Thanks to modern medicine and clean water, most of us will live into our seventies and even our eighties. Compare our lifespan to that of the rabbits that hop through our yards or the cats sleeping their lives away on our couches, and we live relatively long lives. The difference between us and other animals is that we measure life by hours, days, and years. Rabbits and cats exist, until they don’t, with nary a thought about the brevity of their lives. They live, and then they die. We humans also live and die, but we tend to think a lot about our lives and their ultimate ends. We wonder, is there life after death? We strive to extend our lives as long as possible, fearing that despite what Christians tell us, there might not be anything waiting for us after we die; that death is the equivalent of shutting off our computers. As an atheist, I believe that the only thing that awaits me after death is endless darkness and silence. I have often pondered, in the still of night, being alive and then dead; that moment when all that went into making me who I am ceases to exist.
I don’t fear dying. It’s a waste of time to fear that which you cannot control. That said, I do ponder how best to live what life I have left. Age and health problems have done that to me. If I live to be seventy, I have less than three years left before I am no more. It seems like yesterday that I was a young buck running free, thinking I was immortal. It seems like yesterday that I enrolled at Midwestern Baptist College, married the love of my life, and fathered six children. It seems like yesterday that I was pastoring churches, winning souls, and investing my life in the work of the ministry. Now I am sixty-seven years old, a grandfather to sixteen wonderful grandchildren. Compared to my life when I was young, time is moving at breakneck speed. As I look at my grandchildren, I see how quickly they are growing, both in stature and intellect.
In six weeks, it will be Thanksgiving, and in a little over two months, we will celebrate Christmas. Didn’t we just celebrate these holidays a couple of months ago? On and on, with or without us, time moves along, never stopping for us to catch our breath or reset our navigation. I often find that I am in bondage to my to-do list. As my health declines and I feel the need to join the cat at the end of couch, the list gets longer and longer. I feel oppressed when I think about it. Damn, so much to do. I’m never going to get these things done. Silly, I know, because the fact of the matter is that most of what is on my list doesn’t matter. If I get to the things on my list, fine, but if I don’t, will it make one bit of difference? I doubt it. As I get closer and closer to the end of life, I find myself — on most days — focusing on the people that matter to me: my family and friends.
One of the games older people play is the “What If” Game. Have you played this game? I know I have. What if my dad didn’t move his family all over the place and I got to go to the same school instead of attending ten schools in twelve years? What if my mom and dad stayed married, instead of divorcing when I was fourteen? What if my dad was still alive instead of dying at age forty-nine and my mom was still alive instead of killing herself at age fifty-four? What if I married the first girl I loved instead of the last one? What if I went to Briercrest Bible College instead of Midwestern Baptist College? What if my parents stayed members of the Episcopal church instead of joining up with Fundamentalist Baptists? What if I stayed on as pastor of Somerset Baptist Church instead of moving 1,600 miles away to Texas to co-pastor Community Baptist Church? What if I never moved away from Southeast Ohio? Or Northwest Ohio? Or Central Michigan? Or Southwest Arizona? What if? What if? What if?
Life is made up of countless decisions. Each decision we make alters our lives, sometimes in insignificant ways, other times in ways that forever change us. Every decision moves us further down the path of life. While we would like to think that if we had done differently at a certain point in life, things would have turned out better for us, how can we know for sure that would be the case? Alter your timeline at one point and everything changes. And isn’t that the sum of what we call life? Ever-moving, ever-changing. The most that any of us can do is use the information at hand to make the best possible decisions. I have made countless bad decisions, choices that altered my life and that of my family in profound ways. Shit, I tell myself, I would sure like a do-over. Well, there are no do-overs, no second chances. All any of us can do is learn from the past and try to do better the next time.
I have also made innumerable good decisions. I could play the “What If” Game and wonder if the good decisions I’ve made could have been better, but that’s a game for fools to play. I don’t believe in soulmates. I suspect had I gone to a different college or lived in a different place, I would have met a woman, fallen in love, gotten married, and lived happily ever after — or not. That said, that’s not what happened, and when I met a beautiful, dark-haired seventeen-year-old girl named Polly at Midwestern Baptist College, I knew she was the one for me. This one choice altered my life in more ways than I could ever imagine. We were naïve youths when we said I do, but here we are five decades later, still in love, and most of all, best friends. Both of us could play the “What If” Game, but why would we? Is not what we have good enough? Is it not more than we could ever have imagined? Instead of wondering about what might have been, I choose to live in the present, grateful for all the blessings that have come my way. As life winds down for me, I choose to think about what I have instead of what might have been.
