Several days ago, I received the following email from an Evangelical man:
So where did it all come from. The known universe before the bang?
Over the past seventeen years, I have received scores of emails from Evangelicals posing this very question or something similar. Evangelicals think that this question is some sort of “gotcha” question atheists can’t answer; that by being unable to answer this question, atheists show the bankruptcy of atheism.
I am going to surprise the man who wrote this email by answering his question: I DON’T KNOW! No one knows where “it” came from; where the universe came from before the Big Bang. Atheists can’t answer this question, but neither can Christians. Saying GOD DID IT! is a faith claim, as is quoting verses from Genesis 1-3. To quote the great intellectual and scholar Ken “Hambo” Ham, “Were you there?” Ham loves to use this line of illogic when challenging evolutionists and other scientists. Since these learned men and women didn’t observe firsthand the beginning of the universe (and what became before the Big Bang), they can’t possibly “know” what happened. However, what’s good for the proverbial goose is good for the gander. When Evangelicals say GOD DID IT! it is fair for scientists to ask, “Were you there?” If not, then Christians cannot possibly know whether the Christian God created the universe or exists outside of space and time. These are faith claims, not science.
Of course, Ham and other creationists resort to special pleading to defend and justify their beliefs. The Bible is different from any other book, Evangelicals say. Written by God through human instrumentality, the Bible is inspired, inerrant, and infallible. Thus, we can KNOW who created the universe and when and how he did it by reading the Bible! The problem with this argument is that there is no evidence for the claim that the Christian God wrote the Bible. There’s a plethora of evidence, however, that suggests the Bible is the work of fallible men. Believing the Bible was written by God and is somehow, in some way, a one-of-a-kind divine text requires faith. Deep down, creationists know this, and that’s why Answers in Genesis, Creation Research Society, Institute for Creation Research, and dozens of other groups, spend countless hours trying to make science “fit” the creationist narrative. Faith is not enough for these zealots. They desperately want respectability and are willing to lie, distort scientific facts, and misrepresent science to get it. Yet, despite all their “scientific” work, creationism remains a matter of faith, not science.
Creationists can no more answer the aforementioned questions than atheists can. The difference between Evangelicals and evolutionists (a derogatory term often used by Evangelicals as a label for science in general) however, is that scientists continue to work towards answering the question of how the universe began and explaining what existed before the Big Bang. Science may never satisfactorily and completely answer these questions, and I am fine with that. Not every question — presently — is answerable. Evangelicals, armed with arrogance and certainty, think the Bible reveals to them everything they need to know about life. “The Bible says” becomes the answer to countless complex, difficult science questions. The underlying issue is that Evangelicals need to be right; to have “Biblical” answers for every question. Evangelicals have become the insufferable man at a party who dominates the discussion and has answers for every question. Or at least he thinks he does, anyway.
Let me conclude this post with this: atheism and evolution are not the same, any more than atheism and liberalism are the same. Atheism is defined this way: disbelief or lack of belief in the existence of God or gods. While it is certainly true that many atheists are evolutionists and political liberals, that cannot be said of all atheists. Atheism is a singular statement about the existence of deities. From there, atheists go in all sorts of ways.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Several years ago, my friend Andrew Hackman said, “Once you see behind the god curtain, there is no point in offering me a “better” god.” Andrew’s words got me thinking about the 1939 movie The Wizard of Oz; of how Dorothy and her compatriots traveled to the Emerald City to see the great Wizard of Oz. Rumor had it that the Wizard of Oz had great powers, and who better to give the Scarecrow a brain, the Tin Woodman a heart, the Cowardly Lion courage, and magically return Dorothy to Kansas? The Wizard agreed to grant their wishes if they brought him the broomstick belonging to the Wicked Witch of the West.
Upon achieving the quest, Dorothy and her friends return to the Emerald City, thinking the Wizard will happily and quickly grant their wishes. Instead, he stalls, hoping they will give up and go away. As they persisted, Toto, the dog, pulled back a curtain to reveal that the great Wizard of Oz was actually a “middle-aged man operating machinery and speaking into a microphone.”
So it is for those of us who have pulled back the God curtain, only to find out that “God” was a fabrication of the human mind; that the God we loved, worshiped, and adored was nothing more than a feeble, frail man using magical words and religious texts to convince us of his existence. The God behind the curtain used all sorts of tricks to get us to accept that he was real; that he was the supreme ruler of the universe; that he was the King of Kings, Lord of Lords, the one true God. But once we saw the human behind the curtain, it was impossible for us to unsee. We had three choices: pretend that we didn’t see what was behind the curtain, ignore what we had seen, or admit that the deity we had devoted our lives to was no God at all. For those of us who are atheists and agnostics, we chose number three — there is no God.
It’s been seventeen years now since I pulled back the God curtain and found that the Christian deity (and all other extant Gods) was a fake, a fraud, a human invention. Since that time, countless Evangelicals, Catholics, and Muslims have attempted to evangelize me, saying that I had been worshiping a false God, and that if I would just believe in and follow their peculiar version of God, all my wishes would be granted.
Their remonstrations have fallen on deaf ears. Why? Let me quote my buddy Andrew again, “Once you see behind the god curtain, there is no point in offering me a “better” god.” You see, once you know the truth, there’s no going back. Once you realize the psychological, sociological, and geographical nature of belief in God, the idea that God is “real” falls flat on its face. Christian zealots continue to try to convince me that their flavor of Christianity is “truth,” but I know better. You see, I have pulled back the curtain, and I know that God looks and acts a lot like Bruce Gerencser and eight billion other human beings.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
JESUS offers the only way to Heaven. It is not difficult but some are so arrogant or get off on their unbelief. The problem with that is this life ends in a blip. Life is just a vapor. Choose Heaven…over hell. Are these people with these incredible experiences all making it up? All of them? Be serious.
We shall all die and be totally forgotten…except by GOD thankfully.
Mike asks, “Are these people with these incredible [conversion] experiences all making it up?” Well, certainly some of them are making it up. Evangelical churches are filled with people who are just going through the motions; people who don’t really believe. I do not doubt that on Sundays, Evangelical churches even have atheists in their midst; unbelievers who go through the motions for the sake of their marriages or families. Some churches even have atheist pastors — men who don’t believe, yet preach the “gospel” Sunday after Sunday. (Check out the Clergy Project for more information about help for unbelieving clergy.)
Now, Mike is likely a True Christian®. He probably knows countless others who are members of the True Christian® Club — Established 33 A.D. by Jesus Christ. Mike incredulously asks me to be serious. Do I really think people with incredible conversion experiences are all making it up? No, I don’t think True Christians® are lying when they testify to what Jesus has done in their lives. I almost always take Christian professions of faith at face value. That said, since the Evangelical God has never been seen, and neither has the Holy Spirit, is it not fair for skeptics and atheists to question whether such beings exist and whether said conversion experiences can, in fact, be proved?
