Recently, a woman by the name of Julie G. Workman came to this site and viewed the post, Donald Trump’s Bible. Afterward, she sent me the following email:
Poorly written by an atheist that while he acted the part of an evangelical in the past, knows nothing of the true evangelical heart. Just said a prayer for he and his family, as I can truly not bear the thought of any soul spending eternity in the lake of fire.
I responded thusly:
Julie,
I will let you know how your ceiling prayer works out. Countless Evangelical zealots have voiced similar prayers, all to no avail. Too bad you don’t respect other people. You ignored my request on the contact page, choosing instead to tell me I never was a Christian, that I was a deceiver for 25 years, and that I am headed for the Lake of Fire. A proper response would have been to comment on the post in question. Instead, you chose to attack me personally. Do you think your words reflect well on Jesus and your religion? That’s a rhetorical question.
Bruce Gerencser, a sinner saved by reason
Much like exhibitionists, Evangelicals such as Julie just can’t help themselves.
Bruce Gerencser, 68, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 47 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 Christian man by the name of Ward left a comment on the post Dear Jesus. Instead of answering him in the comment section, I thought I would turn his comment and my response into a post.
I feel sad for you Bruce . . .
Typically, when a Christian begins a comment with “I feel sad (sorry)” or makes some sort of psychological judgment, it is a sign that the commenter is here to evangelize, correct, or excoriate. Remember, thousands of Evangelical commenters have come before you, so you bear the weight of their collective assholery.
When I read this line, I thought, why should anyone feel sad or sorry for me? All things considered, I am quite happy. I have been married almost forty-two years, have six grown children, and thirteen wonderful children. Sure, life has its difficult moments, and recent years health-wise have been challenging not only for myself, but also for my wife. Yet, in every way, my life today is better than it was when I was a follower of Jesus.
Imagine if I started a conversation with you that intimated that I felt sorry for you because you were a Christian. How would you feel and respond?
[I feel] sad for the things you endured . . .
I realize that you are basing this judgment on reading the post Dear Jesus. Unfortunately, when people only read certain posts it is easy for them to come to wrong conclusions. Yes, from my childhood forward I have endured trial and adversity. However, all in all I had a happy childhood and ministerial career. (Please see Bruce, Were You Happy in the Ministry? Part One and Bruce, Were You Happy in the Ministry? Part Two.)
[I feel] sad for the path you chosen.
Why? If you had a blog, I would never leave a comment that said I felt sad (sorry) for you because you were a Christian. In the twelve years since I divorced Jesus, I have never left such a comment anywhere on the Internet or social media. Every person is on a journey. Each of us has a story to tell — Christian or atheist. I accept at face value that you profess to be a Christian. Who am I to question your story? Unfortunately, scores of Evangelicals have attempted to deconstruct my life. I have had blog posts written about me, and several preachers have even preached sermons that suggested I never was a “real” Christian. (Please see Gone but Not Forgotten: 22 Years Later San Antonio Calvinists Still Preaching Against Bruce Gerencser.)
I am one man with a story to tell. All that I ask of Christians is that they accept my story at face value and not fling theological epitaphs my way. Unfortunately, most Evangelical commenters don’t play well with others.
Your story of lost faith sounds as familiar as many others I’ve read such as Charles Templeton.
I am not sure how closely my life tracks with that of Charles Templeton, but I am one of many Evangelical preachers who are atheists or agnostics. Our number increases daily.
I understand and agree with many of your criticisms of the American evangelical movement and the professional church, but what I don’t understand is the decision to become an atheist.
You are certainly not the first Christian not to understand why I deconverted. Usually, a refusal to read my writing or an inability to square one’s theology keeps Evangelicals from truly understanding my story. Unable to make the square peg of my life fit in the round hole of their theology and experiences, many Evangelicals just dismiss my story out of hand by saying, “Bruce, you never were a real Christian.” Or worse, they say that I am still a Christian; that I am backslidden. How about letting me tell my story and accept it as told? Why is it so hard for Christians to accept that I once was a Christian and now I am not? “But Bruce, the BIBLE says ________.” Sorry, but it is not my problem if Evangelicals can’t square my storyline with their peculiar interpretation of the Bible. There’s no question that I once was a Christian, and I am sure as hell not a Christian now.
As others I’ve read it usually revolves around the theme of “If God is good why does he allow evil?”. I can see the move to the left in a way, though politically they are no better than the right, as there is a growing leftist “evangelical movement. You said you served God from a leftist perspective for a time and I see others who maintain a sense of fulfillment in that place without rejecting God. Is it just as simple as God allowed bad things to happen in your life?
There are many reasons people walk (run) away from Christianity. That’s why I point people to the WHY page — a collection of posts that explain why I am no longer a follower of Jesus.
If I had to pick one reason for why I am not a Christian it is this: I no longer believe that the central claims of Christianity are true. I came to a place in my life where these beliefs no longer made sense to me. (Please see The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.) I reject all the miraculous claims made for Jesus, from his virgin birth to his resurrection from the dead. I do believe Jesus was a real flesh-and-blood human being who lived on Palestine 2,000 years ago, However, as with all humans, he lived and died, end of story.
I want to conclude this post by responding in part to your response is Grammar Gramma.
Wow gramma you are exactly the type of person I would expect to encounter when engaging atheists, arrogant, rude, dismissive.
I hope what I have written above might cast some light on how your first comment might have been perceived by the atheists and agnostics who frequent this blog.
Why did you comment on this blog? If you believe that atheists are arrogant, rude, and dismissive, what’s the point of leaving a comment? While Grammar Gramma can speak for herself, I can confidently say that she is neither arrogant, rude, and dismissive. I suspect much like me and other unbelievers, she is weary of Christians who don’t invest the requisite time necessary to understand my story or who begin their comments with judgments or psychological analysis. Most atheists and agnostics I know are plum wore out by Christians who judge and criticize their lives instead of taking the time to truly understand their story.
I hope I have adequately answered your questions. If not, please let me know.
Bruce Gerencser, 68, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 47 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 receive all sorts of emails every day, everything from personal attacks to honest questions. Rarely does a week go by where I don’t receive an email that deeply affects me emotionally. Several days ago, I received one such email from a young Evangelical Bible college student. After reading and pondering his words , I thought his email would be a great subject for a blog post.
