You have contacted me several times in recent years via Facebook, hoping to reconnect with the man you once called Pastor. Shockingly, you found out that I am no longer a Christian; that I no longer believe the Bible is the Word of God; that I proudly self-identify as an atheist and a humanist. I can only imagine how difficult and heartbreaking it was for you to read my blog for the first time. You are not the first former church member to feel this way. I am sure you hoped that you would find me faithfully serving Jesus, preaching the gospel, and winning souls to Christ. Instead, you found out that I have repudiated all that I once believed and preached.
We were Facebook friends for a short while, and then you unfriended me. I told you that I understood your decision to unfriend me. I know my story can be troubling and disconcerting to those who were once close to me. You sent me another friend request, yet before I could accept it, you thought better of friending me and deleted the request. Again, I understand. You have a hard time reconciling the Bruce who was your pastor in the 1980s, and the Bruce of today. Because your worldview requires you to frame and measure everything according to your interpretation of the Bible, you find it impossible to square my life today with that of thirty-plus years ago. From a theological perspective, the current Bruce Gerencser is a lost man headed for Hell, yet you remember a Bruce Gerencser who loved God and devoted his life to following after Jesus.
Set the religious stuff aside for a moment. Instead of attempting to see me through religious eyes, how about seeing me through human eyes? The kind, loving, compassionate, temperamental, flawed man who pastored Somerset Baptist Church decades ago still exists. The man you have such fond memories of is still alive and well — though physically in poor health. From a human perspective, I haven’t changed much. The character strengths and flaws I had as your pastor still exist today. Next month, I will turn sixty-four, and if there is one thing I have learned, it is this: humans rarely change. We are, character-wise, who we are. While my beliefs, politics, and worldview have dramatically changed over the years, my nature has not. Sure, age, sickness, and time have affected me, as they do all of us, but, for the most part, I am not much different today from who I was during the exciting days when Somerset Baptist was a thriving, growing church.
If you can ever look beyond your theological beliefs and see Bruce, the man, you will find out that the man you once loved and respected is right in front of you. Sadly, many Evangelicals cannot see people for who they are because their theological beliefs force them to define people according to what the Bible says instead of what they can see with their eyes. Your fellow Christians routinely savage me. I have been repeatedly told that I am evil and a follower of Satan. Evidently, what I believe, and not my behavior, determines what kind of man I am. The moment I said, I no longer believe in the Christian God, I went from a loving husband, father, and grandfather to a man who is worthy of scorn and derision; a man, some say, who is hiding a life of debauchery and licentiousness.
You have two choices set before you, Wendy. Either you can embrace and befriend the Bruce of 2021, or you can hang on to the memory of the 1987 Bruce. I would love to be friends with you in the here and now, but life is too short for me to worry about people who cannot see beyond my beliefs and are thus unable or unwilling to befriend me. Virtually all of my former Evangelical friends, parishioners, and ministerial colleagues, have been unable to remain friends with me post-Jesus. I understand why this is so. Fidelity to Jesus and the Bible was the glue that held our relationships together. Once I deconverted, that which bound us was gone. Rare are friendships that survive for a lifetime. Today, almost thirteen years after I attended church for the last time, I have two Evangelical friends. Everyone else has written me off or turned me into a sermon illustration, a warning of what happens when someone no longer believes the Bible is true.
Since you can’t seem to bring yourself to befriend me as I now am, you are left with your memories of the time we spent together in the rolling hills of Southeast Ohio. And that’s okay. I, too, have many fond memories of the eleven years I pastored Somerset Baptist Church. Nothing in the present can change the experiences of the past. If it helps you think better of me, then, by all means, cling to our shared memories, pushing from your mind thoughts of Atheist Bruce. If you ever want to be friends again, you know where to find me.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 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.
Emmanuel Baptist Church, Buckeye Lake, Ohio, Bruce Gerencser’s ordination April 1983, age 25
Several years ago, I received the following email:
I read your blog. Thanks for sharing. I have been an Evangelical Christian since I was 5. I accepted Jesus of the Bible at that time. When I read your “Why I Hate Jesus”, it made me sad. I couldn’t help but think that you have had a lot of pain from people who profess Jesus Christ and that Jesus Himself has let you down. I did have a question. On your ABOUT page, the question was “when were you called into the ministry. ” If you don’t believe in Jesus anymore, who do you think called you into the ministry?
In this post, I want to focus on the question, “If you don’t believe in Jesus anymore, who do you think called you into the ministry?”
This is a fairly common question I am asked when someone is trying to square my current atheistic life with that of the twenty-five years I spent in the ministry. I believed that it was GOD who called me into the ministry, but now I believe that this same God is a fiction. If God doesn’t exist, who is it then that spoke to my “heart” as a fifteen-year-old boy, telling me that I was to be a pastor, a preacher of the good news of the gospel?
The Evangelical culture I grew up in emphasized the importance of boys and girls growing up to be full-time servants of Jesus Christ. Children and teenagers were encouraged to pray and ask God if he wanted them to devote their lives to the ministry, be it as a pastor, evangelist, or missionary. As Hannah did with Samuel, parents were challenged to give their children over to God, hoping that he might see fit to use them in a mighty way to advance his Kingdom. Pastors considered it a sign of God’s favor if teen boys were called to preach under their ministry. Like the gunslingers of yesteryear, pastors put a notch on their gospel gun every time a boy surrendered to the ministry.