The very nature of faith requires believing without seeing (Hebrews 11). While Jesus, in fact, walked the streets of Galilee almost 2,000 years ago, no one has seen him since the first century. There’s no credible evidence for claims that Jesus physically resurrected from the dead and ascended to Heaven. Jesus, supposedly, now sits at the Father’s right hand, awaiting the day and time when Gabriel will blow his trumpet, signifying the second coming of Jesus, the King of kings and Lord of lords, to earth. Millions of Evangelicals gather on Sundays to praise and worship the resurrected Christ and the wonders of his saving grace. Evangelical worship is rooted not in fact, but faith; again, believing what cannot be seen. No one has ever seen God, the Holy Spirit, Jesus, angels, Satan, or demons, yet Evangelicals believe these entities exist and are intimately involved in their day-to-day lives. Surely, the fact that they “believe” these things to be true makes them so, right? No! No! No!
Does the fact millions of people believe something to be true, make it so? Of course not. Humans can and do believe things that are patently false or are rooted in myth. Just because millions and millions of Evangelicals believe Jesus is the virgin-born, miracle-working, crucified, and resurrected Son of God, doesn’t mean their beliefs are, in fact, true. When Evangelicals are pressed for evidence for their theological claims, they ultimately appeal to the Bible and faith. Either you believe or you don’t. Evangelicals, for a variety of reasons, suspend rationality and choose, instead, to put their faith and trust in the Christian narrative. Atheists and other unbelievers refuse to set reason aside and faith-it. Granted, Evangelicals have all sorts of apologetical arguments they use to refute atheist claims, but the differences between the two parties really come down to one thing — faith. Evangelicals have it and atheists don’t.
Mike would have us believe that the mere fact that countless Evangelicals believe in Jesus and have had conversion experiences, alone, is “proof” of their truthiness. Of course, this notion is easily disproven. Evangelism is, by nature, exclusionary. Only those who have repented of their sins and put their faith and trust in Jesus Christ are blood-washed members of the True Christian® Club. All other religions are false. Wait a minute, if the sheer number of adherents determines whether theological claims are true, wouldn’t that mean Islam, with 1.8 billion believers, is true? Couldn’t the same be said for Mormons? Mormonism is quite Evangelical in theology and practice. Almost 15 million people worldwide worship the Mormon version of Jesus Christ. Surely, this means that Mormonism is true too, right?
Let’s go back to the first century for a moment. The Romans ruled most of the known world. God’s chosen people, the Jews, were under the thumb of Rome. A ragtag group of misfits walked the streets of Jerusalem and Galilee, claiming that their leader, Jesus, was some sort of miracle worker — a man sent from God. Yet, when all the Christians gathered in an upper room to await the Day of Pentecost, they numbered 120 people (Acts 1). Think of all the miracles Jesus purportedly worked. Think of the things that happened when he died: the veil in the Jewish Temple was rent in twain, graves opened up and dead people came back to life and walked the streets of Jerusalem, and the sun was darkened. Think of all the miracles Jesus worked after his three-day weekend in the grave. (Please see I Wish Christians Would be Honest About Jesus’ Three Day Weekend.) Yet, come the events recorded in Acts 1, the disciples of Jesus numbered 120. Talk about failure. Why, President Trump would be tweeting about what a failure Jesus and the Apostles were! Using Mike’s logic — just being serious here — it would seem that the gods of Rome were the true Gods. If crowd size determines whether theological claims are true, it’s fair to say that Christianity is false.
Now, I know that Evangelicals have all sorts of apologetical arguments they use to show that Evangelical Christianity is true, and all other religions (and non-religions) are false. Mormons believe this or that, and this proves Mormonism is false, Evangelicals say. Similar arguments are made against Islam, Buddhism, Roman Catholicism, Hinduism, Pastafarianism, Shintoism, Santeria, and cargo religions. Bruce, all these other religions are false! Why? Why is Christianity true and all other religions false? Look at their crazy beliefs, Bruce! Only Christianity is true! Really? Try taking a look at Evangelical Christianity from the outside (using John Loftus’ Outsider Test of Faith). Isn’t the Evangelical narrative just as crazy as that of other religions? I have already disproved the notion that the size of the sect proves its truthiness. Lots of sects have millions and billions of adherents. If penis size alone determines which appendage is the one true cock, what can be said about Trump-sized groups such as Evangelicals — whose numbers are quite small when compared to Roman Catholicism, Hinduism, and Islam?
No, the fact that millions and millions of people profess faith in the Evangelical Jesus proves nothing. Just because individual Christians testify to the miracle-working power of their God, it proves nothing. Sure, religion can and does effect change in people’s lives, but beliefs need not be true for them to be transformative. Humans believe all sorts of things that are false. In science, there is what is called the placebo effect: a beneficial effect produced by a placebo drug or treatment, which cannot be attributed to the properties of the placebo itself, and must therefore be due to the patient’s belief in that treatment. Most humans want meaning, purpose, and happiness in their lives. Is it not possible that religion in general and specifically Evangelicalism produces a placebo effect? Evangelicals “believe” and it works. Evangelicalism doesn’t work for atheists. Why is that? Atheists don’t believe; they don’t have the requisite faith necessary for one to become a Christian.
I hope that this post puts to rest the argument that truth is determined by crowd size. It’s not, and if the Mikes of the world want to prove that Evangelicalism is true, it is time for them to prove it; not with lame presuppositions or Bible verses, but real evidence. Of course, no such evidence is forthcoming, and for this reason, and others, the number of unbelievers continues to grow.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Several years ago, my wife received an email from a college student who worked for her one summer. This girl — an Evangelical Christian — wanted to let Polly know that she was raising $6,000 so she could go to a “secret” country and do illegal missionary work. The girl meant well, I am sure, but her email was a reminder to me of the Jesus Vacations® many Evangelicals take each summer to foreign lands to spread white American Christianity. Scores of Evangelicals take these trips each year, spending millions of dollars as Jesus tourists; convincing themselves that what meager, incidental work they do matters.
Why didn’t the girl’s church pay for her trip? If the goal is winning souls for Christ in a country that forbids such things, why not have the soulwinners or their churches pay for the trip? Instead, trip-takers turn to people they know — family, friends, casual acquaintances, workmates — to cough up the money so they can take an unnecessary Jesus Vacation® to what they believe is the foreign mission field. Polly, of course, did not respond to the email, nor did she forward it to others as the sender requested. In our Christian days, we didn’t support such wastes of energy and money, and as unbelievers, we sure as hell aren’t going to help American Evangelicals harass foreign non-Christians.
Jesus Vacations® are taken primarily by White middle-class Evangelicals. While certainly “some” good is accomplished; say, building housing, digging wells, and improving the welfare of people in poverty-stricken countries, the irony here is that many Evangelicals who minister to material needs while on their Jesus Vacations® won’t do the same in their own country. In their minds, Haitians are worthy of care, but poor Blacks, Whites, and Hispanics in impoverished areas in the deep south? Let them starve. Get a job! Mexicans on the American side of the border are criminals worthy of deportation, abusers of American goodness and largess. Mexicans south of the Rio Grande? Why, now they are a mission field; people worthy of missional attention from rich white Evangelicals.
After these Jesus-loving travelers return from their Jesus Vacations®, they will stand before their fellow congregants one Sunday and give a testimony of all the things they did for Jesus; of all the goodwill they spread to the poor; and, most of all, the number of people who prayed the sinner’s prayer and asked Jesus to save them. Charismatic vacationers will regale their churches with claims of miracles, yet will not provide evidence for their claims. Year after year, Evangelicals take Jesus Vacations®, never considering whether they are doing anything meaningful or whether the money spent for travel and other expenses could have been put to better use.