I have removed all personally identifiable information. People who email me in good faith can rest assured that I will always protect their privacy. Here’s what this young man had to say:
I am a Biblical Studies major in pursuit of becoming a pastor. Growing up, faith was all I had and everything that I held onto. Over the past year, I have learned things about the faith and the church that have left me confused and hurt. I am going into student debt to pursue this “calling” I feel in my life. Yet, this calling has slowly faded away and I am sitting here writing this, confused on what to do or where to go. I am scared to let go of my faith, although I am not sure why. It is hard for me to ignore hard facts and scientific explanations. They just make sense. I know you said you have 25 years of ministry, and my whole life has been built up for me to go into ministry as well. I am looking for answers, and I do not know who to turn to as all of my family and friends are believers, and I honestly do not feel comfortable coming to them. Please write me back any advice, book to read, or just honestly someone to share experiences with.
I want to applaud this man for being willing at such a young age to question his beliefs and seek out answers to his doubts and questions. I wish I had the courage this young man has back when I was a student at Midwestern Baptist College in the mid-1970s. Sadly, I was a true-blue believer, and with nary a question or doubt, I continued on a ministerial path that led me to pastorates in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. I was fifty years old before questions and doubts overwhelmed belief and I deconverted.
My objective in responding to this man is NOT to convert him to atheism. I have never been an evangelist for atheism, and I don’t intend to be one. My goal remains the same as always: to help people who have doubts and questions about Christianity or who have already deconverted. I see myself as a facilitator. To use a worn-out cliché, life really is a journey. Evangelicalism teaches — dare I say demands — believers to focus on the destination — Heaven or Hell, and not the journey. Life is little more than preparation for meeting and living with God in the life to come. I challenge people to see that life is all about the journey. Your destination is immaterial. Walk the path that is in front of you, following its course wherever it leads. In doing so, you will end up exactly where you need to be. My only regret is that I waited until I was in my forties before I realized this grand truth.
This man comes from a family who is devoted to Jesus. I can only imagine how painful his doubts and questions are as he thinks about how seeking answers might affect his relationship with his family. As many readers of this blog know firsthand, daring to step outside of the prescribed rut of Evangelical faith can lead to catastrophic consequences. Verbalizing such things can lead to estrangement and excommunication. That’s why I warn people in the post Count the Cost Before You Say I Am an Atheist to carefully consider confessing unbelief to Evangelical family and friends. Once you share your doubts and questions or admit you no longer believe, you no longer control what happens next. That’s why several commenters on this blog call themselves atheist Christians. Family (or economic) concerns prevent them from being out and proud. I would say to this young man: ponder carefully what you say or do going forward. Weigh the consequences carefully.
The email writer mentions having a “calling,” that he is attending an Evangelical college to pursue that calling. Evangelicals believe that men are “called” by God into the ministry. I wrote about that very subject two weeks ago in a post titled, I’m a Prophet, Preacher, or Evangelist Because I Say I Am. When you believe that God is “calling” you, it can be quite a struggle when you begin to doubt not only your call, but also your beliefs. I remember the struggles I had over trying to reconcile what I believed was a divine calling with my waning faith. In the end, my slide down the slippery slope of unbelief destroyed any notion of a divine calling. As an atheist and a humanist, I still have a sense of what I consider a “calling.” Not in a supernatural sense, of course, but I still feel drawn to helping others — Christian or not.
I am more than forty years older than this young man. I try to picture myself at the age of twenty-one sitting in my dorm room questioning my faith. This man is surrounded by people who appear resolute in their Christian beliefs, yet he has doubts and questions. Is there something wrong with him? Of course not, though Evangelical zealots will say that this man is being tempted by Satan, battling “secret” sin, or is not a True Christian®. Remember, questions and doubts are not really permitted in Evangelical circles. Oh, apologists will beg to differ, but the fact remains that doubts and questions are permissible only if they lead to Biblical answers. Straying outside of the safe confines of the Evangelical box is verboten, as is asking an ex-Evangelical-turned-atheist preacher for help. (Please 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.)
When doubting Evangelicals ask me for advice, I typically suggest that they read Dr. Bart Ehrman’s books. The reason I do so is because Ehrman, a professor of Religious Studies at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill and a leading authority on the New Testament and the history of early Christianity, is a former Evangelical. Ehrman began his ministerial training at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, and Wheaton College, in Wheaton, Illinois — both staunch Evangelical institutions. He finished his M.Div. and Ph.D. at Princeton Theological Seminary. Today, he is the author of numerous books on the history of the New Testament.
Evangelicals typically believe that the Bible is the inspired, inerrant, infallible Word of God. This belief is foundational to Evangelical faith, and that’s why I point doubters to Ehrman’s books. Written on a popular level, Ehrman’s books lay siege to and destroy the Evangelical notion that the Bible is in any way inerrant or infallible. Inspired? That’s a faith claim. Inerrancy and infallibility, on the other hand, are matters of facts and evidence.
I would suggest that this man read several of Ehrman’s books. Here’s a partial list of his works:
Ehrman recently released a book titled, Heaven and Hell: A History of the Afterlife. I am currently reading through this book. Fascinating, to say the least. I have concluded, so far, that there’s a lot I don’t know about Heaven or Hell from a historical or Biblical perspective.
I am confident that reading Ehrman’s books will disabuse all but the most stubborn of Evangelicals of their belief that the Bible is an inspired, inerrant, infallible text. While coming to an enlightened conclusion about the Bible does not necessarily lead to unbelief, it does render Evangelical dogma untenable. Once this happens, an Evangelical is ready to take a hard look at what it is he really believes. Once the Bible loses its power and authority over a believer, he is free to let facts and science determine the validity of religious beliefs. For me personally, skeptically and intellectually examining the core tenets of Christianity led me to conclude that these beliefs could not be rationally sustained. Your mileage may vary. Many ex-Evangelicals find ways to hang on to some sort of Christian faith. Any move away from the Fundamentalist tendencies of Evangelicalism is a good one. (Please see Are Evangelicals Fundamentalists?)
I hope this young man will continue to correspond with me. I sincerely wish nothing but the best for him, realizing that difficult days lie ahead for him if he continues to walk the path he is on. Unlike Evangelical family and friends, I am more than willing to help regardless of where his journey takes him. I have six grown children, all of whom were raised in Evangelical churches. Not only was I their father and prison warden, but I was also their pastor. After Polly and I left Christianity in 2008, I have watched as my children have struggled with matters of faith. Their respective journeys have taken them away from Evangelicalism, but not necessarily towards unbelief. The unbelief of their parents, especially their preacher father, gave them the freedom to wander; to seek knowledge and understanding outside of the narrow confines of Fundamentalism. I wish the same for this young man.
