Recently, I received the following email from a man named Henry:
Bruce, why do you spend so much time worrying about Evilgelicals? They’re living rent free in your head. Don’t waste your time with these losers. Move on. You know it’s all bullshit.
I will assume in my response that Henry is either an atheist or a non-Evangelical Christian. Many first-time or casual readers are unaware of my motivations for writing and why I write the way I do.
First, I am a former Evangelical Christian. I spent fifty years in Evangelicalism, and twenty-five years as a pastor. Evangelicalism is what I know, especially the Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) church movement and the Sovereign Grace/Reformed Baptist movements. I am a go-to source for background and comment on these movements. Reporters, news agencies, and authors will contact me from time to time, asking for comments or background information. One reporter who was working on a story about an IFB pastor and his church repeatedly contacted me to get help defining and understanding “IFB lingo” he found unfamiliar or confusing. I am always glad to help. Over the years, I have appeared on numerous podcasts and news interviews, gladly lending my expertise to their programs. Shouldn’t I want to lend my voice to authors, podcasters, and reporters who are doing yeoman’s work in exposing the ugly, dangerous, harmful underbelly of Evangelical Christianity?
Second, I fundamentally believe that Evangelicalism in general and the IFB church movement in particular causes psychological and, at times, physical harm. Evangelicalism is inherently Fundamentalist, and I oppose fundamentalism in all its forms. Fundamentalism is found in every religion and every school of thought. Thus, there are fundamentalist atheists, fundamentalist medical professionals, fundamentalist economists, etc. Fundamentalism is a terminal disease that must be eradicated from our thinking and way of life.
Having experienced firsthand the harm such toxic, dangerous religious sects cause, I am motivated to make sure others are not similarly harmed. As a former insider, a lifelong on-fire, dedicated follower of Jesus, I have a unique perspective to offer readers. My goal is not to convert people to atheism, but to provide readers with information that will help them with their doubts and questions about Christianity. That scores of people have left Evangelicalism due to something I wrote or some other interaction I had with them is a byproduct, not a feature, of my work. Sure, as an atheist and a humanist, I think my worldview and way of life are superior to Christianity. That said, I realize that most people are and will remain religious to some degree or the other. I have done my job if I can help people move away from Evangelicalism to kinder, gentler forms of Christianity. The fact of their deconverting is a bonus.
Third, I don’t only write about Evangelicalism. Sure, that’s my focus, and it always has been. That said, I also write about sports, politics, medicine, and anything else that tickles my fancy. The Black Collar Crime Series has played a part in keeping the spotlight focused on sex crimes committed by Evangelical pastors, evangelists, missionaries, deacons, worship leaders, Sunday school teachers, nursery workers, youth pastors, church bus drivers, summer camp employees, group homes, private school teachers, and college professors. These stories generally fade from public view, but the Black Collar Crime Series keeps the light shining on the despicable acts of so-called men of God and other church leaders.
Fourth, I enjoy writing about religion in general, and Evangelicalism and the IFB church movement in particular. I know what I know, so why not use my knowledge and understanding to help others? I also have a story to tell, so what better place to share it than this blog? While I spend significant time critiquing Evangelicalism, I have never lost sight of my desire to share my story with others. Hopefully, my story will one day be turned into a book. I spent five decades in the Evangelical church, over half that time closely aligned with the IFB church movement. According to many readers, my story is not only entertaining, it is helpful — the voice of an insider, someone who understands the inner workings of Fundamentalist sects and churches.
Henry and I have different views of Evangelicalism. He calls them “Evilgelicals,” a common term used by atheists. For the most part, I do not think Evangelicals are evil. Evil exists among every demographic, but it is unkind, uncharitable, and uninformed to call all Evangelicals evil. Most Evangelicals were raised in the church. It is all they have ever known. This is especially true of the IFB church movement and other sects on the extreme right of the Evangelical tent. Outsiders don’t understand how deeply indoctrination and conditioning affect people; and that it is difficult to break free from cult-like beliefs and practices. I am compassionate and sympathetic towards Christian Fundamentalists, knowing how difficult it is to break free from authoritarian, patriarchal literalism. Screaming at such people, calling them names, or mocking them accomplishes nothing. What better way to reach them than by sharing my “testimony” or politely (but pointedly) challenging their sincerely held beliefs? This may not be everyone’s proverbial cup of tea, but it is mine.