Jesus Vacations® tend to support the false notion that poor people of color in other countries need affluent white American Christians to help them and deliver them from Satan. Why not, instead, send the money to Christians who live in these countries and let them spend it helping their fellow citizens? Wouldn’t doing so be more cost-effective? Instead of fifty college students coughing up $6,000 each for a Jesus Vacation® — $300,000 — wouldn’t it be far better to send it to people who know their country and communities, and what needs people might have? Bruce, surely you know we can’t trust poor Blacks with White people’s money! They need us – “us” being affluent White Evangelicals — to manage how the monies are spent. USA! USA USA! JESUS! JESUS! JESUS!
Comic by Tom Tapp
Of course, sending the money to the field and forgoing Jesus Vacations® will never happen. You see Jesus Vacations® give the appearance of doing good in Jesus’ name. These trips are feel-good, Hallmark-like experiences. They allow trip-takers to oh-so-humbly brag about how Jesus used them to materially help and evangelize poor people of color. Praise be to Jesus! Look what I, uh, I mean, Jesus, did! The humble-bragging extends to pastors and older congregants too. Look at what WE did for Jesus! Look at how we helped those poor, helpless Haitians (and ignored the poor people who live next door to the church)! As with most things Evangelical churches do, no one will ever question the value of taking Jesus Vacations®. No one will ever ask, WHY do we take these trips every year? Oh no, you don’t: thou shalt not question. Summers are for vacation Bible school (VBS), youth camp, and Jesus Vacations® (and here in Ohio a day trip to either King’s Island or Cedar Point). And so it goes, year after year . . .
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Earlier, I posted an article about the fact that many Evangelicals contend I never was a True Christian®; that I never met the REAL JESUS. Unsurprisingly, I often get similar treatment from hardcore — dare I say, Fundamentalist — atheists. According to these atheists, I am crypto-Christian, posing as an atheist; that deep down I am still a follower of Jesus — or at the very least want to be. In their minds, all religion is bad, and the Abrahamic religions are the worst of the bunch. That I am an accommodationist and believe Jesus was a real, flesh-and-blood historical figure says to them that I haven’t left Christianity behind. That I have good things to say about my Christian past, and I am willing to commend Christians when they do good in Jesus’s name, is more proof to them that under my atheist veneer beats the heart of a man who is having a secret affair with Christianity.
Years ago, I attended an atheist meeting in Fort Wayne, Indiana, that featured theologian and atheist Robert M. Price. I thoroughly enjoyed Price’s lecture. During the Question and Answer period, one man — an outspoken atheist — challenged Price’s respect for certain aspects of Christianity. The man said, Tell me one good thing Christians have done in twenty centuries that couldn’t have been done without religion. This led to a brief back and forth between Price and his accuser. Sadly, nothing Price said made any difference to this man. He was a Fundamentalist, and one of his cardinal doctrines was that all religion was bad. He was settled in his beliefs about Christianity. He and I later got into an email skirmish about the matter. I concluded, then, that I was an atheist, but I wasn’t one of THOSE atheists. I hold to this sentiment today.
Tim O’Neill, an acquaintance of mine, is also often accused of being a crypto-Christian. Tim blogs at the History for Atheists website. If you are not a reader of Tim’s writing, I encourage you to check out his site. Good stuff. Mythicist Richard Carrier says this about fellow atheist O’Neill:
Tim O’Neill is a known liar …. an asscrank …. a hack …. a tinfoil hatter …. stupid …. a crypto-Christian, posing as an atheist …. a pseudo-atheist shill for Christian triumphalism [and] delusionally insane.
Ouch, right?
I have received numerous emails over the years from atheists angered over my friendliness towards Christianity (or my liberal political beliefs). Funny, isn’t it? Evangelicals think I am hostile towards Christianity, and some atheists believe Jesus is my secret fuck buddy. Can’t win, so I don’t try. Both sides use the No True Scotsman argument to suggest that I never was or I am not part of their club. Fortunately, my mother and my Evangelical training taught me to stand on my own two feet and not be a company man. I am more than willing to listen to honest, thoughtful critiques of my beliefs, but demand that I believe this or that or risk losing my Atheist Card, and you will learn how recalcitrant I can be. Evangelicals can at least threaten me with their mythical Hell. What are atheists going to threaten me with? Loss of their support? Loss of their comments? Please. I am almost sixty-eight years old. I am a confirmed curmudgeon. Want to be friends with me? Fine, but you take me as I am. If not, that’s okay. I have more than enough atheist, agnostic, humanist, and pagan friends to carry me safely to my grave. I am too old to worry about making new atheist BFF’s.
I will continue to write about the excesses and dangers I see in American Evangelicalism. I will continue to point out hypocritical clerics in the Black Collar Crime series. I will continue to push back against the unholy alliance between church and state. And yes, most of all, I will continue to tell my story. What I won’t do, however, is hate people just because they are religious, even if they are Evangelicals. I live in an area where seven out of ten people are registered Republicans and virtually everyone believes in Jesus. If I want to happily and quietly live in rural northwest Ohio, then I must be willing to get along with people of faith. I choose to love my neighbor as myself. I choose to have a good testimony before my Christian neighbors. I want my way of life, my words, and my friendliness towards them to be confusing. I want my life to be in direct conflict with what their pastors say atheists believe and how they live. Does anyone seriously think that I would make any difference in my community if I loudly, publicly, and angrily preached from the housetops, Jesus Never Existed! Why, they would think I was a loon.
The other day, a local Democratic party worker, who is a devoted Catholic and a friend, stopped by my home while she was out canvassing. She told me as she leaving, Bruce, you may be an atheist, but you have gospel values. I smiled as she said this to me, thanking her for the kind words. Should I have given her a lesson on where atheists derive their morals and values? Of course not. What she was telling me is that she appreciated my pro-human progressive values. I am sure my atheism doesn’t compute for her, but the manner in which I live my life and the way I am willing to speak out when it matters tells her what kind of man I am. That Fundamentalists — Christian or atheist — can’t or refuse to see and accept me as I am is their problem, not mine.
On occasion, I am asked why I seem to live on the fringe of the atheist movement. Perhaps, this post best explains why I do. I have decided to be my own man, tell my story the best I know how, and leave the results up to God, uh, I mean . . .
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Several years ago, an Evangelical man by the name of Steve left the following comment on the post titled, An Atheist Thanksgiving:
You went from being unsaved to a flat out reprobate buddy. You rejected the God of the Bible to believe you evolved from a rock which came from and explosion 13.8586.678 billion years ago. I agree that these old IFB pastors you pick on all the time have no spine and are just in it for the money but to believe you came from a monkey which nobody has ever seen a monkey turn into a human! Never! You just traded one religion for another. You traded Paul the apostle for that Pedo Richard Dawkins! Have fun in hell buddy
I will leave it to Brian — a former Independent Fundamentalist Baptist preacher’s son — to answer Steve’s comment:
I read Steve P’s post sentence by sentence and tried to find even one sentence that approaches an accurate statement. I was unable to see even one in the lot. Accuracy/truth seems very unimportant to Steve P. Is this true belief in God, this parrot-dull squawking? (with apologies to parrots, who at least make their dull repetitions entertaining!)