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.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
I recently talked to a high school football player about an accident he was in that almost killed him. I told him that he was one lucky guy to have survived the crash (he was t-boned by a woman who ran a stop sign). He replied, well God still has a plan for me! Polly’s Mom will soon have surgery for breast cancer. She has thrown herself into the arms of Jesus whom she believes will always take care of her and never leave or forsake her. Polly’s father went through hip replacement surgery two years ago, hoping that the surgery would ease his pain and increase his mobility. Instead, in what can only be described as an unmitigated disaster, Polly’s father will never walk more than a few steps again and is relegated to a wheelchair. When asked about his plight, he replies, this is all part of God’s plan. I am putting my faith and trust in Jesus, believing that all things will work out according to his plan. I have a dear Christian friend who has spent the past decade battling one affliction after another. This year, to add insult to injury, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. My friend has faced the indignity of losing her hair from chemotherapy/radiation treatments. Yet, no matter what comes her way, she knows that God will give her strength as he works out his plan in her life.
God is good all the time, Evangelicals say. He has a purpose and plan for everyone, and everything that happens in their lives is according to God’s divine script for their lives. And even when it comes to death, Evangelicals believe that God has appointed a date/time when they will die. No one comes into the world and no one leave this world unless God says they can. The Bible says:
See now that I, even I, am he, and there is no god with me: I kill, and I make alive; I wound, and I heal: neither is there any that can deliver out of my hand. (Deuteronomy 32:39)
Neither is worshipped with men’s hands, as though he needed any thing, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things; For in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring. (Acts 17:25,28)
I am [Jesus] he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death. (Revelation 1:18)
And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment: (Hebrews 9:27)
What makes things worse is that not only do Evangelicals believe that God has a purpose and plan for their lives, they also believe that no matter how much they suffer or face adversity, once they die, God will reward them with eternal life in Heaven. I call this the divine payoff. Revelation 21:4 says:
And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.
Evangelicals hang their hat on the belief that a perfect life awaits them after death. They will be reunited with their Christian loved ones and never again have to deal with non-Christians. A perfect world in every way, preachers say, one wherein dwells love, peace, and righteousness. It comes as no surprise then, that many Evangelicals just float through life, facing what comes their way with indifference, believing God will make all things new in the end and give them the desires of their hearts (hearts that have been changed by God).
The problem with this kind of fanciful thinking, of course, is that it is irrational. Evangelicals have no proof for their claims except to say, THE BIBLE SAYS! And therein lies the problem. Countless Christians believe the Bible is a supernatural text written by a supernatural God, and given to them to reveal the truth about life, death, and the afterlife. Evangelicals have no tangible evidence for these claims except to quote book, chapter, and verse. God said it, I believe it, and that settles it for me, Evangelicals say about the Bible. Faith blinds them to reality and often leads to real-life, disastrous outcomes. I can’t help but think of my father-in-law. When the surgeon recommended hip replacement, Dad said yes, believing that God would work everything out according to his will. That the surgery was an epic failure is of no matter. Whatever happens is according to God’s sovereign, unknowable plan. Evangelicals are conditioned to never gripe or complain about anything. They are told to have faith, believing: And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28) The Apostle Paul said in Romans 9:20,21:
Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?
Don’t bitch, whine, or complain, Christians!God is on the job, and everything that happens in your lives is according to his script for your life. Buckle up and hang on. Those who make it to the ride’s end will be handsomely rewarded with pain-free eternal lives. Years ago, I heard Polly’s cousin, Evangelist David Young, say, there is coming a day when you will be glad you are a Christian! The Bibles does say, after all, that he that endureth to the end shall be saved. In the minds of Christians, there is coming a day when they will be vindicated and everything will be made new. Life on this side of the grave is viewed as insignificant, a mere moment in time when compared with millions of years of blessed, wonderful, atheist-free eternal life. This present life, then, is all about preparing to meet God face to face. According to James 4:14:
Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.