Bruce Gerencser, 68, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 47 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, an Evangelical Christian named David Solomon emailed me to let me know that Jeremiah Johnson is a false prophet and I need to return to Jesus. Solomon said he read my post about Jesus. I assume he means he either read Dear Jesus or Why I Hate Jesus.
Here’s what he said:
Jeremiah Johnson is a false prophet and up to no good. You, on the other hand, need to return to Jesus. He will always love you. Not religion, but Jesus Himself. American Christianity has serious problems, there is a reckoning coming. But Jesus is real. Return.
I have written a couple of posts about the Evangelical prophet and pastor Jeremiah Johnson. (Please see Prophet Jeremiah Johnson: Dr. Tony Fauci is a Rat Who Must be Silenced and Holy Spirit Tells Jeremiah Johnson That Donald Trump is the Trumpet of God.) Johnson claims to be an Evangelical Christian, and he claims that he has some sort of inside connection with God. Scores of Christians hang on his every word, especially when he speaks approvingly of the Evangelical demigod, Donald Trump. Solomon believes that Johnson is a “false” prophet; as if there were any such thing as a “true” prophet. Solomon also alleges that Johnson is up to “no good” — whatever that means. Any cursory examination of Evangelicalism reveals that there’s plenty of “no good” going on these days. In 2016, eighty-two percent of voting white Evangelicals voted for Donald Trump. Rational people know that Trump definitely falls under the “no good” category. His non-stop masturbatory press conferences about the Coronavirus Pandemic should be sufficient evidence for any of us to conclude that the President is a liar, a narcissist, a petty schoolyard bully who lacks basic human empathy. Yet, his approval rating continues to improve, and countless Evangelicals believe the pussy-grabber-in-chief is a Christian.
We need to only look at Evangelical behavior during the present pandemic to see more examples of “no good.” Most pastors have wisely closed their churches out of concern for their congregants and fellow human beings. Yet, a small percentage of churches refuse to close their doors and continue to hold services. Whether due to a stubborn commitment to peculiar interpretations of the Bible or anti-government rhetoric, these so-call men of God willingly and happily put at risk the health of church members and their communities at large. Almost without exception, the pastors who refuse to close their doors are Evangelical. Again, “no good.”
Evangelicals have also seized the opportunity provided by the Coronavirus pandemic to continue to wage the culture war. From the closing of abortion clinics to the enactment of anti-transgender laws, Evangelical politicians have continued their assault on progressive social progress. Again, and again, and again, “no good.”
I am left to wonder about what exactly “no good” Solomon thinks Johnson is up to. Maybe he can stop by and let us know, and in doing so explain how Johnson’s “no good” is any different from his “no good” or that of other Evangelicals. The very theological and social foundation of Evangelicalism fits squarely under the “no good” category.
Solomon, also wants me to know that I need to return to Jesus. He doesn’t tell me why I should return to the dead Jesus, just that the fossilized bones buried somewhere in Palestine “love” me. Surely, Solomon knows that atheists don’t believe in the existence of gods, and that Jesus was all man and no God. At best, Jesus was an itinerant Jewish rabbi who spent three years traveling the dusty roads of Judea, preaching his version of Judaism. He was considered a rabble-rouser and got himself killed for his efforts. All told, most of Jesus’ closest followers abandoned him, including his own family. Based on the book of Acts, we can conclude that three years of preaching and teaching netted him a couple of hundred followers. Not a success story, to say the least.
Telling me that Jesus loves me is akin to someone telling me a distant, forgotten, long-since-dead relative loves me (and has a wonderful plan for my life). Sorry, but such acclamations of love don’t do much for me.
There was a time when I loved Jesus just as David Solomon loves him today. I thought the love we had for one another was real; every bit as real as the love between my wife and me. In 2008, I came to the conclusion that the relationship I had with Jesus wasn’t real; that the “love” I felt was a fabrication of my mind; a product of a lifetime of Evangelical indoctrination. (For more information about my journey from Evangelicalism to atheism, please check out the WHY? page.)
Solomon implores me to return to Jesus, not religion. Solomon believes, of course, that he loves and is a follower of the “real” Jesus. Solomon has no religion — just Jesus. Let me take a few moments to disabuse Solomon of the nonsensical notion that he has no religion — just Jesus. This argument is used by Evangelicals who don’t like what they see within the Christian tent. Instead of trying to reform Christianity, Evangelicals such as Solomon pitch their pup tents outside of Evangelicalism proper. The problem with this position is that Jesus is the product of religion. It is religion that gave us Jesus, and later gave us the Bible. Solomon’s argument is as absurd as one where people worship Jesus but reject the Bible. Without the Bible — a product of religion — there would be no Jesus, no Christianity. No religion = no Bible = no Jesus. This is a historical fact. Believe what you will, but Christianity is a religion, and anyone saying he is a Christian — a worshiper of Jesus — is a card-carrying member of a religion. One may reject denominationalism, but there’s no way to jettison the Christian religion in general without losing Jesus in the process.
Solomon began his email by telling me that Jeremiah Johnson was a false prophet. He concluded his email by becoming a prophet himself. Solomon states with arrogant certainty, “Jesus is real.” What evidence for his prophetic claim does Solomon provide? None. He assumes facts that aren’t in evidence. How could Solomon possibly know Jesus is real? Two possible reasons that I know of: the testimony of the Bible, or personal experience. The latter is subjective to its core, so I can reject it out of hand. Telling me that you “know” Jesus is real because he saved you, lives inside of you, or talks to you is sheer nonsense. How could I possibly know whether these things are true?
Appealing to the Bible, of course, has its own set of problems. Solomon wants to distance himself from Christianity as a religion, yet he is forced to justify his claims by and through a written text produced, authorized, and controlled by Christianity. I am more than happy to talk to Solomon about the Bible and the claim that it is a divinely inspired, inerrant, infallible book. I am confident that I can show Solomon that the Bible is NOT what Evangelicals claim it is, and that its teachings are rife with problems, errors, and contradictions (besides being built on a false narrative).
I have spent the past twelve years writing about Evangelical Christianity. Over that time, countless Evangelical zealots and apologists have commented on this blog, left comments on social media, or sent me emails. To the person, they believe that their Jesus is the “real” Jesus. To the person, they believe their interpretation of the Bible is the right one. To the person, they believe their version of Christianity is one true faith. How, then, can unbelievers possibly know which Jesus is “real,” which interpretation of the Bible is correct, and which flavor of Christianity is the right one? Here a Jesus, there a Jesus, everywhere a Jesus.