Some day, perhaps, Evangelicals will realize that threatening me with their God’s judgment and Hell has no effect on me. The only God I fear is Polly and the only Hell I know is Trump’s America.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Several years ago, Neal asked, Bruce, are you certain Christianity is false?
Neal shared with me his thoughts about the validity of religion in general, saying that while he believes Christianity is false, he has been unable to “completely dismiss Christianity wholesale.” Neal goes on to say, “I want to be able to do so, but I am not sure what to with this lingering doubt it is remotely possible.”
Evangelicals will seize on Neal’s doubts as a sure sign that the Holy Spirit is still working on him, and that his doubts are God saying, “Neal, trust me. By faith, believe what the Bible says is true.” Some Evangelicals, hoping to capitalize on Neal’s lingering doubts, might try to use Pascal’s Wager to draw him into the fold. What if you are wrong, Neal? Wouldn’t it be better to believe (get saved) and be wrong than to not believe and find out after death that Christianity was indeed true? Evangelicals, via Pascal’s Wager, attempt to use fear of being wrong to motivate someone such as Neal to choose Jesus as his Lord and Savior. Of course, Pascal’s Wager doesn’t work, because if Neal really wants to be certain, he would have to embrace every religion’s god or gods. If the goal is to cover all your bases, then Pascal’s Wager requires seekers to be promiscuous in their beliefs, worship, and devotion. Christians, of course, want people such as Neal to only consider their God. Perhaps, the real question is why the Christian God, and not any other God?
There is, perhaps, a far different reason for Neal’s niggling doubts, and that would be what I call an Evangelical/Christian/Fundamentalist hangover. Vestiges of past beliefs lie buried in our memories, and it is these memories that cause fear and doubt. Every Evangelical-turned-atheist has had, at one time or the other, the thought, What if I am wrong? What if the Christian God really is the one true God and the Bible is his Word? What if there is a Heaven and a Hell, and where we spend eternity depends of whether we are saved/born-again?
As long as these memories remain in our minds, they can make an appearance. These memories are the same as having thoughts about a girl we dated over forty years ago or thoughts about traumatic experiences in our past. I find such thoughts amusing. Here I am, married for forty-seven years, yet out of the blue, thoughts come to mind of a girl I dated for five months in 1975. Such is the nature of our minds and memories.
I no longer think the Bible is a God-inspired text
I no longer think the Bible is an inerrant text
I no longer think Jesus is God
I no longer think Jesus was virgin-born
I no longer think Jesus turned water into wine, walked on water, healed the sick, or raised the dead
I no longer think Jesus resurrected from the dead
I no longer think there is a Heaven or a Hell
I think the belief that God will torture all non-Christians in Hell for all eternity is repugnant, abhorrent, revolting, repulsive, repellent, disgusting, offensive, objectionable, cringeworthy, vile, foul, nasty, loathsome, sickening, nauseating, hateful, detestable, execrable, abominable, monstrous, appalling, insufferable, intolerable, unacceptable, contemptible, unsavory, and unpalatable
I think the Bible shows a progression of belief from polytheism to monotheism
I think the Bible teaches multiple plans of salvation
I think much of the history found in the Bible is fictional
I think the Bible God is an abhorrent, vile deity, one I would not worship even if I believed it existed
I think science best explains the natural world
I no longer think humans are sinners
I think humanism provides a moral and ethical basis for life
I see no evidence for the existence of the Christian God; thus I am an atheist
Today, I would add several more reasons to this list Christian:
There are no non-Biblical contemporary reports of Jesus’ miracles, his resurrection, and the events surrounding his death: the temple veil being rent in twain, dead people coming alive and walking the streets of Jerusalem.
Suffering, pain, and death experienced by humans and animals alike, are ever-present reminders that either the Christian God doesn’t exist or he is totally indifferent towards his creation.
Years ago, I wrote a post titled The Danger of Being in a Box and Why It Makes Sense When You Are in It. I wrote a sequel to this post titled What I Found When I Left the Box. In these widely-read posts, I talk about Christianity being a box, and as long as someone is in the box everything makes sense. Once outside of the box, however, things look different. Free to roam the wild, wonderful, dangerous streets of intellectual inquiry, I found evidence that suggested to me that Christianity was not what I thought it was; that the Bible was not what Christians claimed it was. Over time, I began to see that I had bought a false bill of goods; that Christianity was an ancient blood cult. Using critical thinking skills allowed me to dig through the “facts” of Christianity and conclude that Christianity, in totality, was built upon an irrational foundation of faith.
I explain my life this way: When it comes to the God question, I am an agnostic. I am confident that the extant Gods of human creation are false, but it is possible that someday a creator God of some sort might make itself known to us. I can confidently reject Christianity, having fully, completely, and thoroughly investigated its claims. While I am relatively certain that there is no God, I can’t say for certain, there is no God. As with all such questions, it’s all about probabilities. Is it possible a God exists who hasn’t made itself known to us? Sure, that’s within the realm of possibility; as is the belief that human existence is some sort of Westwood-like game simulation. However, the probability of the existence of such a God is so low that I do not waste time thinking about such things (outside of writing for this blog). I live my day-to-day life as an atheist. Thoughts of God never enter my mind, and I attempt to daily live my life according to the humanist ideal.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Years ago, I received the following email from an Evangelical man named Jeff.
I read the seven articles associated with “My Journey” and “Dear Evangelical” on your web site.
Thank you for your honesty and integrity regarding your spiritual walk.
I’ve been a believer in Christ since I was a young child, and God has richly blessed me with a close relationship to him.
Therefore reading your articles produces a deep sadness in me because I can see that you’re missing out on the most important relationship that any human being can have.
One of the first things that popped into my mind while reading your articles was something I’ve believed a long time: “Anything that can be done without Jesus Christ is not Christianity.” You obviously have a significant intellect and great desire to learn and teach. Reading widely and accumulating knowledge is a worthy pursuit, as are many other pursuits. Many worthy endeavors, including all types of theological efforts, can be pursued without a genuine relationship with Jesus Christ. Learning about someone does not mean that you have a love relationship with him/her.
Another quick comment relates to basic statistics. While I’m more than impressed at all the churches you’ve visited, please remember “sample size”. When performing statistical calculations it’s always important to consider sample size, or the number of statistical samples you have with respect to the entire population. If there are about 350,000 churches in the USA and you visited 100 of them, then your sample size is 100/350,000, which is less than 0.03% — an extremely small sample size. Thus when you claim something to the effect that all churches are the same, your sample size is so small that you have no credible basis for such a statement. I personally know some churches where the emphasis is the person of Jesus Christ above all else.
In none of the articles I read did I see any indication of the Holy Spirit’s work in your life. Awareness of your sin and belief in the forgiveness of your sin by Christ’s atoning sacrifice were not mentioned.