Fifth, I don’t “worry” about Evangelicals. I am indifferent towards religion, in general. Each to their own. I do, however, worry about how certain Evangelical beliefs and practices affect my life and that of my family — especially my grandchildren. Evangelicals are largely Republicans or Libertarians, and almost eighty percent of voting white Evangelicals voted for Donald Trump in the 2016 and 2020 presidential elections. Evangelicalism has moved from being a pietistic sect to a political party. THIS worries me. My partner, Polly, and I attended two graduations this week, one for our two preschool grandsons and the other for soon-to-head-to Ohio State University granddaughter number three. While I generally found the graduations boring, I did spend time pondering about what the future might hold for my grandchildren. What awaits on the horizon for them? I worry about how continued Evangelical encroachment into American politics will affect their livelihoods and way of living. None of our sixteen grandchildren is an Evangelical Christian. I worry about them navigating a world where millions of Americans want to force them to conform to certain religious beliefs and practices. I want them to be free to be who and what they are without being condemned for being different. Currently, Lifewise Academy — an Evangelical parachurch organization — has established release time indoctrination programs in 170 Ohio public schools — including four school districts my grandchildren attend. Most of my grandchildren do not attend Lifewise’s classes, but they are often pressured to do so, feeling “bothered” when most of their classmates leave for their Lifewise class while they sit in study hall. I have been working with others to run Lifewise out of schools. Why? Lifewise indoctrinates impressionable children, teaching them all sorts of nonsense, including young earth creationism. Worse, children are directly targeted for evangelization. Internal documents reveal that teachers are to tell students divorce is a sin and that when confronted with a choice between obeying their parents and God (as defined by Lifewise), students should ALWAYS choose to obey God. (“Obeying God” actually means obeying certain Bible verses as interpreted by Lifewise teachers.) Lifewise also promotes Evangelical culture war values, including anti-abortion, anti-sex before marriage, anti-LGBTQ beliefs. What kind of grandfather would I be if I turned a blind eye to these things? I cannot and will not do so.
Sixth, Henry wrongly thinks I spend an inordinate amount of time on Evangelicals. According to him, they live rent-free in my head. This, of course, is laughable. As Carolyn, my editor, will tell you, I typically write posts for this site three or four days a week — rarely on Fridays or weekends. I have pervasive, painful health problems that limit what I can do on any given day. I suffer from fibromyalgia, osteoarthritis, gastroparesis, and exocrine pancreatic insufficiency. I also have degenerative spine disease. From my neck to my tailbone, I have numerous herniated discs and other structural damage. Despite taking narcotic pain medications and cannabis, I am still left with excruciating pain that never, ever goes away. Over the past two months, the pain in my lower back has gotten so bad that I am unable to walk more than short distances. I am forced to either walk with a cane, use a walker, or a wheelchair. (I fear I will soon be wheelchair-bound full-time. I have an MRI scheduled next week on my lower back. I suspect that the scan will show widespread disc damage. If you want to know how bad things are for me, shoot Polly a message and she will tell you.) These physical realities mean that I typically have three to six hours most days to write and take care of household business. After that, I am done. And I mean d-o-n-e. The rest of my night is spent reading, watching TV, listening to podcasts, or fitfully resting. If I could do more I would, but I have resigned myself to the fact that this is my new normal in life. All the positive thoughts in the world won’t change reality for me. It is what it is.
If my time is focused on anything, it is making it through the day. Writing is a distraction, a pain reducer. When I am focused on writing, my pain lessens. Carolyn can tell you about times when I got in a groove and wrote for hours, forgetting to take my pain meds. I felt okay while writing, but boy, oh boy, when I was done, Mr. Pain said to me, “Hey Buddy, remember me?” Of course, the cure was for me to immediately take my medication in copious amounts, but this is also a reminder that writing does help me physically.
Seventh, I have no intention of “moving on.” I enjoy writing. I enjoy interacting with my friends and acquaintances I have met through this blog. Some of you have been reading my writing for seventeen years. Amazing! And I am grateful for your continued support. I genuinely love and enjoy what I do, so why would I want to move on? My therapist believes that my regular writing schedule helps me emotionally and physically; and that I derive meaning and purpose through my writing and interaction with readers. I have been writing since my twenties. I see no reason to stop now. Subject matter may (and will) change with time, but I find the process enjoyable and fulfilling.
Eighth, I don’t think Evangelicals are “losers.” I was one of them. I understand how and why they believe what they do. I understand how indoctrination and conditioning affect their ability to see the world as it is. Should I just call Evangelicals names and label all of them “losers?” What is accomplished by doing so? I am surrounded locally by Evangelical Christians. What kind of life would I have if I considered my neighbors and local business owners “losers?” I can differ with their beliefs while still treating them with respect. I can do this because I am a decent, thoughtful, kind human being. I want to be treated in the same way I treat others. I make a distinction between garden variety Evangelicals I come in contact with and the apologists and zealots who frequent my blog. Many atheists wrongly assume that people such as Revival Fires, John, Charles, Dr. David Tee, and others are normative; that they represent Evangelicals as a whole. They don’t. While my Evangelical neighbors have beliefs I strongly object to, I don’t oppose them as people. It’s just not in me to do so. When I go to a high school basketball or football game, I want to enjoy the games. That includes interacting with the people sitting near me — many of whom are practicing Christians. I am well-known locally. Most people know I am an atheist and a socialist. They oppose my beliefs, as I do theirs. Some locals read my blog, and thousands of them read my letters to the editor of the newspaper. Yet, we are still able to enjoy one another’s company and have friendly discussions. One way for me to do that is to NOT have discussions with people about religion and politics unless asked. My life is so much more than atheism, humanism, and socialism, so there’s plenty to talk about without getting into heated debates and arguments.
Finally, Henry tells me, “You know it is all bullshit.” I presume he is talking about Evangelicalism or religion in general. The fact that I think all religions are social constructs created by humans to explain the world and provide social connection and cohesion, doesn’t change the fact that what Henry calls “bullshit” materially affects not only me, but my family, friends, and neighbors. Moving on means surrendering the battlefield, and I am unwilling to do so. I still believe a better tomorrow is possible, and for that to happen, bad ideas, beliefs, and worldviews must be challenged. This blog is my feeble attempt to make the world a better place to live.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
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