I concluded long ago that all Evangelicals have fashioned a Jesus in their own image, interpreting the Bible in ways that best fit their sociological, cultural, and tribal perspective. Simply put, Jesus is whoever you want him to be. There is no singular Jesus, no “right” interpretation. Solomon wants me to believe that his version of Jesus is the right one; that if I will accept his Jesus as the way, truth, and life, that I too can troll the Internet looking for atheist blogs to comment on. To that I say, no thanks.
Bruce Gerencser, 68, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 47 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.
Freshman class, Midwestern Baptist College, Pontiac, Michigan 1976. Polly is in the first row, the first person from the left. I am in the third row, the eighth person from the left.
From time to time, I will receive an email from a former college acquaintance. I have yet to receive a letter from someone saying that they, too, lost their faith. As far as I know, I am the only out-and-proud atheist who attended Midwestern Baptist College. I am sure there are others, but I don’t know about them. Maybe they are closet atheists who must remain so due to their ongoing connection with Christianity through their families or other social connections. Or, perhaps, they don’t see the value in publicly outing themselves as atheists. If I gave a complete report of all I had to experience and endure since deconverting, closeted atheists would say, “See, look at Bruce Gerencser. Why would I subject myself to such abuse? No thanks!” This would especially be true for those who attended/graduated from Midwestern.
Midwestern, an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) institution, had zero tolerance for deviance from the truths once to delivered allegedly by God to the late Tom Malone, the chancellor of the college and the pastor of the now-defunct Emmanuel Baptist Church. College administrators, professors, and dorm supervisors were expected to enforce the letter of the law, both doctrinally and practically. Violating these inviolable norms was considered a capital crime, resulting in expulsion from Midwestern. Fearing such an ignoble outcome, most students, at the very least, outwardly obeyed. I suspect being educated in such an environment leads to people being hesitant to oppose and reject religious and social norms — at least externally.
We know, however, that Christians can and do change over time, even if changes in theology and practice are not publicly expressed. What develops, then, is cognitive dissonance — the attempt to hold onto to competing truths/beliefs/ideas. None of us is exempt from cognitive dissonance. All we can do is skeptically, logically, and rationally examine our beliefs — our truth — and determine whether they deserve our continued support. But even then it is hard for Evangelicals, in particular, to publicly abandon previously held beliefs. The personal, social, communal, and economic costs for Evangelicals willing to talk out loud about their questions, doubts, or even loss of faith are often so severe that many people cannot bear the weight of that burden. This is especially so for clergymen.
In my case, in particular, I came from a sect that granted no quarter to dissenters. The anger and outrage over my deconversion continue to fuel attacks, almost twelve years later. I grossly underestimated how friends, family members, congregants, and ministerial colleagues would respond upon hearing of my divorce from Jesus. (Please read Dear Family, Friends, and Former Parishioners.) That’s why I later wrote the post, Count the Cost Before You Say I am an Atheist. I have written the above to say that I understand why other former Midwestern students, pastors, evangelists, missionaries, and pastors’ wives who have left the “one true faith” or may now be atheists keep their heresy and apostasy to themselves. However, personally, I have never been one to keep things to myself. That’s not just me. I don’t judge others who are not so inclined. I just wish I were granted the same courtesy. As readers shall see from the email I received below, some Evangelicals wish I would just shut up and move on.
This Midwestern graduate attended the college at the same time as Polly and I did. I believe he was a year or two ahead of us, married by the time we arrived at Midwestern in the Fall of 1976. My primary interaction with him was through college societies, social events, and religious activities. We were acquaintances, but not friends. With that background in mind, let me take a stab at responding to Roger’s questions.
I get it. Things went bad for you, the “lines didn’t fall out in pleasant places” for you. I can’t even imagine what you have been through based on some of your writings.
Roger does not give any context here, so I am not sure what he means when he says things went bad for me. All in all, I have pleasant and happy memories from my time at Midwestern and the twenty-five years I spent in the ministry. The same could be said for growing up in a dysfunctional home. Yes, lots of shit happened — bad stuff no child should ever have to experience — but on balance I had a pleasant upbringing. Certainly moving all the time, my mom’s repeated suicide attempts, poverty, and other stressors affected me psychologically. All of us are sum of our experiences. While I would not wish my past life on anyone else, I can say that some of the things I experienced made me a better person; things that fuel my passion as a writer to this day.
As a pastor, I met thousands of people. Many of them were kind, decent, loving people, and others still were Grade A assholes I wouldn’t give the time of day to if I came in contact with them to this day. That’s life, right? The difference between now and then is that as a pastor I felt duty-bound to love everyone unconditionally. As an atheist, no such compulsion drives me. I no longer willingly subject myself to be misused, abused, and used by people. Want to be my friend? Be a decent human being. If not, fuck off.
I have had my own struggles, most of which in my case were my fault. I am divorced and re-married, not in vocational ministry. I have been through church disciple, accountability, and restoration. In my case I have to blame the guy in the mirror.
Roger shares with me a bit of his own past experiences, some of which I have heard about via the Midwestern grapevine. I didn’t know Roger that well, so I made no judgment about what I had heard. I remember being disappointed over the failure of his marriage, but, again, since I really didn’t know him or his wife very well, I refrained from making a judgment.
One thing I have learned as an atheist is that it is probably best to not make hard and fast judgments about the marriages and families of others. “How well do we know anyone, even our spouses?” I remind myself. How can I, from the outside, render judgment on Roger’s past, his failed marriage, and his remarriage. I briefly looked at his Facebook profile. He “seemed” happy, devoted to his family. Over the past four weeks, I have been contacted by two former congregants, a former friend, and now, with Roger, a former collegemate. All but one of them took a negative tack with me, hoping that I might see the light and return to Christianity. (Please see Dear Greg.) The former friend who didn’t told me to call him sometime, so I am sure he is waiting for the right time to bring up my defection from Christianity. (And if not, he would be the first person not to do so.)
As with Roger, I looked up the Facebook profiles of the people who contacted me. Everyone, again, “seemed” happy, and since I only know them from a distance, I am content to accept their social media presentations as accurate description of their lives. It doesn’t really matter, does it? We are never going to become friends again. Our common bond rests in our shared past history. Since I know it is impossible for Evangelicals to accept me as I am, attempting to re-connect with them is a waste of time.
Roger didn’t email me because he wanted to reconnect with an old school buddy. We were never close to start with. If Wendell Uhl, Bill Duttry, Mike Lavery, Tim Rettger, Mark Bullock, or Bill Kuiper — all dormmates, friends, of mine — emailed me and said, “Hey Bruce, I’m traveling through your part of Ohio and I would sure love to share lunch with you and Polly” I would probably say yes. We have shared intimate history. I don’t have that kind of history with Roger.