Being called to full-time service means you are special, uniquely chosen by God to do his work. From the moment a boy says, preacher, I think God is calling me to preach, he is treated by the church as some sort of extraordinary human being. I heard countless preachers say that being called into the ministry was the greatest calling in the world; that becoming President of the United States would be a step down from the ministry. Preacher boys — as young men called into the ministry are often nicknamed — are quickly given preacher things to do. No time is better than NOW, I was told, to start serving God and preaching his Word. I preached my first sermon to the Junior High Sunday school class two weeks after I stood before the church and said, God is calling me to be a preacher. I spent the next few years honing my preaching skills at youth meetings, nursing homes, and any other place that didn’t mind hearing the ramblings of an inexperienced, uneducated boy preacher. By the time I delivered my last sermon in April 2005, I had preached 4,000+ messages, often preaching three or more sermons a week.
What I have written above is key to answering the question, “If you don’t believe in Jesus anymore, who do you think called you into the ministry?” Since I don’t think God exists, the only way I can possibly answer this question is from an environmental, psychological, cultural, and sociological perspective. It is important to remember that it is not necessary for God to exist for people to believe that he does. Billions of people believe in a supernatural deity/force that does not exist. Every day, billions of people will pray to, worship, and swear allegiance to deities that cannot be seen, heard, or touched. These deities can, however, be felt, and it is these feelings that lead people to believe that their invisible God is indeed real. Thus, I KNOW that God called me into the ministry because I “felt” him speak to me. This is no different from the five-year-old Bruce Gerencser believing that Santa Claus somehow came down the chimney every Christmas Eve and put presents under the tree just for him. Of course, time, experience, and knowledge caused me to see that my beliefs about Santa were false, as they did when it came to my beliefs about God.
These religious feelings and beliefs of mine were reinforced by the Bible. Various verses in the Word of God speak of men who are called to be pastors/elders/bishops/missionaries/evangelists. Variously interpreted by Christian sects, all agree on one point: God calls boys/men (and in some cases, girls/women) into the ministry. This calling is essentially God laying his hand on someone and saying, I have set you apart for my use. Church youngsters are regaled with stories about men and women called by God who did great works. From the Bible, stories of the faith-driven exploits of Noah, Moses, David, Gideon, Elijah, Elisha, Joshua, the apostles, and Paul are used as reminders of what God can and will do for those willing to dedicate their lives to serving him. Church children are encouraged to read the biographies of men (and a few women) mightily used by God. I heard more than a few preachers say, look at what God did through Charles Spurgeon, John Wesley, Dwight Moody, Bob Jones, John R. Rice, Billy Sunday, Adoniram Judson, Andrew Fuller, David Brainerd, Jonathan Edwards, George Whitefield, Charles Finney, Jack Hyles, B.R. Lakin, and countless other servants of God. Who knows what God might do through you if you will dare to surrender your life to him? What young preacher boy wouldn’t want to be someday used by God like these men?
I spent thirty-three years believing that God had called me to preach the unsearchable riches of Jesus Christ; that this calling was irrevocable; that misery and judgment (and perhaps death) awaited if I failed to obey God. The Apostle Paul said in First Corinthians 9:16:
For though I preach the gospel, I have nothing to glory of: for necessity is laid upon me; yea, woe is unto me, if I preach not the gospel!
As with Paul, Bruce the Evangelical preacher had a burning desire to preach the gospel; to tell as many people as possible that Jesus alone can save them from their sin; that there is a Hell to shun and a Heaven to gain; that what is a man profited if he gain the world and lose his soul. I shed countless tears over the lost — both in and out of the church. I spent untold hours praying for revival to break out in America, spreading to the ends of the earth. Believing Jesus was coming back to earth soon, I devoted myself to making sure as many people as possible heard the gospel. I thought, at the time, my duty is to tell them. It is up to God to save them. For many years, my evangelistic zeal burned so hot that I preached a minimum of four sermons a week, along with preaching on the streets and holding services at the local nursing home and county jail. To quote the motto of Midwestern Baptist College — the institution I attended in the 1970s — Souls for Jesus is Our Battle Cry, Souls for Jesus is Our Battle Cry. We Never Will Give in While Souls are Lost in Sin, Souls for Jesus is Our Battle Cry!
My burning the candle at both ends wouldn’t have been possible if I didn’t believe that God had called me into the ministry and was speaking to and through me. I believed that this God existed. I may never have seen God or audibly heard him, but I felt his presence in my life. I “heard” the Holy Spirit speaking to me, leading me, and teaching me truth. These experiences of mine were verified by what I read in the Bible and Christian biographies and what I observed in the lives of my pastors, teachers, and mentors. Most of all, they were verified by the work God accomplished through my preaching and leadership. How then, knowing these things, can I now believe that God is a work a fiction; that my ministerial experiences were the work, not of God/Jesus/Holy Spirit, but the works of a quite-human Bruce Gerencser?
The deconversion process afforded me the opportunity to step back from my life and view it from a distance. As I looked at my parents’ religious, theological, social, and political leanings and that of the pastors of the churches we attended, it would have been shocking if I hadn’t, as a teenager, professed that God was calling me into the ministry. At age five, while we were living in San Diego and attending Scott Memorial Baptist Church (Scott Memorial was pastored by Tim LaHaye), I told my mother that I was going to be a preacher someday. Not a baseball player, policeman, or garbage truck driver — a preacher! This, of course, pleased my Mom. (Ironically, neither my mother or father ever heard me preach.) When people talked about the angst they had over trying to determine what they wanted to do with their lives when they grew up, I had no frame of reference. I never wrestled with what I wanted to be as an adult. I always wanted to be a preacher, and by God’s wonderful, matchless grace, that is exactly what I became. Everything I experienced in my life led me to the monumental day at Trinity Baptist Church in Findlay, Ohio, when, with tears and trembling, I told the church God was calling me into the ministry. Scores of fellow church members shouted Amen! and later hugged me, telling me that they would pray for me. I am sure that more than a few people had mixed feelings about my calling. Really Lord? Are you sure you can use this temperamental, ornery redheaded boy? I have often wondered what my peers thought as I went from the boy who told the youth director to fuck off! to a young man who loved Jesus, carried his Bible to school, handed out tracts to his unsaved friends, went soulwinning, worked on a bus route, and occasionally preached at Sunday evening youth meetings. The old Bruce, who wore frayed jeans, boots, and tee-shirts to church, gave way to the New Bruce, who wore preacher clothes, including ties. What’s next? Swearing off girls? Anyone who knew me as a preacher boy knows I resolutely obeyed the Baptist Rulebook®. (Please read The Official Independent Baptist Rulebook) I didn’t smoke, drink, cuss, listen to rock music, or engage in premarital sex. I had plenty of girlfriends, but I drew the line at kissing, holding hands, and putting our arms around each other. My commitment to virginity was part of my devotion to God. As much as I wanted to have sex, I willingly took many a cold shower, keeping myself pure until my wedding day.
