Menu Close

Category: Religion

Is Your Husband a Pastor?

Bruce Gerencser 5 Comments

pastorMy wife and I live in the rural Northwest Ohio community of Ney. Anyone driving US Highway 15 from Bryan to Defiance passes through the village of Ney. I am sure these passers-through are as irritated as I am by Ney’s lone traffic light. While there may have been a need at one time for the traffic light, that need lies buried in Ney’s long-forgotten past. There’s nothing more irritating than coming home late at night, knowing that there is not a car coming in either direction for miles, and sitting for what seems forever at Ney’s traffic light. There are times that I have had thoughts of ignoring the red light and continuing on to our home two blocks away. I don’t do so out of fear that the Highway Patrol or the Defiance County Sheriff is lurking nearby, waiting to pounce on disobedient drivers.

Ney, population 354, has two bars/restaurants, a hair salon, a gas station/convenience store, a smattering of businesses, including Defiance County Photo, and a post office. Ney does not have door-to-door mail delivery. This means that every resident has a post office box. Every day, Monday through Saturday, the postmaster and her assistant stuff the daily mail into the correct mailboxes. Items too large for the boxes are kept on a table near the service counter. Residents who have received such items find a yellow card in their mailbox. This card lets them know that there is a package or some sort of mail item requiring their signature waiting for them at the service counter. The post office service counter is open six hours a day during the week and three and a half hours on Saturday. Residents can access their mailboxes twenty-four hours a day.

Polly typically leaves for work around 4:15 PM each day. She is the one who normally gets the mail before she goes to work. Her almost-daily trips to the post office put her in contact with other locals. Ney is a friendly town, so it is not uncommon for people to strike up conversations while retrieving their mail. Today, Polly had someone ask her if I was a pastor. Polly, not wanting to engage the person in discussion about my loss of faith, replied, Bruce is retired. The woman went on to ask Polly if I would pray for her; that her significant other was sick and could die. I can think of no more difficult place for Polly or me be placed in than that of being asked to pray for someone who is going through a difficult time in her life. We want to be empathetic and caring, but at the same time we know that praying to a mythical God will accomplish nothing. In this particular case, Polly quickly changed the focus of the discussion from praying to having the woman share what she was going through. Polly, a pastor’s daughter and the wife of an Evangelical preacher for twenty-five years, knows that what most people really want and need is for someone to listen to them. The woman shared her anger towards God for letting her partner go through life-threatening suffering and pain. She wanted to know WHY this is happening to them. Some atheists might see the woman’s anguished questions as an opportunity to evangelize, but her pain was such that what she really needed was hearing someone say, I understand. Trying to evangelize someone at their lowest point is a common evangelistic method used by Evangelicals, but it shouldn’t be one used by atheists. What hurting people need is love, compassion, and genuine empathy. By choosing to empathize with the woman, Polly left the door open for further interaction. Perhaps there will come a time when she will have an opportunity to share her testimony; to share her story of losing her faith and how that loss has changed how she views the world. If not, that’s fine. Kindness towards others is always acceptable and appreciated.

I haven’t pastored a church since 2003, yet I still have locals ask me where I am pastoring. One man, every time I see him, asks, where are you pastoring these days? Not wanting to get into a discussion with him about my loss of faith, I quickly say, I’m not pastoring anywhere right now. While my answer is technically correct, I do feel a bit guilty about misleading him; as if there will EVER be a time when I pastor a church again. My pastoring days are over, yet no matter how vocal I am about atheism on this blog, and no matter how many letters I write to the editors of the local newspapers extolling atheism, humanism, and liberalism, there are still people who think I am Evangelical pastor. Their ignorance of my current state is made worse when they ask me or my wife to pray for them. I so want to say, God and I are not on speaking terms. Ten years ago, Jesus and I went through divorce, and we haven’t spoken to each other since. I do draw line at actually saying a prayer to just make someone happy. I won’t do it. But, it is not beneath me to show compassion towards religious people who naïvely think that their God is going to deliver them from whatever they are facing. God can’t help them any more than any of the TV doctors can help me with my medical problems. While Polly and I can’t offer anyone prayer, we can offer them love, compassion, and empathy. We generally care about the suffering of others. We can visualize how either of us might respond if one of us died. I can only imagine our grief, anguish, and heartache. And knowing how we might respond to similar circumstances, helps us — dare I use the word? — minister to others. When our lives are overwhelmed with chaos and grief, what we really need are people who understand. One needn’t be a pastor or even religious to be compassionate and understanding. One need only be human to understand the plight of others. On this particular day, Polly was given an opportunity to help someone who is going through a difficult patch. All the woman really needed was someone who would listen to her.