Instead, Roger has a passive-aggressive point to make: that his life was a mess too, and most of it was his fault. Translation: Bruce, your life was/is a mess, and it’s your fault. If only I would own my past culpability and mistakes, I could then be set free from the path I am on. I am not sure how much of my blog Roger has actually read, but I think I can safely say that I have done a pretty good job at owning my past. What bothers many of the people who knew me as a pastor, friend, collegemate, or colleague in the ministry is that I am willing to publicly talk about these things. As you will see in a moment, Roger wants me to shut up and move on. Admit my culpability and turn the page.
So here is my sincere question. If you are a humanist, and dedicated to bettering the human race we all live in, why the disparaging remarks about churches, pastors, ministries, etc? Why not let it go and move onto positive things. As you have documented there are some real jerks and insincere people in ministry. Some not so, but I get it.
Part of bettering the human race is exposing how certain expressions of religious faith cause psychological harm, and can, in some instances, cause physical harm. The IFB church movement is a cult. And quite frankly, so is much of Evangelical Christianity. Am I not helping people by exposing these religions and their promoters for who and what they are? Wouldn’t people be better off if they were free from the pernicious mind-numbing hold of Fundamentalist preachers and churches? Countless Evangelical/IFB pastors and congregants have been helped by my writing. I know this because they write to tell me how much my work has meant to them. It is surely a good day when someone reads my writing and decides to walk away from Christian Fundamentalism. My goal has never been to be an evangelist for atheism. If something I write helps people move on to kinder, gentler, more inclusive expression of faith, mission accomplished.
Sadly, Roger’s email reflects a common belief among Evangelicals. Sure, pastors, churches, and ministries do bad things at times, but why point those things out? Move on, and let God sort things out. Here’s the thing: there is no God, so it is impossible for him to sort things out. Thus, it is left up to us, the only gods who walk on the face of earth, to do the sorting. As long as Evangelical churches, pastors, and institutions harm others, I intend I speak out.
Why not let all the garbage go and work at improving life for those in your sphere?
What Roger calls garbage, I call harm that pastors, evangelists, missionaries, churches, and colleges cause those who come under their care. Vile things have been done in the name of the Evangelical God and the “cause” of Christ. How can anyone stay silent and move on? The waiting rooms of psychiatrists, psychologists, and counselors are filled with patients materially damaged, harmed, and scarred by Fundamentalist religious ideology. Every year, people kill themselves over the harm done to them by so-called “men of God.” Am I not improving the lives of such people if I am willing to openly and honestly talk about my IFB upbringing and the twenty-five years I spent pastoring Evangelical churches? Believe me, thousands of readers appreciate the fact I understand where they are coming from. My writing validates their own experiences. And therein lies the problem. I am not someone who can be easily dismissed. First, I refuse to go away. Second, I know Evangelical Christianity in general, and the IFB church movement specifically, inside and outside. “I know,” as the mob hitman would say, “where the bodies are buried.” Third, most of the time, I enjoy my work. Doesn’t pay well, but sure has wonderful benefits — helping free people from religious bondage.
That said, writing for this blog is a small part of my life. I have a wife, six grown children, and thirteen grandchildren. Yes, thirteen. Our newest grandson, Silas, was born two weeks ago. That’s likely it for us. Time to move on to the great-grandchildren phase of life. As long-time readers know, I am a family guy. I wasn’t always this way. It took losing my faith to learn what really mattered to me. It is family that gives my life breath to breathe and reason to get up in the morning and painfully face another day. Sure, writing is important to me, but I’d never write another word if forced to choose between this blog and family. Spring and summer will soon arrive, and I plan on spending as much time as I can going to my grandkids’ ballgames, attending sporting events with my sons, enjoying family picnics, wining and dining my girlfriend, and taking road trips — all with camera in hand.
Roger ends his email by saying, “I hope you have a good day. I am genuinely sorry about your health issues. I have good memories of our time at MBC.” I indeed hope I have a good day, and I wish the same for Roger and his family. I appreciate his sympathy for my health problems. I too, have fond memories of Midwestern Baptist College, many of which I have shared on the pages of this blog. The difference between us is that I am willing to honestly and openly talk about the not-so-fond memories; the dark, harmful memories I have too. I want the telling of my life to be one of truth, all of it, and not just the parts that cast me (or others) in a favorable light. I leave it to others to judge the sum of my life.
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 62, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 41 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.
Thank you for reading this post. Please share your thoughts in the comment section. If you are a first-time commenter, please read the commenting policy before wowing readers with your words. All first-time comments are moderated. If you would like to contact Bruce directly, please use the contact form to do so.
Donations are always appreciated. Donations on a monthly basis can be made through Patreon. One-time donations can be made through PayPal.
What follows is a record of several emails I traded with Greg, a former church member at Somerset Baptist Church in Mt. Perry, Ohio, over the past three years. I was Greg’s pastor for several years. He was quite active in our church, teaching Sunday school, going out on visitation, and occasionally filling the pulpit. As you will note from the emails, Greg and I had some social interaction outside of the church. There is lots to this story, but for Greg’s sake and that of his wife and children, I will just stick to responding to his latest email to me.
Some spelling and grammar corrected.
In March 2017, Greg wrote:
Dear Bruce,
Yesterday I was reading some about Jack Hyles and saw an article (s) by you and have done some reading by you.
I hear you have had some bad health. Hope your health is improving and hope your family is doing well. I imagine if you and I went and played basketball, we better play half-court, and slow tempo. And with my arthritis, I don’t move too well.
Nowadays, my best game is chess, which I play on the internet, against people from all over the world.
I had to have colon cancer surgery back in June 2013. I am doing well now and take Essiac now that I know about it. It has healed many people of cancer.
Planning on going to Athens tomorrow to see some regional basketball games.
Well, It was good to hear from you.
Well in closing, take care and tell your family I say hello.
Your Friend,
Greg ******
In April 2017, I responded:
Good to hear from you. Boy, it has been a long time, hasn’t it? You have gotten old. ? I turn 60 in June. It’s been 23 years since I pastored the Somerset church, almost 34 years since we started the church. Time marches on.
Sorry to hear you had cancer, but I am glad you have recovered. Getting old is not what it is cracked up to be. My health struggles are many, but I try to live each day to its fullest. I know I will die sooner, and not later, so I need to do what I can while I am still among the living.