For us old-timers who attended school back in the day when buildings were heated with boilers, we can remember aimlessly watching the stream rise up from the radiators and dissipate on cold winter days. This aptly describes how Evangelicals are taught to view life.
If Christianity is anything, it is the religion of helplessness. The Christian song, I Can’t Even Walk Without You Holding my Hand perfectly illustrates this:
I thought number one
Would surely be me
I thought I could be
what I wanted to be
I thought I could build
on life’s sinking sand
but now I can’t even walk
without you holding my hand
I thought I could do a lot on my own
I thought I could make it all day long
I thought of myself as a mighty big man
but Lord I can’t even walk
without you holding my hand
O Lord I can’t even walk
without you holding my hand
the mountains too high
and the valleys too wide
down on my knees
that’s where I learned to stand
O Lord I can’t even walk
without you holding my hand
I think I’ll make Jesus my all and all
and if I’m in trouble
on his name I’ll call,
if I didn’t trust him
I’d be less of a man
cause Lord I can’t even walk
without you holding my hand
O Lord I can’t even walk
without you holding my hand
the mountains too high
and the valleys too wide
down on my knees
that’s where I learned to stand
cause Lord I can’t even walk
without you holding my hand
O Lord I can’t even walk
without you holding my hand
In Acts 17:28, Paul says: For in him we live, and move, and have our being …
Millions and millions of Christians believe that they couldn’t breathe or walk without God giving them the power and strength to do so. In 2016, the late Billy Graham wrote:
Did you ever stop to ask yourself where you got the inner strength to overcome these problems? Yes, I realize you probably take credit for it—but in reality, God made you, and He was the One who gave you the ability to do it. In other words, without God’s unseen help you would have been helpless.
Why, then, do you find it so hard to admit you need God, or to turn to Him when you face something you don’t know how to handle (as you inevitably will)? There may be several reasons—but the basic reason can be summed up in one word: pride. Pride makes you want to take all the credit for the things you’ve been able to accomplish, and pride also makes you want to do everything on your own.
But pride can be a very dangerous thing, blinding us to our faults and cutting us off from others. Pride also can lead us into doing things that are wrong, because we think they’ll make us greater or more powerful. The Bible warns, “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18).
Suppose you are totally paralyzed and can do nothing for yourself but talk. And suppose a strong and reliable friend promised to live with you and do whatever you needed done. How could you glorify this friend if a stranger came to see you?
Would you glorify his generosity and strength by trying to get out of bed and carry him? No! You would say, “Friend, please come lift me up, and would you put a pillow behind me so I can look at my guest? And would you please put my glasses on for me?”
And so your visitor would learn from your requests that you are helpless and that your friend is strong and kind. You glorify your friend by needing him, and by asking him for help, and counting on him.
In John 15:5, Jesus says, “Apart from me you can do nothing.” So we really are paralyzed. Without Christ, we are capable of no Christ-exalting good. As Paul says in Romans 7:18, “Nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh.”
Such thinking distorts reality and can cause great harm. Christians beg and plead with God for deliverance from “sin,” believing that God will give them victory over their transgressions. And when they fall or run into the same “sin” again? Why, 1 John 1:9 covers it all: If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. All helpless Evangelicals need to do is confess their “sins” and God wipes their slate clean. Their helplessness breeds codependency. Evangelicals are never told that they have the power to change their ways. Want to stop looking at porn? Stop looking a porn. Want to stop being an abusive spouse? Change your ways. But instead of taking personal responsibility for bad behavior and changing their ways, Evangelicals cast all their “sins” and burdens at the feet of Jesus, crying, LORD I AM HELPLESS. PLEASE HELP ME. Such thinking breeds infantilism. Poor, helpless Christians caught in an endless cycle of repentance and forgiveness never develop the resolve to change their ways. And Jesus the drug dealer likes them this way — hooked on helpless pleading for forgiveness.
This kind of thinking is rooted in the teachings of the Bible. Whatever it says, Evangelicals say, is true. If God says Christians are helpless without him, that means they are helpless. God has spoken, end of story. As long as the followers of Jesus give the Bible undue, unwarranted influence over their lives, they will continue to be helpless. The Christian God doesn’t heal mental cripples, he makes them. In fact, God wants Christians to totally depend on him. If Christians wake up and realize they DON’T need God to live their lives, I suspect that many of the “sins” (bad behaviors) they struggle with will find resolution. The burden of change rests on us. Yes, change is hard, but it is possible if we truly put our mind to it. Begging and pleading with God accomplishes nothing. How can it, right? At best, the Creator is a deistic entity who isn’t involved in the ministrations of men. It’s far more likely, however, that we are on our own, and if we want to change it is up to us to do so.