About Bruce Gerencser

Bruce Gerencser, 61, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 40 years. He and his wife have six grown children and twelve 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. For more information about Bruce, please read the About page.

Bruce is a local photography business owner, operating Defiance County Photo out of his home. If you live in Northwest Ohio and would like to hire Bruce, please email him.

Thank you for reading this post. Please share your thoughts in the comment section. If you are a first-time commenter, please read the commenting policy before wowing readers with your words. All first-time comments are moderated. If you would like to contact Bruce directly, please use the contact form to do so.

Donations are always appreciated. Donations on a monthly basis can be made through Patreon. One-time donations can be made through PayPal.

Songs of Sacrilege: Who Will Save Your Soul? by Jewel

Bruce Gerencser 0 Comments

jewel

This is the one hundred eighty-sixth 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 Who Will Save Your Soul? by Jewel.

Video Link

Lyrics

People living their lives for you on T.V.
They say they’re better than you and you agree
He says “Hold my calls from behind those cold brick walls”
Says “Come here boys, there ain’t nothing for free”
Another doctor’s bill, a lawyer’s bill
Another cute cheap thrill
You know you love him if you put in your will but

Who will save your soul when it comes to the flowers now
Huh huh who will save your soul after all the lies that you told, boy
And who will save your souls if you won’t save your own?

We try to hustle them, try to bustle them, try to cuss them
The cops want someone to bust down on Orleans Avenue
Another day, another dollar, another war, another tower
Went up where the homeless had their homes
So we pray to as many different Gods as there are flowers
We call religion our friend
We’re so worried about saving our souls
Afraid that God will take his toll
That we forget to begin but

Who will save your soul when it comes to the flowers now
Huh huh who will save your souls after all the lies that you told, boy
And who will save your souls if you won’t save your own?

Some are walking, some are talking, some are stalking and kill
You got social security, but it doesn’t pay your bills
There are addictions to feed and there are mouths to pay
So we bargain with the devil, so evil, careful do they say
That you love them take your money and run
Say it’s been swell, sweetheart, but it was just one of those things
Those flings, those strings you’ve got to cut
So get out on the streets, girls, and bust your butts

Who will save your soul when it comes to the flowers now
Huh huh who will save your soul after all the lies that you told, boy
And who will save your soul if you won’t save your own?

Songs of Sacrilege: I’ll Follow You Into the Dark by Death Cab For Cutie

Bruce Gerencser 0 Comments

death cab for cutieThis is the one hundred eighty-fifth 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 I’ll Follow You Into the Dark by Death Cab For Cutie.

Video Link

Lyrics

Love of mine, someday you will die
But I’ll be close behind and I’ll follow you into the dark
No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark

If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied
And illuminate the no’s on their vacancy signs
If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me,
Son, fear is the heart of love, so I never went back

You and me we’ve seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary and the soles of your shoes
Are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
But it’s nothing to cry about
‘Cause we’ll hold each other soon in the blackest of rooms

Songs of Sacrilege: What if God Was One of Us? by Joan Osborne

Bruce Gerencser 3 Comments

joan osborne

This is the one hundred eighty-fourth 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 What if God Was One of Us? by Joan Osborne.

Video Link

Lyrics

If God had a name what would it be?
And would you call it to his face?
If you were faced with Him in all His glory
What would you ask if you had just one question?

And yeah, yeah, God is great
Yeah, yeah, God is good
And yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah

What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Tryin’ to make his way home?

If God had a face what would it look like?
And would you want to see if, seeing meant
That you would have to believe in things like heaven
And in Jesus and the saints, and all the prophets?

And yeah, yeah, God is great
Yeah, yeah, God is good
And yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah

What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Tryin’ to make his way home?