Penultimately, although I try to not tell people that they “should” do something, because you claim to be a voracious reader I have a few suggestions, if you have any appetite for spiritual wholeness:
• Books by pastors Ray C. Stedman, Dave Roper, John Piper, and Ray Ortlund
• Articles and books by apologists William Lane Craig, John Lennox, and C.S. Lewis
• Web site reasons.org (the authors of which present credible challenges to some of your claims)
• Short videos by Frank Turek
Lastly, one inescapable fact for me is that because the material universe is so amazingly complex there is no logical explanation for all of it to have come about by mere accident (randomness and mutation). I can’t imagine how so many clever/complex things could come about accidentally.
Respectfully,
Jeff
Where do I begin? Jeff doubts whether I was a True Christian®. Over the past seventeen years, I have received countless emails, blog comments, and social media messages that have asserted the same: that I was never a Christian; that I was deceived; that I was a wolf among sheep. Making these baseless assertions allows my critics to dismiss my story out of hand. It allows them to toss me aside into the reject bin that’s filled with countless other people who went to church but never knew the saving grace of Jesus Christ.
The problem with this argument, of course, is it that is absurd; little more than a wild conspiracy theory. I spent fifty years in the Evangelical church. Twenty-five of those years were spent pastoring churches in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. During this time, I came into intimate contact with Evangelical congregants and ministerial colleagues. I also was close to a number of Evangelical evangelists, missionaries, and college professors. My life was surrounded by professing Christians. Not only that, but I married into a family of Evangelical preachers. My wife’s father was a pastor, as was her uncle. Polly had cousins who were pastors, evangelists, and missionaries. Yet, according to some Christian zealots, I had all of these people fooled. Not one of them — all of whom were indwelt by the Holy Spirit — discerned that I wasn’t a Christian. Not one. My critics will search high and low and not find one person willing to say, I doubted Bruce Gerencser was a Christian. In fact, what they will find is people willing to testify of my commitment to Jesus and my resolve to follow his teachings. I was in every way a lover of Jesus. I had an intimate, loving, and fulfilling relationship with Him, and was, myself, indwelt with the Holy Spirit.
Bruce, you are now an atheist. You don’t believe the Christian God exists, so why does it matter to you that people accept your confession of faith as true? What I want from people is for them to accept my story at face value. When I write about the past, I focus on what I believed at that time. Yes, I was worshiping a myth, but in my mind, I believed I was worshiping the one true God. In my mind, I believed that Jesus had saved me from my sins and called me to be a preacher of the gospel. I believed that the Bible was a supernatural text inspired by a supernatural God. I believed God, in the person of the Holy Spirit, lived inside of me. All of these beliefs were nonsensical, yet, at the time, I believed them with all my heart. Thus, I find it offensive when some Evangelicals dismiss my testimony of faith with a wave of the hand, saying that I never was a Christian. All I am asking is that people accept my story as it is and not try to read their personal judgments, opinions, and theology into my story. When the Jeffs of the world tell me they are Christians, I accept that what they are telling me is true. That’s how human interactions work. We respectfully allow others to tell their own stories. After all, who knows his story better than the person telling it, right?
I found Jeff’s email to be polite, yet littered with passive-aggressive attempts to cast doubt on my past Christian faith. Jeff focuses on my astute study habits and book reading. Worthy pursuits, says Jeff, but one can learn many things about Jesus, yet not have a love relationship with him. Hint, hint, that’s you Bruce. I was a student, an intellectual, but I never truly loved Jesus, Jeff suggests. How does he determine this is so? What criteria does he use to determine that I never truly loved Jesus? Did I say the wrong words when I asked Jesus to save me? Did I belong to the wrong sect? What was it in my writing that led Jeff to conclude Jesus and I never had an intimate relationship? Or is the real issue that my story makes Jeff uncomfortable; that the implications of my loss of faith casts doubt on some of his beliefs?
Most Christians, except those of Pelagian persuasion, believe that true faith is evidenced by good works. James makes this clear when he says:
What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath faith, and have not works? can faith save him? If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, And one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit? Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone. Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works: shew me thy faith without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith by my works. Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble. But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead? Was not Abraham our father justified by works, when he had offered Isaac his son upon the altar? Seest thou how faith wrought with his works, and by works was faith made perfect? And the scripture was fulfilled which saith, Abraham believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness: and he was called the Friend of God. Ye see then how that by works a man is justified, and not by faith only. Likewise also was not Rahab the harlot justified by works, when she had received the messengers, and had sent them out another way? For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also. (James 2:14-26)
I am more than happy to compare good works with Jeff or any other Christian. Not only did I have a credible profession of faith and orthodox beliefs, I also showed I was a follower of Christ through my works. Again, anyone and everyone who knew me as a Christian would testify that I was a true-blue child of God. This is why so many people find my loss of faith so disconcerting. If Bruce could lose his faith, they think, why anybody can.
Jeff goes on to cast more doubt on my past faith by saying, “In none of the articles I read did I see any indication of the Holy Spirit’s work in your life. Awareness of your sin and belief in the forgiveness of your sin by Christ’s atoning sacrifice were not mentioned.” Jeff read all of seven articles out of 2,722 (now 5,480, as of today) posts — little more than a rounding error. Perhaps Jeff should invest time in truly getting to know the subject of his criticism. What Jeff has done so far is akin to someone reading the first seven chapters of Matthew and then saying they have read the Bible. Without fail, the sharpest critics of my life are those who can’t be bothered to read more than the first chapter or two of my autobiography.
For the sake of giving Jeff a thorough answer, let me address what he believes are omissions in my story. I believed that I was a broken, wretched sinner who deserved eternal punishment in the Lake of Fire. I believed that my sins separated me from God and that only through the atoning work of Jesus Christ on the cross could I be forgiven of my sins and be reconciled to God. At the age of fifteen, I came under conviction and the Holy Spirit revealed to me my sinfulness and need for salvation. I repented of my sins and asked Jesus to save me. From that moment in 1972 until November of 2008 — thirty-five years — I wholeheartedly believed that Jesus was my Lord, Savior, and King. While my theology changed over the years, I never lost sight of the centrality of Jesus Christ in my life. He was THE way, THE truth, and THE life. As far as the work of the Holy Spirit in my life, my good works speak for themselves. My devotion to preaching and teaching the Bible and evangelizing the lost was known far and near. I “felt” the presence of the Holy Spirit in my life. I “felt” the Holy Spirit leading and directing me throughout my life. It matters not that I now believe that these things were the machinations of my mind as a result of conditioning and indoctrination, and not the work of a mythical, invisible Spirit. At the time, “I believed” and that’s what matters when trying to determine the truthfulness of my story.
Finally, I want to address Jeff suggesting I read books by this or that author, check out this or that website, or watch apologetic videos. Here’s what I said to him in my brief response to his email:
Up until I deconverted, I read every book John Piper wrote. I’m familiar with his writings and his teachings on Christian hedonism. I read a lot of books by authors who focused on inward spiritual development. My library had over one thousand books. I read authors from the 16th century to the current era. I hope you are not seriously suggesting that if I read this or that book by one or another author that I would miraculously see the light. Give me credit for doing my homework before leaving Christianity. While there were psychological components to my deconversion, the ultimate reasons I left Christianity were of an intellectual nature. I came to the conclusion that the Bible was not what Christians claim it is. I also came to see that Christianity just doesn’t make sense. See :
Many ex-Christians, including myself, spent agonizing weeks, months, and years trying to hang on to their faith. The more we read and studied, the more doubts and questions we had. None of us wanted to leave Christianity. Speaking for myself, why would I ever want to leave all that I had ever known? Why would I want to leave the foundation upon which my life, marriage, and family were built? Why would I want to leave the social connections I had built over five decades? Why would I want to lose all my friends — men and women I had known for much of my adult life? Why would I want to leave a job that I personally found meaningful and fulfilling?