How did Christian beliefs about the nature and helpless of man distort reality in your life? Did these beliefs cause harm, not only to yourself, but to others? Please share your thoughts in the comment section.
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 61, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 40 years. He and his wife have six grown children and twelve grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist. For more information about Bruce, please read the About page.
Bruce is a local photography business owner, operating Defiance County Photo out of his home. If you live in Northwest Ohio and would like to hire Bruce, please email him.
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When we fully understand the brevity of life, its fleeting joys and unavoidable pains; when we accept the fact that all men and women are approaching an inevitable doom; the consciousness of it should make us more kindly and considerate of each other. This feeling should make men and women use their best efforts to help their fellow travelers on the road, to make the path brighter and easier… for the wayfarers who must live a common life and die a common death.
Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last, last time. Perhaps the root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, which is the only fact we have.
— James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time via the No Qualms blog
I often think of humankind as a long procession whose beginning and end are out of sight. We the living… have no control over when or where we enter the procession, or even how long we are part of it, but we do get to choose our marching companions. And we can all exercise some control over what direction the procession takes, what part we play, and how we play it.
This is the one hundred seventy-eighth installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.
Today’s Songs of Sacrilege is God is On Our Side by Roxanne Cote.
Can’t you see the starving child?
Can’t you see the corpses piled?
A comedy of dirt and blood
And God is on our side
Sex slaves and trafficking
Broken homes are for bidding
Love at a price to buy
And God is on our side
Day and night
I yearn for you
by the dimmest light
And I know
I’m bearing my greatest fight
Where religions were made to divide
My brother and I
For all the love we tried and
Prayers we lied and
God is on our side
Monks and kings are born heartless
Living in wild circus
But your myths are here to guide
And God is on our side
Governing a red madness
Fruiting a black sadness T
he faith in me has died
And God is on our side
Christopher Hitchens Monologue
Is it good for the world to appeal to our credulity and not to our skepticism? Is it good for the world to worship a deity that takes sides in wars and human affairs? To appeal to our fear and guilt, is it good for the world? To our terror, our terror of death, is it good to appeal? To preach guilt and shame about the sexual act and the sexual relationship, is this good for the world? And asking yourself all that while, are these really religious responsibilities, as I maintain they are? To terrify children with the image of hell and eternal punishment, not just of themselves, but of their parents and those they love Perhaps worst of all, to consider women an inferior creation, is that good for the world? And can you name me a religion that has not done that?
Are you gonna hide forever?
Are you gonna hide forever?
Are you gonna hide forever?
Are you gonna hide forever?
Are you gonna hide forever?
This is the one hundred and seventy-ninth installment in The Sounds of Fundamentalism series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a video clip that shows the crazy, cantankerous, or contradictory side of Evangelical Christianity, please send me an email with the name or link to the video. Please do not leave suggestions in the comment section. Let’s have some fun!
Today’s Sound of Fundamentalism features a video clip of Evangelical Bill Wiese talking out how he evangelized a dying atheist. Wiese, a con-artist for Jesus, is best known for his claim of having an out of body experience that landed him in hell for twenty-three minutes. Wiese has made a lot of cash off of this con, so there is no reason to believe that his atheist story is true either, or at the very least it happened as exactly as Wiese says it did.
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.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
Recently, a reader sent me the following question:
My question is this: after you became an atheist, did you feel “sad” (using sad for a lack of a better word) with your new belief that there is no hope of the afterlife, specifically the hope to see deceased loved ones again?
This is an excellent question, one that I hope I can answer adequately and honestly.