Just tryin’ to make his way home
Like back up to heaven all alone
Nobody callin’ on the phone
‘Cept for the Pope maybe in Rome
And yeah, yeah, God is great
Yeah, yeah, God is good
And yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah
What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Tryin’ to make his way home?
Just tryin’ to make his way home
Like a holy rolling stone
Back up to heaven all alone
Just tryin’ to make his way home
Nobody callin’ on the phone
‘Cept for the Pope maybe in Rome

 

The Sounds of Fundamentalism: Catholic Woman Eats Puke Instead of Leaving Jesus in a Plastic Bag

Bruce Gerencser 4 Comments

communion wafer

This is the one hundred and eightieth installment in The Sounds of Fundamentalism series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a video clip that shows the crazy, cantankerous, or contradictory side of Evangelical Christianity, please send me an email with the name or link to the video. Please do not leave suggestions in the comment section.  Let’s have some fun!

Today’s Sound of Fundamentalism features a video clip from the Catholic program Take 2 with Jerry & Debbie. A woman by the name of Mary called in to tell a story about giving a hospitalized woman a communion wafer. The woman ate the wafer and immediately puked it up. The sick woman evidently received spoiled meat — remember the wafer is literally the flesh of Jesus. What did Mary do? She gathered up the puke-covered Jesus and put him in a bag. Faced with an existential crisis of leaving Jesus in a plastic bag, Mary decided to the eat the puke-covered Lord of Lords and King of Kings.

Lesson of the day? Sincere religious beliefs will make some people do bat-shit crazy stuff.

Video Link

On the Art of Deluding Ourselves by Paul Sunstone

Bruce Gerencser 0 Comments

deluding yourself

Paul Sunstone blogs at Café Philos: an internet café. We have been friends for many years.

Some long time ago, I married my first wife mainly for her looks.  However, I didn’t allow myself to think I was marrying her for her looks.  Instead, I talked myself into the conviction I was marrying her out of love for her.

As near as I can figure out, I told myself I was marrying her for love because I didn’t want to face the reality I was shallow enough to marry someone mainly for her looks.  Facing that reality would have required me to change how I thought of myself.  And rather than do that — change how I thought of myself — I changed my life.

Now, I would like to say the experience taught me a lesson, and I would never again make the same mistake.

Unfortunately, I am 52 years old — which is old enough to know I have at times in life repeated a mistake, even a grievous one.  There is no absolute guarantee, then, I would not do the same thing again.

It is not always easy to be mindful of how foolish one can be.  But to think we cannot be fools is — in my experience at least — simply a delusion.

Of course, to be deluded is one of the few things in life nearly everyone can excel at, no matter how little talent they have for anything else.  It seems delusions are not only easy to achieve, but that they are all but mandatory for our clever species of chimpanzee.  In fact, I don’t think one needs to be a cynic to acknowledge that we as a species are typically delusional through-out our lives and to one extent or another.

Thus, I am not optimistic I can live my life free of delusions.  I do believe, however, that I — or anyone else — can do somethings to improve the situation, and I’d like to talk about two of those things here.

The first thing we might do to improve the situation rests on the simple observation that everyone else’s delusions are typically more transparent to us than our own.  For instance:  It is quite easy for me to see how poorly reasoned are the various arguments against the Theory of Evolution because I myself don’t share in the delusion the Theory is false.  But it is far and away more difficult for me to see how dangerous to political freedom and civil liberties in this country are some of the policies adopted by President Obama because I strongly wish to believe he will set right all that has been set wrong in the past.  Of course, in this case I’m doing well to suspect I’m deluded about President Obama — for the most part, I have no inkling at all of my delusions.  Yet, my delusions might be quite transparent to someone else.

Since everyone else’s delusions are typically more transparent to us than our own, it follows that other people might help us get a handle on our own delusions.  The operative word there is “might”.  It is not always true they can or will.

Let’s turn now to another thing we can do to help us deal with the challenge of being a species prone to delusions.  Like the first thing I mentioned, this second thing also rests on a simple observation:  That is, we are very much inclined to delude ourselves whenever we fail to accept ourselves as we are.  Thus, to lessen our chances of self-delusion, it is ideal to as much as possible accept ourselves just as we are, without judgment — i.e. without condemnation or praise.