Most Baptist preachers will likely say that they just KNEW God was calling them to preach. If they are still Christians, I am sure they attribute their feelings to supernatural intervention. It’s all because of J-E-S-U-S, not me, I’m sure they’ll say, yet the signs in front of their churches say Rev. So-and-So, Pastor. You see, the whole notion of being called by God is rooted not in the supernatural, but in earthly human experiences. My Baptist faith taught me to call my interest in the ministry a calling from God, but in truth, it was the natural outcome of my upbringing and experiences. My entrance into the preaching fraternity was never in doubt. How could I not have become a preacher?
There is nothing in my story that requires the actual existence of a supernatural deity. All that is required is that I, along with the other players in my life, believe God exists. For my first fifty years of life, I believed that the Evangelical God was every bit a real as the sun, moon, stars, and earth. And now I don’t. Does this invalidate my years in the ministry? Of course not. All that has changed is my perspective and how I see my trajectory from a sinner to a Holy Spirit-led follower of Jesus Christ. Instead of God being the first cause, I now know that environmental, psychological, cultural, and sociological influences molded me into the man who would one day preach thousands of sermons in churches in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Congregants called me Pastor Bruce, Rev. Gerencser, or Preacher — the man of God who spoke the Word of God to the people of God. I now know who I really was . . . his name is Bruce.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 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.
Earlier this week, an Evangelical man named Daniel Kluver decided to contact my wife on Facebook. (Please see Evangelical Man Messages My Wife on Facebook.) Kluver also messaged me (please see Another Facebook Message From an Evangelical Zealot) and left comments on my posts on Facebook. Kluver has since blocked me on Facebook — my demonic power must be too strong for him. Before he blocked me, he sent me one more message.
Here’s what Kluver had to say. My response is indented and italicized.
You morphs are just confirmation of the times we are in.
Kluver says I am a “morph.” I had no idea what this term meant. I found out the word has several technical meanings. The word is also listed in the Urban Dictionary, and I suspect this is the definition Kluver wants to use.
A morph is “a person who acts like an idiot, a person who acts like a crackhead.” I don’t use crack, so I assume that Kluver is calling me an idiot.
You have shown that you don’t love or fear god and you are useless now!
I am an atheist, so of course I don’t love nor fear Kluver’s God. Said God is a mythical being, a work of fiction. I can say the same thing about every extant God. I do, however, fear the worshipers of deities. People cause harm, not gods. Beliefs cause harm, not gods.
Kluver says that because I don’t love or fear his God that I am “useless.” I have no idea what he means.
Your opinions are slanderous and you have become just like satan whom you serve. A stumbling block to some. Just a bunch of hot air to others.
To devout Fundamentalist Christians such as Kluver, I am sure my writing seems slanderous. My goal has always been to help those who have questions/doubts about Christianity or have left Christianity. My target audience has NEVER been saved, sanctified, all-hopped-up-on-Jesus Christians. If such people read my writing, it is because they choose to do so. Don’t want to get your panties in a bunch? Don’t want to feel righteous indignation? Don’t want to get angry? Then don’t read my writing.
Kluver seems to forget that he is the one who commented on this blog, and he is the one who contacted my wife and me on Facebook. I left Christianity thirteen years ago. Not one time I have ever contacted a Christian and tried to convert them to atheism. I abhor such behavior. I do, however, respond to Christians who email me, leave comments on this site, or comment on social media. My nuclear policy is this: no first strike.
Lost on Kluver is the fact that if I don’t believe in the existence of God, neither do I believe in the existence of Satan/Lucifer/Devil/Beelzebul/Day-Star/Son of the Morning/The Evil One/Father of Lies/Ruler of this World/God of this Age/Angel of Light/Roaring Lion/Destroyer/Apollyon/Abaddon/Serpent/Deceiver of the World/Accuser of God’s People. No matter what name you give her, I don’t believe she exists.
Kluver believes I am a stumbling block to some Christians. He is, of course, right. I know that many Christians find my story and my critiques of Evangelicalism to be troubling and disconcerting. Former parishioners and colleagues in the ministry have told me that my writing so troubles them that they can’t read it. Why is that? I am just one man with a story to tell. If my writing causes followers of Jesus to doubt their beliefs, why am I to blame? I make no effort to evangelize people. Millions of people have read my writing over the years, many of whom are Christian. I am humbled by the sheer number of people who think my writing is worth reading. I sure as hell wouldn’t read this shit! 🙂 If readers find help and encouragement from my writing, I am grateful. Grateful to whom, you ask? Loki, of course. 🙂
I started blogging in 2007. At the time, I was still a Christian — barely. Since that time, I have heard from scores of people who have been helped by my writing, some of whom deconverted after reading my work. Do I find satisfaction in people deconverting? Sure. I am persuaded that any move away from Christian Fundamentalism is a good one. If my writing helps someone break free from the pernicious clutches of Evangelicalism, I count myself blessed. Blessed by whom, you ask? Loki, of course. 🙂
Kluver believes I am full of hot air. Maybe. However, I suspect that Kluver thinks my educated opinions about Evangelical Christianity are what he is calling “hot air.” The traffic numbers for this site suggest that there are a lot of people who seem to like “hot air.” I encourage Kluver to start his own blog. By all means, rage against the evil atheist Bruce Gerencser. Deconstruct my story and attack my beliefs. Nail me to a cross and metaphorically crucify me. My life and work are an open book. By all means, blast away! (A number of Evangelical zealots have done just that over the years. They miserably failed, abandoning their attempts to deconstruct my life.)