Our family is doing well. Polly and I will soon celebrate our 39th wedding anniversary. Our six children live within 20 minutes of our home. We have 11 grandchildren — 10 girls, one boy. Polly works for Sauder Woodworking. She is a manager there, as is Jason.
Nice to hear you are still going to tournament games. I attended several district and regional games this year. My oldest granddaughter plays on the Stryker High School JV team (volleyball too). I have a cousin who plays for nearby Swanton High School. I got to see a lot of girls’ basketball games this year. Several grandchildren are playing baseball/softball this summer, so I will be busy attending games.
Write when you can. I would love to hear more about how things are with you. If you are on Facebook, I would love to connect with you there. Just send me a friend request.
Have a great week.
Bruce
In August 2018, Greg wrote:
Dear Bruce,
How are you and Polly and the children doing? Fine, I hope.
How has your health been?
What are your children doing nowadays and do they live near you?
My wife ****** is doing ok, she has some trouble with diabetes, and has to put up with me. ( That’s a challenge)
My oldest daughter ****** is 27 now. She is living in Greenville Ohio, and working at the Whirlpool plant there. She makes decent money there and lives with some guy there, who is like 6’9″ or so. Man if I could have had that height when I use to play basketball.
Now my favorite sport to play is chess, on the internet.
My youngest daughter ***** is 25 and is still single, and living at Cambridge. She does home health care.
Back in February this year, after living going on eighteen years, near New Concord, ***** and I had to move because of our landlord selling the property.
We now live in a senior apartment in Cambridge, which we like. There are some benefits to being old.
I don’t know for sure if you cheer for any specific professional team, but I have seen you with Bengals apparel on. Have you or are you a Browns fan? With that new quarterback that WE have from Oklahoma, we are ready for great things NOW, AS IN NOW.
Bruce, you are, and will always be my friend. Yes nowadays there would be a lot of differences we would have, but you are still my friend and always will be. Even if you don’t like the Cowboys and Yankees.
In closing, I just have one church, not Bible question for you. Where can a man that is KJV, post-tribulational, amillennial, non-eternal torment believer, non-Calvinistic, who wants to preach, and is married to a lady who was married once before find a church that would let him preach, and where he would be in one accord?
And that man would be me. And in all of my searching, talking about trying to find a needle in a haystack, even if you could locate the haystack.
May you and your family have a wonderful rest of the year.
Your FRIEND,
Greg ****
In October 2018, I responded:
Hey Greg,
It was a delight to hear from you. Thank you for updating me on the coming and goings of you and your family.
Our six children all live within 20 minutes of our home. We have twelve grandchildren — ages three months to seventeen. We see them often. Now that the NFL season is in full swing, some of the boys are here almost every Sunday to watch the Bengals with me. Polly cooks a nice meal and we sit around and yell at the TV.
Browns fans, eternal sufferers to be sure. Nice to see them win a couple of games. I think Mayfield is the man for them going forward.
Health-wise, things remain the same for me. I am slowly losing functionality and strength. I do what I can, but I have resigned myself to the fact that I can no longer do many of the things I once did with ease. Fortunately, my children are quite helpful. Polly was in the hospital twice this year: once for a heart problem and once for a bleeding problem. We are getting old, falling apart. That said, we celebrated forty years of marriage this year, and next week we will celebrate Polly’s sixtieth birthday (I am two years older than she).
I hope you will keep in touch. If you have some family photos, I would love to see them.
Have a good weekend.
Bruce
Up to this point, you will likely have noticed that Greg considers me a friend, and that he, much like he did when I was his pastor, has exacting theological beliefs. You will also note that I did not respond to his theologically oriented questions. I am no longer his pastor, and neither am I a Christian. When contacted by people from my ministerial past, I make sure they understand that I am quite happy to correspond with them and even renew our friendship, but I am not interested in arguing with them about theology or atheism. Over the course of the twenty-five years I spent in the ministry, I had a handful of relationships that transcended the pastor-congregant connection. Greg was one such person. At the time, I considered him a friend, even though he left the church several times over a doctrinal differences with me. In particular, Greg objected to my Calvinism.
After my response to Greg in October 2018, I did not hear from him again until yesterday:
Dear Bruce, in the past after hearing about how you left the ministry, etc., I never responded with preaching or anything like that.
I just wrote to you as a friend, which I still am.
But after reading some more, let me talk some.
I don’t know if you will listen, seeing it seems like you want to talk, but maybe not listen to anything you don’t want to hear.
I guess you always win when you don’t let the other team have the ball.
Does that mean that you are the player and REFEREE?
It is easy to say that God loves Tim Tebow more than a Ethiopian when your a Calvinist or Robot (no difference).
Tell me, did John Calvin make you one of the non-elect. Or were you with Job, trying to give God advice during the creation?
Tell me, if you don’t believe that Jesus exists, why do you hate Him?
But The Lord Jesus does exist, and you will now your knee to Him.
WOW, just imagine if you are wrong?
AND YOU ARE!!
How shall we escape, if we neglect, so great salvation?
Dear Greg,
Having not heard from you for almost seventeen months, I was surprised to receive an email from you. I was even more surprised (and saddened) to see that you decided in this email to take an adversarial, preachy, judgmental approach to me. What changed? Couldn’t we just be friends, revel in our past experiences, and share the things we have in common — family, sports, and memories from southeast Ohio? Instead, you decided to be Greg, the Fundamentalist Baptist preacher. What did you hope to accomplish by taking this approach with me? You say you still consider me a friend, but I find little friendliness in your words.
You mention reading more of my blog, but as I looked at the site server logs, I found that you only read two posts: Why I Hate Jesus and Dear Evangelical. Let me suggest it might be helpful for your understanding of my journey to read the posts listed on the WHY? page. Instead of looking for and focusing on doctrinal deviancy, try to enter into my story, and hopefully this will help you understand why I am an atheist today. I don’t expect you to join the ranks of the godless, but at the very least I expect you to make a good faith effort to understand my past and present life (as I have understood yours through our conversations and counseling sessions).
I have been blogging for over twelve years now. On this iteration of my blog, I have written over 3,600 posts. If you are willing to do your homework, you will likely find most, if not all, of your questions answered somewhere in my writing. It’s not that I don’t want to hear what people have to say, but when it comes to Evangelicals (and I know you may object to me calling you an Evangelical) such as yourself, I have heard the same stuff over, and over, and over again. No new evidence; no new arguments; same shit, new day. And it is for this reason, I wrote the Dear Evangelical post. Ask yourself, did you say anything in your email to me that I likely haven’t heard countless times before? Why would I need to hear it yet again?