Perhaps it is intuitive that self-condemnation represents a rejection of ourselves — rather than an acceptance — but how does self-praise interfere with our accepting ourselves as we are?  I know from experience that self-praise does in fact interfere with accepting ourselves, but I have only a theory as to how it does that.  Praise, of course, is a form of judgment, and judgments are comparative.  When you judge something, you are comparing it to something.  So when we praise ourselves we are, on some level, comparing ourselves to something else and in effect saying that other thing is the more valuable.  I don’t know whether or not that’s really how it works — I only know from observation that self-praise is not self-acceptance.

After pointing out a couple minor ways in which we might manage our delusions, it might be worthwhile to briefly mention that societies can be seen as vast conspiracies to prop up various delusions.  I’m only half-joking here.  Of course it is easier to see how a society might be thought of as a bunch of people engaged in a conspiracy to delude themselves when you are looking at someone else’s society besides your own.  And it is easier to see how your own society might be thought of that way when you are not busy judging it.   My purpose, though, in half-jokingly calling societies “vast conspiracies” is to point out that our species is not only prone to delusions, but that most of us are now and then engaged in helping each other maintain our delusions.  At least some of our delusions.

Just consider for a moment the tremendous money, talent and energy that is each day put into perpetuating the Western myth that for each person in this world there is one — and only one — other person who is a perfect mate, a soul mate.  So far as I can see, that notion is delusional.  Yet, it’s among the most popular notions of our time and the resources spent on perpetuating it are nearly astronomical.

Now, against that backdrop, consider some of the challenges we face in trying to manage our delusions.  I have pointed out two minor ways that might help manage them, but even if someone were to assiduously practice both of those ways, they would still be swimming in a social sea of delusions.  So far as I can see, societies have always been, and always will be, something akin to vast conspiracies to prop up various delusions.  Perhaps it is impossible, then, for an individual to live a relatively realistic life without to some extent being alienated from his or her society.

Human nature is prone to delusion.  It seems almost all of us excel in the art of deluding ourselves. Perhaps most of our delusions are comparatively harmless.  Now and then, though, some delusions might lead us to make unwise choices.  It is probably for the best then that we are mindful of our capacity to be deluded and do what we can to be realistic.

— Paul Sunstone, Café Philos: an internet café, On the Art of Deluding Ourselves, August 2, 2018

Songs of Sacrilege: Craig by Stephen Lynch

Bruce Gerencser 1 Comment

Craig by Stephen Lynch

This is the one hundred eighty-third 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 Craig by Stephen Lynch.

Video Link

Lyrics

Everyone knows Jesus,
The man who healed the lame,
But I am Jesus’ brother:
Craig is my name.

Jesus is the Prince of Peace,
Jesus is the Lamb,
Jesus is the Son of God,
But Craig don’t give a damn.

Because when Craig’s in sight,
We’ll party all damn night!
I don’t turn water into wine,
But into cold Coors Light!
I’m not my brother, I know,
Don’t walk on H2O,
But I got hydroponic shit that me and Judas grow!

I’m fuckin’ Craig!
I’m fuckin’ Craig!
Yeah, I’m fuckin’ Craig!
Craig Christ.

I hang out with lepers,
Barabas and Salome.
Jesus’ friends are called Apostles;
Those dudes are totally gay.

Jesus performs miracles
From Galilee to Rome,
But it would be a miracle
If he brought a fuckin’ lady home.

Because while Jesus is prayin’,
Fuckin’ Craig is layin’
Every lady in the Testament,
You know what I’m sayin’?
I won’t die for your sin
Like my famous kin,
But if you’ve got a little sister,
Then there’s room at this inn!

I’m fuckin’ Craig!
Yeah, I’m fuckin’ Craig!
I’m fuckin’ Claagh!
Craig Christ.

Jesus was our mother’s fave.
All her love to him she gave.
But there’s no sibling rivalry
When he’s nailed to that tree! Yeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhhh!

And now the question for you,
Is not “What Would Jesus Do?”,
But where will you be
When the Craig Machine comes partyin’ through?
And if the Lord will allow,
You’ve got to ask yourself how,
And who and why and when and where is your messiah now?

It’s fuckin Craig!
It’s Fuckin’ Craig!
Fuckin’ Craig!
Fuckin’ Craig!
I’m fuckin’ Craig!
Craig Christ.
Craig Christ.
Craig Christ.
I’m fuckin’ Craig.