Rough times ahead just right around the corner for those who hate god.
Yet another passive-aggressive threat from Kluver. What, exactly, lies ahead for those who “hate God?” Need I remind Kluver that atheists don’t hate God? Atheists don’t hate mythical beings. Wouldn’t it be silly to do so?
You’re wrong about who dies when you said that we will both die. Believers never die!
*sigh* Both Kluver and I will one day die. I am sixty-three, and he is sixty-four. We are in the final stretch of life. If I live to age seventy, that means ninety percent of my life is over. I hope that I live that long, but I have my doubts. Gastroparesis, fibromyalgia, and osteoarthritis are taking their toll on my body. I know death is stalking me, just as it is Daniel Kluver. Unfortunately, Kluver thinks he’s never going to die; that the moment he draws his last breath in this life, he will awake in Heaven. This, of course, is not taught in the Bible. Orthodox Christian theology teaches people — saved and lost — remain in the grave until they are resurrected from the dead and judged by God. Kluver and I are headed for the same place — the grave.
I am amazed at your ignorance and you probably were thrown out of the congregation that you say you were pastoring. I doubt that much of what you said is true!
I am amazed at my ignorance too. There is so much that I don’t know.
Kluver ends his message by trying to inflict as much emotional pain as possible. It’s evident he wants to hurt me. Thus, he calls me a liar, doubts my story is true, and says I was thrown out of the congregation I pastored.
I do my best to give an open, honest accounting of my life — past and present. I just completed a five-part series titled I am a Publican and a Heathen, detailing my excommunication from Community Baptist Church in Elmendorf, Texas. I also wrote a post about what happened to the churches I pastored. Please read What Happened to the Churches I Pastored?
Why don’t you get a job?
Well, I am disabled and retired. Had Kluver bothered to read more than the five posts he read on this site, he might have known this. He might have learned about my struggles with chronic illness and pain. He might also have learned that I can no longer drive. Believe me, if someone had a job opening for a broken-down, sick old man like me, I would take it.
Not that I don’t work, I do. It takes me hours each day to write for this blog. While I don’t make much money from blogging, I do treat it as a job. I also manage my sister’s business website. Throw in the money I make from stripping on the weekends, and I am rolling in cash from the “work” I do. Of course, Kluver uses “Why don’t you get a job?” as a way to inflict emotional pain. My beliefs no longer matter to him; he’s out for blood.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 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.
On the last Sunday in November 2007, my wife and I walked out of the Ney United Methodist Church for the last time. We decided that we were done with Christianity, that whatever we were, we weren’t Christians. Initially, I claimed the agnostic label. Several months later, I abandoned this label, choosing instead to self-identify as an atheist. Thirteen years later, I am still an atheist.
While my beliefs have become more nuanced over time, I remain unconvinced that the central claims of Christianity are true. (Please see The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.) Thousands of Evangelical/Roman Catholic/Greek Orthodox/Muslim apologists have emailed me or left comments on this site. Their objective? To evangelize me or reclaim me for Jesus. Whether the goal is salvation or restoration, they hope I will see the “light” and abandon atheism. That hasn’t happened, and it is unlikely to happen in the future. There remains no new argument for apologists to make for Christianity. I have heard their best (and worst) arguments. What could they possibly say that would change my mind?
I am a confirmed apostate, a heretic, and a reprobate. I am NOT a prospect for Heaven. With all the low-hanging fruit in the world, why do zealots bother with me? Is it that they really care for my “soul”? Or is it that they have a pathological need to hear themselves talk? Maybe they think that there is a .00000001 percent chance that their words will strike pay dirt; that I will repent and rejoin Jesus’s blood-washed band. Trust me when I say . . . that ain’t going to happen! Winning the lottery has better odds than me becoming a Christian again.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Recently, a Christian man by the name of Roger sent me the following email:
Interesting story. I think you’re right on that fundamentalism is idiotic. You’ve spelled that out quite well. Pastors are mostly egomaniacs as you rightly point out. But you could just ask them to find this pastor in the Bible (along with their whole church edifice and all its trappings) and you expose their empty hypocrisy. You don’t need to pick apart the Bible to destroy fundamentalism. They don’t even apply the Bible they claim to preach.
The problem you fail to see is that atheism is equally if not more stupid than fundamentalism. Why do these annoying atheists keep making moral claims? Why do they whine all day about how unjust hell is or how evil the biblical God is? Who are you, you evolved rodent, to make such an appeal to what is evil or unjust? Good and evil are just socially evolved constructs, right? So stop the whining. But atheists never stop whining. Atheists in my experience are actually highly moral people and constantly appeal to moral / ethical claims. The fact is the notion of morality and ethics is simply hard-wired into the human mind whether you like or it not. But atheists’ lack of self awareness about this is more annoying than fundamentalists telling me the earth is 6000 years old. It’s just theft. They’re stealing from the theists that they mock in this regard. They live in their own bubble, just like you accuse the fundamentalists of.