I originally responded to you because I hoped we could have some semblance of a friendship outside of our differences about God, Jesus, and the Bible. Silly me, to think that an Evangelical can set his dogma aside for the sake of maintaining or nurturing a friendship. For people such as yourself to be friends with me, they must be willing to let me go to Hell in peace. They must agree not to preach at me or attempt to sneak apologetical arguments into discussions. And I will do the same. I am quite happy to set aside my atheism and humanist beliefs and, instead, focus on the things we have in common. Sadly, I have yet to have a former congregant, friend, or colleague in the ministry do that. Eventually, they always bring things back around to the BLOOD, the BOOK, and the BLESSED HOPE.
As an atheist, Greg, I have no truck with arguments from the Bible. Threats, imprecations, passive-aggressive attacks — none of them are effective in reaching me. Consider me, from your theological perspective, an apostate or reprobate. I don’t think the Christian God exists, and that includes Jesus. I do believe that Jesus, the man, lived and died 2,000 years ago, but Jesus, the son of God, the miracle-worker, the savior of the world (or the elect)? That God-man does not exist. So telling me that I am WRONG and one day I WILL bow my knee to Jesus has no effect on me. Surely, you are aware of how much I know about Christianity and the Bible. Do you really think that bald assertions typed in caps will somehow magically change my mind? You know me better than that, Greg. Not going to happen . . .
If your intent is to continue to preach to me and attempt to evangelize me, please don’t. I am more than willing to continue to be friends with you, sans religion. If you can keep Jesus out of the relationship, I am confident we can find plenty of things to share and talk about. If not, let this be our last correspondence. Let’s bury our relationship here, letting the good times we spent together cover our gravestones.
Sincerely,
Bruce
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 62, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 41 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.
Are you on Social Media? Follow Bruce on Facebook and Twitter.
Thank you for reading this post. Please share your thoughts in the comment section. If you are a first-time commenter, please read the commenting policy before wowing readers with your words. All first-time comments are moderated. If you would like to contact Bruce directly, please use the contact form to do so.
Donations are always appreciated. Donations on a monthly basis can be made through Patreon. One-time donations can be made through PayPal.
An Evangelical man by the name of Stephen left the following comment on a post titled, Christopher Hitchens is in Hell. It’s the only post Stephen read, so I assume he was searching for a writer who told the “truth” about Hitchens’ eternal destiny. I am sure he was disappointed to find out that I, too, am an atheist. Rather than approve Stephen’s comment, I thought I would turn it into a post. My comments are indented and italicized. All grammar in the original.
Hitchens is short for hell’s kitchen
I just love it when a Christian zealot starts his screed with an attempt to be humorous or cute. Sorry, Stephen — epic fail! That said, I do suppose that Christopher Hitchens would enjoy hanging out in Hell’s Kitchen. I hear the food is awesome.
…and he [Hitchens] put himself there out of sheer desire too since he could not be honest and man enough to admit he just hates God and the concept of Him, just like all atheists do
Evangelicals believe that Hitchens died in his sins and is currently residing in Hell — a place where the Christian God tortures non-Christians for eternity. Hitch didn’t have much good to say about Christianity. My God, he even eviscerated Mother Theresa in his book, The Missionary Position: Mother Teresa in Theory and Practice.
“As an anti-theist, he regarded all religions as false, harmful, and authoritarian. He argued in favour of free expression and scientific discovery, and that it was superior to religion as an ethical code of conduct for human civilization. He also advocated for the separation of church and state. The dictum “What can be asserted without evidence can be dismissed without evidence” has become known as Hitchens’s razor.”
It’s not enough for Stephen to attack Hitchens’ atheistic beliefs. Stephen goes after his character, saying Hichens is not man enough, not honest enough to admit that the real issue he has with Christianity is that he hates God.
Atheists hate God. Where oh where have I heard that before. *sigh* Instead of thinking about why someone might not believe in the existence of deities, Stephen says ALL atheists hate God. Note that he doesn’t say, atheists hate all deities. For Stephen there is one true God, his, and it is that God Hitchens and all atheists hate.
I wonder if Stephen hates Allah, Buddha, or the plethora of other deities humans worship? I doubt it. He would likely say that hating such deities would be stupid. “Who hates imaginary beings?” Exactly, Stephen. Atheists don’t hate your God any more than they do any of other Gods in the panoply of deities. It’s silly to hate imaginary beings, and that’s why most atheists do not hate God — whatever name he may go by. Now, asking if atheists hate Evangelicalism, Christianity, or other organized religions is another question altogether. Many atheists hate religion in general. However, many atheists do not hate religion as a social, cultural, tribal construct. What they do hate are the harmful behaviors committed in the name of this or that God. As a humanist, my concern is with the effect of religious faith and not religion itself. Many atheists agree with this sentiment.
Of course, Stephen will likely reject what I have written here, saying that atheists, deep in their heart of hearts, hate God. No matter what atheists say to the contrary, for the Stephens of the world, atheists hate God.
– imagine up as many logical fallacies you can think of to justify themselves…the human heart is desperately sick, who can understand it?…,
I am not sure what to make of what Stephen says here. He says “the human heart is desperately sick, who can understand it?” This is a loose rendering of Jeremiah 17:9: The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?
Evangelicals believe humans, by nature, have been ruined by the Fall; that everyone is born into this world a sinner; that without the salvation offered through the merit and work of Jesus, all of us will spend eternity in Hell (Lake of Fire). As a Christian, Stephen believes he has a golden ticket. His heavenly reservation is secure. When Stephen dies, he will live on in Heaven with Jesus and his fellow Christians. I wonder if the food in Heaven’s Kitchen is better than that in Hell? I doubt it.
Perhaps Stephen might enlighten readers as to what these “many logical fallacies” are. Most atheists value rationalism, skepticism, and intellectual inquiry. Our goal is to construct a logical, consistent worldview. Evangelicals, on the other hand, are required to follow a God-ordained, Bible-based worldview, regardless of whether it squares with science or history. No Christian comes out a winner when arguing worldviews with an atheist/humanist. There’s too much craziness in the Bible for an Evangelical to hold a logical, consistent view of the world. Viewing the world through Bible-colored glasses will always lead to a warped, anti-human viewpoint.
Most unbelievers as atheists themselves might even forget that at one time they had to have chosen to and that must have been out if a high magnitude of shear ignorance if they knew what they were missing..it’s like refusing to believe Gravity exists then jumping of the Empire State building to prove it but never being able to because at the time you find out you were wrong you’re dead.