Christians Say the Darnedest Things: Reading Atheist Blogs is Like Looking at Porn

Bruce Gerencser 5 Comments

science antidote to religion

In addition to avoiding gazing at people no one really wants to see naked anyway, one of the things I believe I absolutely have to do in my quest for godly obedience is to give up my bad habit of occasionally scanning atheist blogs just to see what the pseudo-intellectual blowhards are up to and, as rare as the instances are these days, I need to stop interacting with them.

In my opinion, their drivel is not much better than looking at porn. Yes, there are distinctions between the two but they have a huge common denominator in the sense that they are both poison to your mind.

Atheists believe that everything in life has a purely material basis. They completely deny the existence of anything spiritual. They believe that all our thoughts, dreams, passions, loves, hates, hopes, ambitions, virtues, sins, and sufferings are driven solely by atomic activity. They believe that all our philosophies, politics, cultures, art, literature, music, history, as well as our deepest desire for eternal life and all that is transcendent in the world—that is, the good, the true, and the beautiful—that all of this is purely the result of biochemical reactions and the random movement of molecules in an empty and lifeless ether. This is not science—it’s faith.

What’s more, it’s an irrational faith that serves as the foundation for all superstition. Indeed, atheism is a whole system of beliefs—a system that has its own philosophy (materialism), morality (relativism), politics (social Darwinism), and culture (secularism). It even has its own sacraments (abortion, infanticide, and euthanasia). And this system of beliefs has been responsible for more death, carnage, persecution, and misery than any system of beliefs the world has ever known.

Face it folks, atheism is horrible thinking. No matter how logical it may appear, when it is stripped of its pompous proclamations and arrogant allegations, its naked soul is seen for what it really is: weak, illogical, unscientific, and worthless.

Like a train wreck, I understand that it’s hard to look away sometimes but, exposing yourself to it too often is a dangerous and, for lack of a better word, stupid practice.

Atheists who read this, and there are some who troll this blog just to use what they read here as fodder for their own blog posts and in their conversations, will see my admission that atheism is dangerous and to be avoided as a win for their side and a lame cop out from me.

They will say I can’t handle the truth of their claims or hold a candle to their their extensive intellects, educations, or life experiences.

They will say I’m afraid of admitting I’m wrong about faith because doing so will virtually ensure that I will be shunned by my church, community, employer, or something.

Or they will claim I am warning the “duped and gullible” to stay clear of the “forbidden fruit” atheists offer because just one taste and the walls any sensible person’s faith will immediately begin to crumble.

Nonsense, all of it! [ this Christian doth protest too much, methinks.]

— Isaiah 53:5, The Isaiah 53:5 Project, Naked and Afraid of Atheists, July 27, 2018

How Many Grandchildren Do We “Really” Have?

Bruce Gerencser 9 Comments
grandchildren 2017
Our eleven Grandchildren, Easter 2017

My wife and I have twelve grandchildren, ranging in age from two months to seventeen years. Each one of these precious children is part of the Gerencser family. Polly and I have never made a distinction between grandchildren and step-grandchildren. We’ve never understood this obsession with blood children. If a child is part of one of our children’s families, he or she is our grandchild. It matters not to us if Gerencser sperm or egg played a part in their conception. We have never said of our grandchildren, even one time, that this or that child is a step-grandchild. Come Christmas, every grandchild is treated equally. We’ve never had the thought of treating some of our grandchildren differently because they were not 100% Gerencser. Unfortunately, Polly’s Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) family views things differently.

Polly and I recently traveled to Newark, Ohio to visit her mom in the hospital. My mother-in-law was scheduled for cancer surgery, and the day before surgery she developed heart problems which landed her in the hospital. Unbeknownst to me, Polly’s mom asked her how many grandchildren we had. When Polly said twelve, her mom replied, “yeah but all of them aren’t yours.” Polly replied, “yes they are,” to which her mom replied, “well, you know…. ” If I had been there I would’ve likely asked, “know what?” Of course, both Polly and I already know the answer to this question. In Polly’s parents’ minds, it’s blood that matters. This has been a common theme throughout the years. My youngest daughter received the same treatment the next day when asked about her oldest daughter — a child from a previous relationship of her husband. Much like her parents, our daughter does not make a distinction between stepchildren and “real” children. It’s absurd and offensive to even think this way. I like to think that this is a generational issue; one where older generations believe blood and name matter and that children and grandchildren who aren’t their blood or don’t carry their name shouldn’t expect the same kind gift or money on birthdays or Christmas as those who have the proper pedigree. I’ve come to the conclusion that there is no hope of fixing this type of thinking apart from death. As with many social ills, it takes the death of a generation to get beyond them.

ezra martin august 2017
Ezra, our latest grandchild, two months old. Born six-weeks premature, he was released from NICU several weeks ago and he is now packing on the weight.