According to Roger, atheists are worse than Christian Fundamentalists. Atheists lack self-awareness, and have no morality or ethics of their own. Atheists are just stupid people who spend their waking hours whining about harmful Christian beliefs. Good to know, right?
I suspect that while Roger distances himself from Christian Fundamentalism, underneath his liberated self lies Fundamentalist beliefs. He sees himself as an “enlightened” Christian, yet it is likely that his core theological beliefs are not much different from those who proudly wear the Fundamentalist label.
Roger later sent me another email. Here’s what he had to say:
I wanted to reach out again and hope you didn’t take offense at the last message I sent. I read it again after I sent it and realized I probably came across as antagonistic and rude. Tone is absent in email. I was just laying out my general thoughts on fundamentalism / atheism, nothing personal about you or your story. Please forgive me if that was offensive to you and if so, please just disregard the message. I don’t mean you any disrespect or unkindness. I wish you the best on your journey.
warmly, Roger
Take offense? Of course not. Roger is just another self-righteous, arrogant Christian asshole. I have received thousands of emails and comments from the Rogers of this world. I am of the opinion that people tend to say what they mean the first time. Roger meant for his email to be personal, and I took it as such. It is too late for me to “disregard” his message.
I wish Christians would “think” before emailing me. I wish they would ask themselves what they hope to accomplish by contacting me. I am NOT a prospect for Heaven. There’s nothing Roger could possibly say that I haven’t read/heard before or said in one of the 4,000+ sermons I preached. Wouldn’t it be better to refrain from hitting “send”? Yet, most of the Rogers of the world can’t seem to help themselves. Whatever their motivations, they are driven to set me straight, put in a word for Jesus, or evangelize.
Roger closed his last email with “warmly”. Yep. His email made me feel warm all over. As in wearing dark blue khakis and pissing your pants.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 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.
It has been brought to my attention that the Defiance City Schools is blocking student access to this site. Several of my grandchildren attend Defiance schools. On the one hand, I find this fact hilarious. However, this site is being blocked as a porn site — which it most certainly is not. Either their filtering algorithm is wrong, or someone at the school has blacklisted this site. It is possible, I suppose, that the Black Collar Crime series is triggering a block, but why not block just those pages instead of the whole site? I am the only public atheist in this area, so I do, at times, wonder if I am being deliberately censored for my lack of belief. I recently tried to join the Current Events in Defiance, Ohio Facebook group. My request was rejected, and a message asking why went unanswered. Again, I wonder, why? The same goes for email letters to the editor of the Defiance Crescent-News disappearing or anniversary announcements (twice) not making it in the paper. I get it. I am an odd duck, a black swan in the midst of a bevy of white swans. However, I am also a loving, kind, decent, thoughtful human being. Regardless of my religious and political beliefs, I do what I can to be a good father, husband, and grandfather. When my children or grandchildren hear my name mentioned at Northwest Community StateCollege, at their public schools, or at work, I want them to be proud to be related to me — even if they disagree with my beliefs. (My children have been accosted at college and their places of employment by people demanding they defend something I have written. Small town, country life. I tell them that it is okay to say they don’t know me, but so far, my children have not done so. They must be hoping for a big inheritance after I die.) 🙂
I called my oldest son about Defiance City Schools’ block. I told him, “I hope your kids know Grandpa doesn’t run a porn site!” He laughed and said, “They do.” I don’t care what others think about me (okay, maybe I do a little bit), but I do want my children and grandchildren to think well of me. It matters. Someday, I will be ashes floating on the water of Lake Michigan, sinking into the deep to be seen no more. This blog will remain my testimony to the world (as long as Polly keeps paying the hosting fees). As my grandchildren get older, they will naturally be curious about their grandfather’s writing. As has been the case for my older grandchildren, my younger grandchildren will one day do a web search on my name and discover this site. Years ago, one of my granddaughters told me, “Hey Grandpa, I found your blog today!” That’s all she said, but she had THAT look on her face; you know the one that says, “I know your secrets.” 🙂 And that’s okay. I don’t talk politics or religion with my grandchildren unless they ask me a question or join a discussion I’m having with one of their parents. I am content to let curiosity kill the proverbial cat.
I emailed Aaron Eckhart, the technology coordinator for Defiance City Schools, the link for this post. I will update this article if and when I hear from him.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 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, I saw my primary care doctor for a two-month check-up. I have been seeing the same doctor for twenty-five. We’ve become friends, and my appointments are often just as much catching up as they are treating me. My doctor is an Evangelical Christian. While I am sure he has noticed that I don’t talk about God/Jesus/Church anymore, we have never had any sort of discussion about my current beliefs and way of life. We are Facebook friends, so he’s read that I self-describe as an atheist.
For this visit: scripts were written/called in, CT scan scheduled, blood tests ordered, bitching about how bad the Browns/Bengals are, time to go home. The nurse — also an Evangelical — came into the room with several reams of paper (or so it seems) detailing everything we talked about during my visit. My doctor said to his nurse, Bruce, is a retired pastor. Before I could say a word, the nurse said, Retired pastor? How does THAT happen? Again, before I could say anything, my doctor said, He’s a retired pastor. (This nurse was a fill-in. I have not seen her since.)
I outwardly smiled, and much like Trump changing the discussion from “pussy-grabbing” to Bill Clinton’s dalliances, I said, how many games do you think the Browns will win? My doctor shook his head and laughed, knowing that his Browns suck (and my Bengals weren’t much better).
For whatever reason, when it comes to my medical treatment, I wall myself off from my atheist and humanist beliefs. I don’t disown them, I just don’t talk about them. I do, from time to time, act like a devout, proselytizing Jehovah’s Witness, leaving copies of the Freedom From Religion Foundation or Americans United For Separation of Church and State newsletters in the waiting room. Even with this low-key act of godlessness, I make sure my name and address are blacked out before placing the newsletters among waiting room reading materials.
