora of aliases, has spread his academic “expertise” far and wide across the Internet. Typically, he wears out his welcome and is sent packing. This, of course, appeals to his persecution complex. Tee reminds me of Evangelical street preacher, the late Jed Smock. (Please see My Life as a Street Preacher — Part Three) Smock and his wife, Cindy, preached on college campuses. Smock, who told me he hadn’t sinned in years, was famous for calling women wearing clothing he deemed sinful whores. On occasion, Smock’s vulgarity led to someone kicking his ass. Smock considered his beatings persecution. They weren’t. Smock got his ass kicked because he was a bully. Tee goes to Christian and atheist websites alike to share his Fundamentalist interpretations of the Bible. When rejected, he continues to “defend” what he calls the truth. Inevitably becoming argumentative and disparaging those who disagree with him, Tee ends up getting banned. In Tee’s mind, he is being persecuted for standing up for the truth.
For those of you raised in Evangelical churches, how did your pastors explain away the contradiction regarding the word “day” in Genesis 1 and 2? Please leave your astute observations 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.