Deconversion — the losing of one’s religious faith — brings with it all sorts of emotions. It’s not uncommon for Christians-turned-atheists/agnostics to feel a deep sense of loss. This is especially true for people who spent years in the Christian church. I spent almost fifty years in the Christian church. Twenty-five of those years were spent pastoring Evangelical churches. Christianity and the ministry were the sum of my existence. Yes, I had a beautiful wife and six wonderful children, but they were not as important to me as God and the work I believed he called me to do. My life was consumed day after day, week after week, year after year, with evangelizing the lost, preaching the Word of God, and ministering to the needs of congregants. I had a large network of ministry colleagues, and I was very close to my wife’s family, of whom three were Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) pastors, along with an evangelist and a missionary. From early morning to late at night, my life revolved around Jesus, the church, and the Bible. And then one day in November 2008, all of this was gone. Everything that gave my life purpose, meaning, and direction was gone. The men I counted as dear friends no longer spoke to me, and my wife’s family treated me as if I had some sort of dreaded disease. All I was left with, ironically, was all that really mattered: Polly, Jason, Nathan, Jaime, Bethany, Laura, Josiah and their spouses and children. It’s too bad that it took me much of my adult life to figure this out.
Ten years ago, I told family, friends, and former parishioners that I was no longer a Christian. For a time, I believed in the existence of some sort of deistic God, but over time I slid farther down the slippery slope of skepticism and reason until I realized that I was, in fact, an atheist (though technically I am an agnostic and an atheist). And once I realized I was an atheist, my next thought was, now what? (See Dear Family, Friends, and Former Parishioners, Dear Friend, and the series From Evangelicalism to Atheism.)
I remember many a sleepless night after I deconverted, my mind filled with fear, doubt, and sadness. I wondered, Bruce, what if you are wrong? What if the Christian God really does exist? Man, you are so going to burn in Hell. I worried about my wife’s increasing agnosticism, concerned that God would hold me accountable for her loss of faith if I was wrong. I often had thoughts about death and the meaning of life. Having lost all my social connections, I often wondered if I would ever have friends again. And so, for months, my thoughts focused on what I had lost, and not what I had gained. I conversed with several Evangelical-turned-atheist acquaintances, telling them about my restless thoughts. I was told, give it time. Things will, I promise, get better. And sure enough, they were right. As months turned into years, thoughts about God vanished, and in their place came thoughts of making the most of what years I had left. I lamented the fact that I had wasted most of my life chasing a phantasm, pursuing promises that would never be fulfilled. But lamenting that which I lost did nothing for the present. I had before me a wide-open path upon which to walk. No God stood in my way. Where I took my life post-Jesus was all up to me.
These days, the only time I have thoughts about God is when I am writing a post for this blog. God is now, for me, an academic exercise, as is the Bible. I know I have been given a great responsibility to be a help to people who are trying to extricate themselves from the pernicious vice-like grip of Evangelical Christianity. I have received countless emails over the years from people who need help freeing themselves from Evangelicalism. Sometimes, people are so ensnared that it is hard to see for them a clear path to faithlessness that doesn’t first cause great heartache. I have wept over emails detailing marriages that ended in divorce over a husband or wife sharing with their spouse their loss of faith, only to be told, if you ask me to choose between you and Jesus, I am going to choose Jesus. I have also wept over stories from people who were ostracized by their families over their atheism/agnosticism; sons and daughters who were told they were no longer welcome in their parents’ home or no longer invited to family holiday gatherings.
Walking away from Evangelicalism and embracing atheism/agnosticism can be costly. (See Count the Cost Before You Say I Am an Atheist.) Not only a must new atheist face social and familial fall-out from the deconversion, he or she must also wrestle with the implications of new-found beliefs. One such wrestling match is the loss of belief in the afterlife. The power of Christianity rests in its ability to convince people that everyone is a sinner, there is life after death, and the church is the sole salesman of the ticket required to gain entrance into Heaven. Remove the afterlife from the equation — threats of Hell and promises of Heaven — and Christian churches would empty out overnight.
My Dad died at the age of forty-nine. Mom killed herself at age fifty-four. My Dad’s parents died in the early 1960s. My Mom’s dad died in the early 2000s — good riddance, and my favorite grandmother died in 1995. I dearly miss my parents and my one grandmother. I so wish I could, at this juncture in my life, sit down with them and talk about life, past and present. But wishing doesn’t change the fact that they are dead and I will never see them again. Polly’s parents are in their eighties. Every time the phone rings, we wonder, is this someone calling to tell us Mom or Dad is dead? I have a younger brother and sister, neither of whom is in good health.