What did the nurse mean when she said, Retired Pastor? how does THAT happen? Evangelical thinking on this subject goes something like this:
God calls men to be pastors.
The work of the ministry is far above any other job. In fact, it is not a job, it’s a calling.
This calling is irrevocable. For the gifts and calling of God are without repentance. (Romans 11:29)
Pastors should die in the pulpit while preaching the gospel. Going to Heaven with my boots on, old-time preachers used to say.
Thus, being a retired pastor does not compute. God saved and called me, so I should still be preaching. But wait a minute. I am no longer a Christian. I don’t believe in the existence of the God I at one time worshiped and served. My salvation and calling were the results of social conditioning, the consequence of spending fifty years in the Evangelical church. At age five I told my mother that I wanted to be a preacher someday. At age fifteen, I put my faith and trust in Jesus Christ. Two weeks later, I went before the church and told them I believed God was calling me to be a preacher. The congregation praised God for his selection of the redheaded Gerencser boy, and a week later I preached my first sermon. Thirty-three years later I preached my last sermon.
Someday, my obituary will be published in the Bryan Times and Defiance Crescent-News. On that day, my doctor will know the “truth” about my life and loss of faith. Until then, I am content to talk about football, baseball, or family, leaving my godlessness for another day. While I don’t think the fact of my atheism would affect my medical care, I prefer not to complicate my professional relationship and friendship with my doctor. If I Iive longer than expected — which is increasingly doubtful — and my doctor retires before I die, perhaps then we will talk about my journey from Evangelicalism to atheism. Or maybe he’ll stumble upon my blog or read one of the articles I have written for other blogs. I don’t fear him knowing. I just know there’s not enough time in a fifteen-minute office visit for me to explain why I am no longer a Christian.
Do you have certain people you haven’t shared your deconversion with? Why do you keep this to yourself? Please share your thoughts in the comment section.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 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, STILL, A Christian!!! (April 2021)
Evidently, because I use the word “God” in my writing, this is proof that I am r-e-a-l-l-y some sort of secret Christian. Years ago, an Evangelical man said something similar, suggesting that because I capitalize the word God, that means I really, really, really, deep down in the depths of my nonexistent soul, believe in God. Unable to wrap their minds around my story, some Evangelicals think that I am still a Christian; that I will yet return to the fold, all glory and praise to Jesus!
Several years ago, a piss-ant Evangelical named Tom attempted on Facebook to help me see the error of my way. I banned him, but he took to emailing me his “thoughts” about my life and my current standing before the Big Kahuna. Here’s the latest:
my friend let me leave you with some things to think about.
especially with your heath issues. I know that you hate my guts and will mock this email to the other lost souls to whom you are advocating atheism/anti-theism.
I have studied your blog.
and you say that no “card carrying atheist you know has ever became a Christian”
well listen to yourself and read your posts.
you are not an atheist.
I have talked to very few people that label themselves that who are “ATHEISTS”
you even admitted to being an agnostic.
and used phrases like “my divorce from God”
you know the truth because you preached it for 25 plus years.
but did you ever REALLY Believe it?
NOTE: I’m not saying you were never saved.
but asking. did you truly trust Jesus Christ for forgiveness of sin and eternal salvation?
….
Mr Bruce,
Jesus loves you he died for you and wants you to place your faith in him or come back to him.
truly acknowledge your sin problem
Be willing to turn from it and trust Jesus Christ sincerely with all your heart.
I hope you have a blessed day.
T Baker
Here’s my take on his email:
Tom, we are not friends.
Tom, I don’t hate you. I don’t know you, so I can’t hate you. And I certainly haven’t seen your guts, so I definitely don’t hate them.
Tom, nice, subtle threat of Hell — using my health problems as a tool to get me to see the light.
Tom, if you have really studied my blog, you wouldn’t have written this email.
Tom, you are clueless about my motivations for writing and the purpose of this blog.
Tom, I am an atheist. I actually do have an atheist card somewhere. I am a member in good standing of American Atheists, the American Humanist Association, and the Freedom From Religion Foundation. You need, for some reason, to believe that I am not what I claim I am. Why is that? What is so threatening about my story that you will go to great lengths to deny what can clearly be seen: Bruce Gerencser, who was once a devoted follower of Jesus, and now he is not?
Tom, most atheists are agnostics. You need to do some study on atheism and agnosticism. You know, read a fucking book. Your ignorance is showing.
Tom, the phrase “divorced from God” is a rhetorical tool. I intellectually, psychologically, and emotionally divorced myself from God.
Tom, are you saved? Sure you are, right? And so was I. I spent fifty years in the Christian church. I was saved (the last time) at the age of fifteen. I preached the gospel for over thirty years, including pastoring Evangelical churches for twenty-five years. I was in every way a true-blue, committed, filled-with-the-Holy-Ghost Christian. That you can’t wrap your mind around this is YOUR problem, not mine.
Tom, I hope you know that hundreds and hundreds of your fellow Christians have used the same tactics as you have as they attempted to win me back to Jesus — all to no avail. By all means, keep trying. I am always in need of new material for this blog.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 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.
Christians will tell you that the good works they do are all because of Jesus. Several years ago, an Evangelical woman named Pam left several comments detailing her battles with perfectionism. It was only when she learned to let go and let God that she could find victory over her perfectionist tendencies. According to Pam, the flesh is the problem, and the only way Christians can live fulfilled, happy lives is to die to self and allow Jesus to have absolute control. It was Jesus himself who said to those who would be his disciples, let a man deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. It was the apostle Paul who said that without Christ, he could do nothing. Paul reminded Christians that they must deny the flesh and give themselves over, without reservation, to Jesus. In First John, Christians are reminded that if they love the world and the things in the world, then the love of the father is not in them. In fact, the writer of First John tells Christians that if they sin, they are children of the devil.