One need only read my letters: Dear Family, Friends, and Former Parishioners and Dear Friend, to literally feel the angst and raw emotion in my decision to abandon all I knew and held dear. I suspect that many of the readers of this blog have similar testimonies.
Come November, it will be sixteen years since I walked out the back door of the Ney United Methodist Church, never to return. Since then, scores of Evangelical apologists have stopped by to “educate” me about the faults in my testimony of faith. I have, by now, heard it all. There are no new arguments for Christianity forthcoming. All Christian authors do is repackage the same old, tired, worn-out arguments in books with new titles. If new evidence for Christianity is someday found, I will honestly and openly look at it and determine its worthiness. Until then, I am confident that I have thoroughly investigated the claims of Christianity. I am confident that my rejection of Christianity is intellectually sound.
After I responded to Jeff’s email, he sent me the following:
Given that engaging in internet dialogue is limiting, I thought a useful response would be for me to briefly document my personal situation if I were to “deconvert”.
If I Were to Deconvert from Christianity …
I would become lonely because I would lose my closest, constant companion.
Death would become a great unknown because the one who had conquered death would be dead.
I would become unloved because the one who had known me most deeply me would be absent.
I would lose the sweet communion with my Master.
I would tumble into despair because my purpose for my life would be obliterated.
I would become overburdened with guilt because my sins and failures would persist
My hope for a better future would dissipate because no one would be preparing a better place for me.
I would become fearful because I would lose my defender who had shielded me from attacks.
I would become stoical because my emotions would be stunted.
Beauty would become meaningless because I would lose the one who is beauty’s very essence.
Making decisions would be fraught with fear because I would lose my personal guide.
Temptations would become irresistible because the one holding me accountable would be gone.
I would lose my hope of receiving deep, honest, lasting joy because my joy-giver would be absent.
I would become mean because the one who had comforted my deepest hurts would be gone.
Trials would become unbearable because my trial-bearer would be gone.
If I lost my relatives and friends, I would be important to no one.
If I Were to Deconvert from Belief in God …
My life would be devoid of meaning and significance because my life would be little more than the result of purposeless, random accidents (otherwise known as biological mutations).
My standard for morality would vanish; morality would be determined by whoever had power over me.
My understanding of the beginning of life would disappear.
My understanding of the beginning of space and time would disappear.
My desire to perform altruistic acts would be quenched.
My mind would likely burst from a most unsettling conundrum: lacking a transcendent creator, the only other explanation for my existence would be neo-Darwinian evolution, which is illogical and untenable, leaving the question of my identity painfully unanswered.
I would lose my part in the greatest story ever told.
I would lose my ability to intervene through prayer on others’ behalf to God.
My prospect for the end of the world would become fearful because it would depend on mankind’s actions instead of the will of the one who created it.
My worldview would become nonsensical because the multitude of fine-tuning aspects of the universe would become inexplicable, impossible coincidences instead of evidences of a loving creator.
With so much to lose, how could I ever “deconvert”?
All I can say to what Jeff has written is *sigh.* (Please see Why I Use the Word “Sigh.”) Perhaps others will want to address Jeff’s false (and offensive) caricature of unbelievers. If I believed these things to be true, I too would live in hopelessness and despair. However, all that Jeff has done is show us how a Christian Fundamentalist views life and the universe. Presuppositions abound. Remove them, and everything looks gloriously and wonderfully different. There is life post-Jesus, of that I am sure. I have written countless posts about purpose and meaning, and how atheists/agnostics/humanists/unbelievers can and do find meaning and purpose in the present precisely because they have no need of religion. Jeff’s not interested in learning about these things because in Jesus he has all that he needs. Jeff married the first girl he ever dated, and now he judges all other marriages by his. He lacks the experience necessary to make such judgments of others. For him to suggest that his peculiar interpretation of an ancient religion and its text is the prescription for happiness, love, and fulfillment is beyond arrogant. Such is the nature of Evangelical Christianity. Evangelicalism is all that Jeff has ever known. Until he experiences life outside of the box, there’s not much hope for him. A wild, wonderful world awaits Jeff if he dares to scale the walls of his intellectual and psychological jail and escape. He’s not ready to do so today, but there’s hope. You see, I once was a Jeff. And if I can find new life in reason and humanistic principles, I know Jeff can too. With God — err, I mean intellectual inquiry — ANYTHING is possible!
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Warning to easily offended Evangelicals: Snark and R-rated humor ahead. You have been warned!
Those of us raised in Evangelical churches often heard our pastors speak of every unsaved person having a God-shaped hole in their lives. Where this hole was exactly never was explained. It couldn’t have been in the physical, blood-pumping heart. Surgeons can repair holes in hearts — no God needed. Perhaps, this hole was in the soul — another thing pastors never could explain. Where, exactly, does the soul reside? How can any of us know we have a soul, or a spirit, for that matter? And I have to ask at this point, if unsaved people have a God-shaped hole in their hearts, does that make them HOLY? 🙂
Regardless of where said hole is located, Evangelical pastors assure sinners that it exists and that God, on purpose, created this hole in every human being. In other words, all of us were born with a birth defect. Supposedly, God created this hole so all of us would one day want and need him. Well, except for the non-elect — according to Calvinists. They go through life with holes that can never be filled by God because God put a steel plate over their holes. (I am restraining myself here. All this hole talk makes me want to talk about sex.) Arminians, on the other hand, believe all humans are born into this world with God-shaped holes in their lives. But, even for Jacob Arminius’ clan, if sinners repeatedly reject God’s plan for hole-filling, God will pour cement into their hole — giving them a hardened heart. Having committed the unpardonable sin, sinners with cement-filled holes can never, ever be saved.
The Bible, of course, mentions nothing about unsaved people having a God-shaped hole in their lives. That unbelievers have one is based on inference; a common way Evangelicals use to construct new doctrines. Take a verse here, a verse there, and another verse over here, and BOOM! there it is. Surely you see it, right? Evangelicals often use inference to prove various points of their eschatological beliefs. For example, the Bible doesn’t mention the rapture — the moment when Jesus will come again (no sex joke here either) in the clouds and gather up all the Evangelicals to take them home to Heaven. You will search in vain for a verse, any verse, that says Jesus will soon return to earth’s atmosphere to catch away the saved. If you start pressing Evangelicals on some of their beliefs you will find that their interpretations are based on presuppositions. We believe that the rapture of the church is imminent, says Pastor I.M. Fullashit, and this and that verse — twisted, contorted, and pressed — proves it! So it is with God-shaped holes.
If unsaved people have a God-shaped hole in their hearts, does that make them HOLY?