I have my own battles with chronic pain and illness. I know that most of my life is in the rear-view mirror. Over the weekend, I was setting up a new LED studio light in my upstairs photography studio. Polly was helping me. As I was working on the light, I decided to sit in my wheelchair. I started to sit down, only to have the wheelchair kick out from under me. I hit the floor, much to Polly’s horror, with a big thud. Fortunately, I didn’t break anything, but days later I am still dealing with the physical consequences of my fall. Polly and I both know that death could come at any moment. Until October of last year, Polly was a picture of good health. That picture quickly changed one morning when Polly woke me up, telling me that her heart was beating really fast. I checked her blood pressure, and sure enough her resting pulse rate was 180. Off to the emergency room we went. Polly was diagnosed with atrial fibrillation. If that wasn’t enough to deal with, three months later she developed a bleeding problem that required surgery.
In recent months, both of us have talked about losing the other, trying to imagine how life would be without the other one. We make jokes, of course, because that’s what Gerencsers do. It is though humor we embrace the reality that someday, be it tonight or twenty years from now, the ugly specter of death is going to come knocking at our door. As realists, we know that only in this life will we have each other. One day, our hearts will break as one of us says goodbye to the other. We know that we shall never see each other again; that the only things that will remain are the memories we have of one another.
So, to answer the question posed at the start of this post, yes, there are times I feel sad about the permanence of death. Who among us hasn’t had thoughts of what it will be like when the light of your life turns dark. Just the other day, I was thinking about death and how it brings an immediate cessation of life. I know, not a deep thought. But, it got me thinking about how much time I waste doing things that really don’t matter or have little value. If the battery in the clock of my life is slowly running out, what is it that I want to do with what life I have left? My death will certainly cause sadness for my family and friends, but if, while I am alive, I do all I can to love them and enter into their lives in meaningful ways, then perhaps their sadness will be lessened.
It’s impossible to escape sadness and heartache in this life. If atheism has taught me anything, it has taught me life can be harsh, cruel, and unfair. This site’s ABOUT page leaves readers with the following advice:
You have one life. There is no heaven or hell. There is no afterlife. You have one life, it’s yours, and what you do with it is what matters most. Love and forgive those who matter to you and ignore those who add nothing to your life. Life is too short to spend time trying to make nice with those who will never make nice with you. Determine who are the people in your life that matter and give your time and devotion to them. Live each and every day to its fullest. You never know when death might come calling. Don’t waste time trying to be a jack of all trades, master of none. Find one or two things you like to do and do them well. Too many people spend way too much time doing things they will never be good at.
Here’s the conclusion of the matter. It’s your life and you best get to living it. Someday, sooner than you think, it will be over. Don’t let your dying days be ones of regret over what might have been.
I hope I have, to some degree, answered the aforementioned question. If you are an atheist or an agnostic, how do you deal with thoughts about the finality of death, and the sadness that comes when thinking about never seeing your loved ones again? Please share your thoughts in the comment section.
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 61, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 40 years. He and his wife have six grown children and twelve grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist. For more information about Bruce, please read the About page.
Bruce is a local photography business owner, operating Defiance County Photo out of his home. If you live in Northwest Ohio and would like to hire Bruce, please email him.
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It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it. Life is long enough, and a sufficiently generous amount has been given to us for the highest achievements if it were all well invested. But when it is wasted in heedless luxury and spent on no good activity, we are forced at last by death’s final constraint to realize that it has passed away before we knew it was passing. So it is: we are not given a short life but we make it short, and we are not ill-supplied but wasteful of it… Life is long if you know how to use it.
You act like mortals in all that you fear, and like immortals in all that you desire.
There is nothing the busy man is less busied with than living.“The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs upon tomorrow and loses today… The whole future lies in uncertainty: live immediately.
People are frugal in guarding their personal property; but as soon as it comes to squandering time they are most wasteful of the one thing in which it is right to be stingy.
Even though you seize the day, it still will flee; therefore, you must vie with time’s swiftness in the speed of using it, and, as from a torrent that rushes by and will not always flow, you must drink quickly.
It is not that we have a short space of time, but that we waste much of it. Life is long enough, and it has been given in sufficiently generous measure to allow the accomplishment of the very greatest things if the whole of it is well invested.
The part of life we really live is small. For all the rest of existence is not life, but merely time.
This is the fifty-third installment in the Sacrilegious Humor series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a comedy bit that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please email me the name of the bit or a link to it.