Now, everyone knows Christians sin. It’s obvious, right? We know that Christians live lives that are, for the most part, indistinguishable from the unwashed, uncircumcised Philistines of the world. How, then, do Christians square what the Bible says about how they should live their lives with how they actually live?
Christians believe that humans are either bipartite or tripartite beings — body and soul or body, soul, and spirit. This dualistic understanding of human nature allows Christians to rationalize and reconcile conflicting teachings in the Bible about human nature and God’s demands. It’s the body that sins. It’s the flesh that Satan can take control of, resulting in Christians committing all sorts of sinful acts. The Bible teaches that Christians are to walk in the spirit and not the flesh. Over and over, the Bible reinforces the belief that Christians, indwelt by the Holy Spirit, are dualistic creatures that will spend their lives on earth in constant battle with competing desires, needs, and influences.
For 2,000 years, Christians have been practicing some sort of self-flagellation meant to crucify the flesh, rendering them dead to sin and alive to Christ. Over the years, I heard countless illustrations (and gave many myself) about the battle between the spirit and the flesh. I remember one pastor saying that this battle is like having two dogs — spirit dog and flesh dog. The strength of these dogs is determined by which dog we feed. If Christians want to live victoriously, then they must feed the spirit dog. Feeding the flesh dog leads to lives of sin, carnality, and the chastisement of God. This cosmic battle between good and evil can be illustrated in many different ways. What most Christians don’t know is that this dualistic understanding of human nature comes from Gnosticism, a system of belief judged heretical centuries ago. In fact, if you listen carefully to what Christians say, you will quickly conclude that in 2021 Gnosticism is alive and well.
In Romans 7, the apostle Paul talks about this battle:
Wherefore, my brethren, ye also are become dead to the law by the body of Christ; that ye should be married to another, even to him who is raised from the dead, that we should bring forth fruit unto God. For when we were in the flesh, the motions of sins, which were by the law, did work in our members to bring forth fruit unto death. But now we are delivered from the law, that being dead wherein we were held; that we should serve in newness of spirit, and not in the oldness of the letter. What shall we say then? Is the law sin? God forbid. Nay, I had not known sin, but by the law: for I had not known lust, except the law had said, Thou shalt not covet. But sin, taking occasion by the commandment, wrought in me all manner of concupiscence. For without the law sin was dead. For I was alive without the law once: but when the commandment came, sin revived, and I died. And the commandment, which was ordained to life, I found to be unto death. For sin, taking occasion by the commandment, deceived me, and by it slew me. Wherefore the law is holy, and the commandment holy, and just, and good. Was then that which is good made death unto me? God forbid. But sin, that it might appear sin, working death in me by that which is good; that sin by the commandment might become exceeding sinful. For we know that the law is spiritual: but I am carnal, sold under sin. For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I. If then I do that which I would not, I consent unto the law that it is good. Now then it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh,) dwelleth no good thing: for to will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good I find not. For the good that I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. I find then a law, that, when I would do good, evil is present with me. For I delight in the law of God after the inward man: But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin.
From these verses and others, Christians conclude that their flesh (body) is sinful and that the good deeds they do are not their own works, but the works of God who uses them for his own purposes. This is why Christian zealots can ignore the commenting rules for this blog, and post comment after comment filled with Bible verses, sermons, and other acts of Evangelical masturbation. You see, it’s not them saying/writing these words, it is Jesus. They are just conduits through which Jesus speaks to poor deluded atheists and other unbelievers. In many ways, these zombies for Jesus are not much different from Madam Zelda, who channels dead loved ones so she can give messages to those they have left behind. Evangelicals must daily crucify their flesh. The use of the word crucify reminds them to the degree they must be willing to go to be used by Jesus. Jesus was willing to be brutally, viciously beaten, ultimately dying on the cross, so that atonement could be made for human sin. Wanting to be like Jesus, Evangelicals physically and psychologically flagellate themselves, hoping by their acts of self-denial that Jesus will find them worthy and use them for his purpose and glory.
Lost on Evangelicals is the fact that their very acts of self-denial are they themselves doing works. They are the ones dying to self. They are the ones crucifying the flesh. They are the ones taking up their crosses and following Jesus. No matter how far along the Christian experience you want to go, eventually, human action will be found. This is why I have argued that Christianity, at its heart, is not a religion of faith/grace. It’s all about works, and it always has been. If God is the same yesterday, today, and forever, then he cannot and will not change. The Old Testament is clear, God had a prescribed way his chosen people were required to live, under the penalties of judgment, death, and eternal damnation if they did not. In the Gospels, Jesus made it very clear in the Sermon on the Mount that if people wanted to be his disciples, they would have to live a certain way. Paul continued this works-based thinking in his epistles when he contrasts the works of the flesh and the works of the spirit. James says that faith without works is dead, and the writer of First John spends five chapters listing the works that must be in the lives of those who say they are followers of Jesus. Even salvation is a work. For sinners to be saved, they must accept the gospel message, repent of their sins, and believe in Jesus Christ. They must put their faith and trust in Jesus alone. No one becomes a Christian by sitting at home and just waiting for it to happen. The new birth — being born from above — requires an act of volition. Christians will go to great lengths to explain why these acts of the will are really God’s doing, but the fact remains that it is unbelievers who are making conscious choices to either accept or reject Jesus Christ.