Bruce Gerencser
The implication of the God-shaped hole is this: unsaved people live empty, hopeless, desperate, unfilled lives lacking meaning, purpose, and direction. Without God filling the pothole he created in your life, you are vile sinner who hates God. Six years ago, my partner and I went to Promedica Hospital in Toledo to visit grandchild number twelve. Ezra was born seven weeks early so he is in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Here was this precious, wonderful little boy. I shed a tear as I looked at him sleeping, wondering what he would one day become. I wondered about what kind of world he is being born into now that Donald Trump is trying to burn the United States to the ground. So many questions Grandpa had about his future, but today, he’s my grandson, my daughter’s first child, and I love him.
If I were still an Evangelical, perhaps I would have uttered a prayer, asking God to quickly fill my wicked, vile grandson’s life with the presence of the Holy Spirit. You see, Evangelicals believe that infants, too, have a God-shaped hole. King David, a murderous, adulterous man who supposedly had a heart for God, had this to say about himself: Behold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me. (Psalm 51:5) Evangelicals extrapolate from this verse the belief that ALL children are conceived in sin and shaped in iniquity (the doctrine of original sin). Of course, this is a conclusion without corroborating evidence. All that can be said here is that David thought he was wicked from birth. Press Evangelicals on the notion of original sin and you will quickly find that this doctrine is built upon a rotting foundation; that this doctrine requires playing Bible gymnastics to affirm its teaching. If you want a good illustration of how this game is played, please read John Piper’s post titled, What is the Biblical Evidence for Original Sin? Now, without the doctrine of original sin, there’s no need for human redemption and salvation. Evangelicals need the human herd divided into two groups — saved and lost — for their salvation scheme to work. Without this division, why, we would all just be humans, each capable of good and bad behavior. If there’s no sin, there’s no need for Jesus’ death on the cross or his resurrection from the dead.
Piper sums up his nonsensical defense of infants being born hellions with these two points:
Infants die, therefore they are not innocent.
If humanity is not born in sin, wouldn’t we expect there to be some people who have “beaten the odds” and never sinned?
Makes perfect sense to Evangelicals. But, to those of us outside of the bubble, we know that infants are fine just as they are; that what they need is LOVE, and not salvation. What, exactly, had my grandson done to need redemption? In the first week of life, all he did was sleep, eat, occasionally cry, poop, and pee. Fortunately, his parents will not be taking him to a Christian indoctrination center any time soon. I had to stop attending religious rituals for my newly-born grandchildren after almost having a stroke when a priest said my granddaughter was possessed by the Devil and must be exorcised — which he promptly proceeded to do. Quite frankly, I wanted to hold that priest’s head in the baptismal font water for about five minutes. There, another demon exorcised!
The only hole Christians have is in their minds; a hole made in their intellect by religion. I am not saying that Evangelicals are stupid or ignorant, though more than a few comments left on this blog over the years might lead me to conclude otherwise. What I am saying is that Evangelical beliefs cripple the minds of believers; that their minds are shut off from certain paths of inquiry. Instead of following the path wherever it leads, Evangelicals, much like the Israelites wandering in the desert for forty years, intellectually wander within what they believe is a God-approved box. Their pastors warn them if they dare to peek over the top of the box or wander from its confines, that they risk falling into heresy or sin; that only within the box will their soul and life be safe and secure.
Evangelicals have created what I call the Christian Ghetto®, a world where Evangelical versions of everything exist. Evangelical congregants are encouraged to only read Christian books, attend Christian movies, and watch Christian TV. I remember one congregant whom I tried my darnedest to convince to read the Calvinistic books I recommended to members. She would take the books home, but never read them. One day, I stopped by to visit her. Usually, congregants would hide anything that would lead me to conclude that they were not following the commands, edicts, rules, laws, and regulations of Pastor Bruce, uh I mean God. On this particular day, this dear woman forgot to hide the reason she wasn’t interested in reading the latest, greatest eighteenth-century book by a dried prune of a Puritan preacher. On her living room table sat a large stack of true-crime books. I looked at the books, picked up one of them, briefly leafed through it, and said nothing. Back then, I could do passive-aggressive quite well. Point made, preacher, point made. You see, she wanted to roam outside of the box. This woman found theology books boring, whereas true-crime books were filled with all sorts of exciting stories.
As an Evangelical pastor, part of my duty was to make sure people stayed within the confines of the box. People who dared to leave the box often did not return, putting their eternal destinies at risk. The Bible says in 1 John 2:19:
They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would no doubt have continued with us: but they went out, that they might be made manifest that they were not all of us.
Let me translate this from the original Hungarian:
Those people who left our church were not True Christians®. Had they been True Christians® they would have kept their asses in the pew and continued to listen to Pastor Bruce’s Holy Spirit-filled sermons, obeying his every word. But, they left, and this is proof that they never were really True Christians®.
Evangelicalism is all about obedience and conformity. Independent thinking is discouraged and is often taken as a sign of a person who isn’t right with God. Congregants are expected to believe, by faith, that whatever the Bible says is true (inspiration, inerrancy, infallibility). While doubts and questions are tolerated to a small degree, True Christians® are expected to eventually, after being properly schooled and corrected, toe the line. And if they can’t or won’t, these rebellious church members are expected to leave the church. Of course, by leaving they prove they weren’t True Christians®, or at the very least prove that the pastor was right to have serious doubts about their salvation.
Fortunately, an increasing number of Evangelicals (and Christians of all stripes) are propping up a ladder on the inside wall of the box and escaping into the night. Once free, these escapees wander the wild, woolly, dangerous streets of the world. (See The Danger of Being in a Box and Why it Makes Sense When You Are In It and What I Found When I Left the Box.) No longer bound by church doctrine, orthodoxy, and the like, these people are free to follow the path of life wherever it leads. Few ever return to the box. Most of them find homes in progressive/liberal Christian churches, Unitarian Universalist churches, or embrace non-Christian beliefs. Some of them say they are spiritual and have no interest in organized religion. An increasing number of these runners become agnostics or atheists. You see, once you are truly free, life becomes all about the journey and not the destination. Evangelicals fixate on right beliefs and practices because where they spend eternity depends on them believing and practicing the right things. Believe the wrong things and Hell awaits. Believe the right things — by faith — and put those beliefs into practice (good works), and a room in God’s Trump Hotel awaits you after death. Life, then, is just preparation for eternity (Amos 3:3). Life is all about getting ready to meet God and move into the room Jesus has spent thousands of years preparing for you.
Once free from the pernicious, intellect-killing, mind-rotting grip of Evangelical dogma, people feel a great sense of freedom, yet, at the same time, they, once again, sense a hole in their lives. This hole, however, is real. It is a knowledge-filled hole; a hole located in the mind that only can be filled with intellectual inquiry. Most former Evangelicals lament the fact that they had so many bat-shit crazy beliefs. Who among us hasn’t said, I can’t believe that I believed THAT! I see all those hands! For those of us who were Evangelicals for years, we realize that we burned a lot of brain cells (and daylight) searching after “truths” that were mirages; “truths” that were passed down from generation to generation by the tribal elders of our blood cult; “truths” that have no grounding in facts and evidence. Once we reach this point, there’s often a mind-flushing of sorts that takes place. For some of us, we had to push the handle numerous times before our minds were free of a lifetime of detritus. Once cleansed of Biblical “truth,” former Evangelicals realize that there’s a lot they don’t know about the world. Spend your life having truth defined by the Bible and God-ordained men alone, and you are going to miss out on a lot of important stuff.