Polly and I have two grandchildren who have either a different father or mother than a Gerencser. One grandchild is seventeen and will graduate from high school this coming spring. This girl has been in our lives since she was a toddler. She may have a different name, but she is very much a part of our lives. My son and her mother went through divorce last year. There’s no Gerencser in the home; that is, except our four grandchildren. No matter who marries whom and what happens in the future, there’s a hard, fast rule in our family: once a Gerencser, always a Gerencser. It is cruel for someone to be a part of a child’s life for years, and then, due to divorce or other social upheaval, walk away from him or her. I’ve never understood people who can do this. When our granddaughter graduates in the spring, we will be there. When she plays basketball games this winter, we will be there. Whatever comes her way — today, tomorrow, or a decade from now — we will be there. The same goes for our four-year-old step-granddaughter. We have known her pretty much from birth. She is every bit as much our grandchild as any of our grandchildren who have the “proper” DNA. We will be in her life from preschool to the day that she says “I do” — that is, if we live long enough. You see, what grandchildren really need is love and support; and Polly and I have enough of that for all of them. We wish that Polly’s family had the same, but they don’t, and it’s their loss. They are missing out on wonderful opportunities to have awesome relationships with two beautiful children. It makes me wonder about all their talk about the love of Jesus for sinners. Are these children not sinners worthy of love? And if their daughter and son-in-law say “these are ours,” shouldn’t they accept that and do all they can to be the best great-grandparents possible? I will never understand the kind of thinking that divides families according to DNA. I don’t get it, and I never will.

For a number of years, Polly and I took in foster kids. At the time, we had three children of our own. Many of these children were teenagers. Some of them were with us for weeks, but others were long-term placements. Our three children have many memories of their experiences with JR, Steve, Floyd, Roseann, Tonya, and Linda. For a number of months, a black girl by the name Tracy lived with us. Her placement was unusual because this made her the only black child in the school district. When our first two children were very young, a troubled church girl lived with us for almost a year. Years later, she would tell someone we knew that we made a big difference in her life. It’s gratifying to hear from children who lived with us, thanking us for loving them. And therein lies the core issue for Polly and me. These children, regardless of whom their parents were or what horrific experiences they had their life, we loved them as if they were our own children. Granted, some of the teenagers who went through our home didn’t want our love. In fact, they didn’t want anything from us. But we loved them anyway. Why? First, because of Jesus. We believed, at the time, that Jesus loved everyone; and if Jesus loved everyone, so should we. Second, it was inconceivable to us that we could love one child more than another. Who thinks like this? “Oh, you have the right DNA so I’m gonna love you more than these children who are placed in our home after being raped by their stepfather or abused by their parents”? Where’s the Christianity in that kind of thinking?

Here’s what I know: Bruce and Polly Gerencser are going to love every child that comes into their lives, regardless of their lineage. By God, if we can unconditionally love the feral cats that frequent our backyard and care for them spring, summer, fall, and winter, we can certainly — without reservation and a test from 23andMe — unconditionally love our grandchildren — all twelve of them. That’s just how we are, and we feel sorry for people who can’t see beyond the names on birth certificates.

Religion, Death, and the Afterlife: St. Catherine of Alexandria, Columbia City, Indiana

Bruce Gerencser 2 Comments

st catherine of alexandria columbia city indiana 2018 (6)

As many of you know, Polly and I travel the highways and byways of Northwest Ohio, Northeast Indiana, and Southeast Michigan looking for photography opportunities. I have developed an interest in how we as Americans — particularly Midwesterners — memorialize life and death.  Of special interest is the various means religious people use to remember the dead. This interest might seem odd for someone who is an atheist, but I am attracted to roadside memorials and cemeteries. From time to time, I plan to share a few of the photographs I’ve shot while stalking death.

I shot these photographs at the St. Catherine of Alexandria in Columbia City, Indiana.

st catherine of alexandria columbia city indiana 2018 (5)

Bruce Gerencser