Dualism, of course, is a theological construct that is used to explain the contradictory teachings of the Bible. There is no possible way to reconcile Jesus, Paul, James, and John without resorting to some sort of dualistic magic. Those of us who are atheists have an entirely different view of human nature. We recognize that our lives are affected by biology, environment, personal choices and decisions, and being at the wrong/right place at the wrong/place right time (to name a few). We also know that luck plays a big part in who and what we are.
My life is an admixture of good and bad works and good and bad decisions, with a healthy dose of neither good or bad thrown in. As a Christian, I ascribed the good that I did to Jesus and the bad that I did to Satan and/or the flesh. As an atheist, I accept full responsibility for what I do, and when I do good things, I rightly accept the praise and approbation of others. After all, it is I, not God or some other person, who did the good work. While I may deflect the praise of others through humility, realizing that others often play a big part in the good things that I do, I now know that is okay for me to say (and for others to say) good job, Bruce. I also know that when I do bad things, I need to look no further than me, myself, and I. While my wonderful, loving, awesome, super, fabulous, beautiful wife of 42 years can irritate the hell out of me, if I respond to her in anger or impatience, I have no one to blame but myself. I am in control of my actions, words, and, to some degree, my destiny. As I am wont to do, I can look back over my life and see how the various decisions I have made have affected where I am today. While I know the reasons for my health problems are many, some of which are beyond my control, I also know that the choices my parents made and choices that I have made play a part. Who among us hasn’t said, I wish I had done __________. I believe it was George Foreman that said that his obituary will one day read that he died of one too many cheeseburgers. Foreman understood the connection between choices and consequences. Our lives are complex mixtures of many factors, all of which are rooted in naturalism and materialism. I need not look far to find the reasons and answers for who and what I have become. Voltaire was right when he said, “Each player must accept the cards life deals him or her. But once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide how to play the cards in order to win the game.” Believing that a deity is the master of my universe and the controller of my rudder complicates things, so cutting him out of my life allows me not only to make my own decisions but also accept responsibility for what good or bad comes as a result of the choices that I’ve made. While I still have moments when I wish there were someone to blame — say, the devil or the flesh — I know that when I look in the mirror, I see the one person who is responsible for how Bruce Gerencser lives his life. To quote an oft-used line, the buck stops here.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 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.
Just curious on your thoughts about humans having, wanting and giving of love. Curious on where you believe it comes from.
Also, in your opinion, if there is no God or creator, who makes the morality rules?
Some believe that mankind is ultimately the moral law maker and or compass, in your opinion can anyone change that moral level as they see fit?
If the moral conduct is changed by the masses to whatever works for you, would that be counterproductive to society? Or do you feel mankind is evolving into learning and understanding what is helpful or not helpful to the whole? I hope all this makes sense. If not I will try to clarify.
I appreciate your time to respond.
Generally, I don’t engage is discussions about morality. Been there, done that, so to speak. I have been attacked by Christians and atheists alike over my views on morality. I have been accused of all sorts of “sins.” So, I am not inclined to write about morality, but today I have decided to do so, knowing that new readers have not read my views on this subject.
I am an atheist, so there is no God, no creator, no divine lawgiver. The laws and commands found in the Bible are of human origin. No Christian apologist has provided any evidence to suggest otherwise. Saying, THE BIBLE SAYS, is not evidence; it is an assumption rooted in presuppositionalism. That said, the Bible can be a helpful voice in discussions about morality, showing us how ancient societies viewed morality.
All morality is inherently subjective. There’s no such thing as absolute morality. Even in the Bible, we see morality, including God’s, changing over time. The idea that the Ten Commandments (which version?) or the Bible (which translation?) are an objective moral standard for all people for all time is absurd. History reveals ever-changing moral beliefs and standards. I came of age in the Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) church. IFB churches and pastors believe in absolute morals, yet most IFB churches have moral standards today different from those they had in the 1960s and 1970s. This is especially so for Evangelicals. Yet, these moralizers, with great gusto, proclaim that they are keepers, defenders, and proclaimers of God’s moral standard.
Humans are social creatures, and as such, we need rules by which to govern ourselves. If morality is subjective, who decides what rules to use to govern our societies? We do. There’s no higher standard than “we the people.” If happiness and well-being are our goals — and they are (or should be) — then our morals should reflect those goals. Whether these morals can then be considered objective is a matter of debate, a debate, by the way, that I have no interest in. I know that humans generally agree that murder, rape, child sexual abuse, kidnapping, etc., are morally wrong. We don’t need a deity (or a church/preacher/religious text) to tell us these things are wrong. Why we know these things are wrong is an interesting discussion, one that has provoked much debate. Personally, I am convinced that our moral beliefs are shaped by biology, environment, culture, parental training, education, economic status, religion, and other factors. As you can see, it is far easier to appeal to God or the Bible — no thinking required. However, as stated above, I am an atheist (and a humanist and a socialist). God and the Bible have no place in my thinking.
Since morality is inherently subjective, our morals can and do change over time. And this is what troubles Fundamentalists. They live in a bubble where change is banned (even though a careful analysis shows transformational change taking place in Evangelical churches). Fundamentalists pine for the 1950s, a time when gays were deep in the closet, women were barefoot and pregnant, and Blacks knew their place. The foundation of the culture war is a yearning for what is perceived (falsely) as better times.
Progress demands we continue to examine our moral beliefs and adjust them accordingly. As long as Fundamentalists continue to clamor for, and achieve, a return to “old-fashioned” moral beliefs, progress is impeded. The current spate of anti-transgender, anti-abortion, and pro-creationism laws seems laughable to skeptics and rationalists, but state after state are passing these laws, moving us closer to the “good-old-days.” We must never, ever forget that theocracy (a system of morality) is their goal.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 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.