Most Evangelicals are creationists. No need to study science, right? The Bible says, In the Beginning GOD CREATED the heavens and earth. What else is there to know? Come to find out, a hell of a lot of stuff. I have spent the last seventeen years trying to educate myself on matters of biology, archeology, geology, and astronomy, to name a few. The same could be said about history and the social sciences. So much to learn, but here’s the problem: I am sixty-seven years old and in failing health. I do what I can, but I am so grateful for the fact that my children and grandchildren are free from the cult; that they value intellectual inquiry; that they are skeptical — and often humored — of claims made by Christians. It thrills me down to the bottoms of my painful feet that my grandchildren are voracious readers; that they are not held captive by the Bible or Christian books. Freedom, for them, yea, for all of us, comes one book at a time.
The impetus for this post came from an email I received from a friend of mine. She told me of a discussion she was having with a sibling over the plurality of Gods in the Old Testament — specifically the Hebrew words Yahweh and Elohim. Evangelicals, of course, believe that these words are the same name for their God. There is ONE God, Evangelicals say, yet they worship a triune God — Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Well, God is three in one, Christians say. Three, yet one. Makes perfect sense, right? Anyhow, my friend, as I do, thinks that the Old Testament Gods were plural in number. A natural reading of the text, without pushing it through a Trinitarian sieve, reveals that Christianity rests on a polytheistic foundation. My friend’s sibling would have none of her “worldly” thoughts, reminding her that pride was man’s first sin, and that pridefully attaining “worldly” knowledge is futile. Her sibling told her that he was focused on his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who is his all-in-all; the only person who can fill the God-shaped hole in his heart.
My friend said to me, “His God-shaped hole is filled with God, but I don’t have a God-shaped hole; I have a knowledge-shaped hole and I am having fun filling it.” She sure hit the proverbial nail on the head! With no thoughts or worries about God or eternity, we are free to read and study that which interests us. The goal is to be a more informed person today than I was yesterday. I will never become as competent in matters of science as younger skeptics will, but I can, by the grace of my almighty intellect, know more about how the world works today than I knew as a card-carrying member of the Ken Ham Were You There? Club®. Much like my friend, I intend to fill the hole in my life with knowledge. I invite Evangelicals to dare to scale the walls of the box. Freedom awaits, as does a library card.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
ObstacleChick asked, “What did you learn about the Bible as a college student?” Specifically, ObstacleChick wants to know what I was taught about the origin of the Bible, the existence of “other” texts, and why the Apocrypha was excluded from the Protestant Bible. ObstacleChick also asked what I taught congregants about these things.
Most Evangelicals believe the Bible is the inspired, inerrant, infallible Word of God. The college I attended, Midwestern Baptist College in Pontiac, Michigan, believed the Bible was a divinely written, supernatural, one-of-a-kind book; a text by which all things were to be measured. My professors took one of two approaches to how the Bible came to be:
God dictated the exact words of the Bible to its authors.
God used fallible humans, with their cultures and experiences, to write the Bible, and supernaturally, through the Holy Spirit, made sure that what they wrote was exactly what he intended for them to write. (2 Peter 1:21)
Of course, appeals were made to the Bible itself to “prove” that the Bible was indeed what my professors claimed it was. In other words, the Bible was a supernatural book because it said it was; the Bible was inerrant because it said it was. There were no errors, mistakes, or contradictions in the Bible because its author, God, is incapable of making mistakes. This, of course, is classic circular reasoning.
These presuppositions were laws students were expected to obey without question. Questioning the nature of the Bible brought swift, certain expulsion. Midwestern was also King James-only, and only used certain Greek texts in its Greek classes. The premise upon which every class was taught was the belief that the Bible was inspired, inerrant, and infallible.
I can’t remember a time when one of my professors talked about non-canonical texts or variants. Many of my classes were little more than glorified Sunday school classes, a common problem found in Evangelical colleges to this day. The goal was to teach ministers-in-training how to properly preach and teach the Bible. The Bible, then, was viewed as a book of divine knowledge, an instruction manual for life.
The IFB church movement is inherently and proudly anti-Catholic. To many IFB preachers, the Catholic church is the great whore of Babylon described in Revelation 17; a false religion that will one day be used by the Antichrist to control the masses. Thus, the Apocrypha was rejected because of its inclusion in the Catholic Bible. It was not until much later that I learned the 1611 version of the King James Bible included the Apocrypha, and that many of the men who put together what is now the Bible were Catholics. Facts that didn’t fit the approved narrative were ignored or banned.
Most of the students at Midwestern came from Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) churches which had similar beliefs as those of the college. Thus, college classes reinforced beliefs students brought with them from home. The New International Version (NIV) came out in 1978, and students were not allowed to have a copy of it in their possession. Midwestern was a King James school — no corrupt, Satanic Bibles allowed. I remember having a discussion with the Greek professor’s son who was home on break from Baptist Bible College in Springfield, Missouri. He had a brand spanking new copy of the NIV. I remember thinking of how “liberal” he was, and that if word got out about his use of the NIV it could cost his father his job. By the next academic year, the Greek professor was gone. Rumor had it he was dismissed because he refused to toe the party line on the King James Bible. (Keep in mind the Greek professor was Fundamentalist in every other way — and still is today — but his refusal to use only the King James Version of the Bible branded him as a heretic.)
I carried the aforementioned beliefs from Midwestern into the ministry, and I wouldn’t question them for many years. I expected congregants to embrace without question the belief that the Bible was a God-inspired, inerrant, infallible text. At the churches I pastored, we were people of the BOOK! Questions and doubts were viewed as tools used by Satan to lead Christians astray and to render churches powerless. Alleged contradictions were “explained” and those that couldn’t be were relegated to the land of Trust God. He never makes mistakes.
It wasn’t until the late 1990s that I came to see that what I had been taught about the history and nature of the Bible was a lie; that all translations had errors, mistakes, and contradictions; that there were no such things as inerrant manuscripts. My exposure to higher textual criticism forced me to conclude that the Bible was very much a man-made book; a fallible book used by God to convey truth. I believed then that God could use human means to convey his truth, even if the Bible itself was fallible.
As far as the churches I pastored were concerned, I never said anything from the pulpit that would cause people to doubt that the Bible was the Word of God. Toward the end of my time in the ministry, I would mention variants in the Greek texts and why some Biblical texts might not say what we Christians have traditionally thought they said. No one seemed to have a problem with these admissions. As is often the case in Evangelical churches, congregants trusted me. They believed that whatever I told them from the pulpit was the Truth. Of course, the truth I was preaching was shaped and molded by my presuppositions about the Bible. Telling congregants the REAL truth would have resulted in conflict and loss of faith. Can’t have that! Remember, most people attend church so they can feel affirmed and have their felt needs met. No one wants a pastor who casts doubt on the Bible and its teachings. Congregants want cheerleaders, not truth-tellers.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