Most unbelievers (non-Christians) are not atheists. This is a common misconception. Unbelief is not the same as atheism. Most unbelievers are indifferent towards religion or know nothing about it. An atheist is someone who has made a positive affirmation of his denial of the existence of deities. While an argument can be made for all humans being born atheist, it’s preferable, at least from my perspective, to limit the term “atheist” to those who intellectually, rationally deny the existence of gods.
Stephen says that atheists are ignorant. How else can one explain all that atheists give up by not being Christians? Here’s the thing: eternity in Heaven does not sound that attractive to me. What will Evangelicals be doing in Heaven for all eternity? The inspired, inerrant, infallible Word of God gives us a good idea. The triune God expects Heaven’s inhabitants to spend their days in worship and praise. Imagine how sore your back will get prostrating yourself before Jesus day and night! Compare what’s going on in Heaven to the atmosphere in Hell. Party Time! Sure, Hell will be a bit warm for my liking, but I sure prefer Hitchens and his crowd to Stephen’s group. Who in their right mind wants to spend eternity in church? No thanks!
Stephen tries to use a variation of Pascal’s Wager to warn atheists of the danger of unbelief. As usual, its use is an epic fail. I would ask Stephen, have you applied Pascal’s Wager to all other deities? Surely, that’s the prudent thing to do right? Stephen can deny Allah exists, but when he jumps off the proverbial Empire State Building, he will quickly know — albeit too late — that Allah exists. The only safe thing for Stephen to do is to believe in every God, covering all of his bases. Better safe than sorry, right? “No, no, no,” Stephen says, “there is only one true God — mine!” And there goes Pascal’s Wager up in smoke.
one thing we know, there’s no atheists in hell.
Finally, Stephen says something I agree with. There are no atheists in Hell! Of course, Stephen means something different when he says this. He means every atheist in Hell is now a believer; that burning in Hell f-o-r-e-v-e-r will teach those awful atheists the TRUTH about God. Regardless, the reason there are no atheists in Hell is this: There is no Hell, no Heaven, no afterlife, and no God. Atheists aren’t worried in the least about going to Hell. Hell, with its eternal punishment, is a religious construct cooked up by clerics and theologians to keep congregants in line and keep money flowing into church coffers. Remove the fear of Hell and judgment from the equation and most people will trade sitting on hard pews for sleeping in on Sunday mornings. The salvation game only works when humans are viewed as broken and in need of fixing — or as Stephen said, “desperately sick.” Once humans figure out the concepts of sin, salvation, and eternal life are myths, the game is over.
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 62, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 41 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.
Are you on Social Media? Follow Bruce on Facebook and Twitter.
Thank you for reading this post. Please share your thoughts in the comment section. If you are a first-time commenter, please read the commenting policy before wowing readers with your words. All first-time comments are moderated. If you would like to contact Bruce directly, please use the contact form to do so.
Donations are always appreciated. Donations on a monthly basis can be made through Patreon. One-time donations can be made through PayPal.
Several months ago, an Evangelical man named Will contacted me on Facebook, saying he wanted to “understand” my story. I told Will to email me, and I would respond when I had time to do so. (I’m currently weeks behind in answering email.)
Will became impatient and contacted me again on Facebook. I told him I would get to his email soon. Evidently, he was clueless to the fact that my wife was off work for two months, in the hospital for almost three weeks, and had major abdominal surgery. Either that — as you shall read in a moment — or he didn’t care. My eternal destiny was at stake, fuck Polly’s temporary physical problems. The risk of me burning in Hell is of far greater importance to the Wills of the world than anything that might happen to me or my loved ones in this life.
Tonight, Will had enough of me ignoring him. So, he contacted me AGAIN on Facebook. What follows is our discussion. Enjoy!
Will: Bruce, your salvation is what’s important the most.
Bruce: I don’t need to be saved from anything except Christians who think they need to evangelize me! I am a kind, decent human being, with a wonderful wife, children, and grandchildren! I have everything I need!
What did you hope to accomplish by sending me this?
P.S. Now I know why you wanted me to email you! No thanks!
Will: I want you to re-examine your reasons for leaving the faith. I want you to return to the love that you abandoned, Christ.
Bruce: Dude, I did that — 2006-2008. End of story. I have zero interest in your God or religion. If you have read my writing, you KNOW this.
So, unless you want to talk football, we’re done here.
Will: I’ve read your writing, and I understand that you have left the faith. What I didn’t know is that leaving it has caused you to do a 180 in the area of kindness and reason, which are traits that can be consistent with both Christians and non-Christians. I will end this, I hope and pray that you will see the truth in your lifetime. Blessings.
Bruce: Let me see if I understand you: if I refuse your underhanded attempt to evangelize me, I’m unkind and lacking reason. Since I rebuffed your attempts to engage in a fruitless conversation about Jesus, salvation, etc., I’m the problem, right?
Or maybe, just maybe, you don’t respect me as a person, nor do you respect personal boundaries. If you have really read my writing, you know my story and where I am in life. You think that evangelizing me is the most important thing you can do for me; as if you can possibly tell me something I don’t know, haven’t preached, or heard countless times from Christian zealots.
If me telling you “no thanks” is being unkind, so be it. If me refusing to let you attempt to evangelize me is unreasonable, so be it.
Will, I have seen the “truth” in my lifetime, and that’s why I left Christianity and became an atheist.
Will: Bruce, any rational being should be open to a discussion of this magnitude, where their eternal residence hangs in the balance. If I can’t help you, maybe you can help me. What is truth?
Bruce: You didn’t “listen” to a word I said, Will. There’s no magnitude of anything. Unless you have evidence for the existence of heaven, hell, or life after death, there’s nothing of “eternal” nature to discuss.
Will: Bruce, we are past that. I only asked you one simple question. What is truth?
Bruce: Dude, we aren’t past anything. You think you have a fish on the hook, when in fact all you’ve snagged is a log.
And with that, I say “enough.” My steak has arrived [We were eating at Texas Roadhouse].
Will: You read like the people who you talked about in your article, rather than convert them, they converted you. ?
Bruce: Believe what you will.
Will: Now that’s truth and you know it!! Instead of the Preacher helping to convert the atheists, the table gets turned and the atheists convert the Preacher. Had to be a false preacher.
Bruce: Believe what you will.
Will: The facts are what I believe and you have demonstrated the facts by your actions.
Bruce: Believe what you will.
Will: You are running away from the truth.
Bruce: Believe what you will.
Will: I believe that there is still hope for you.
Bruce: Believe what you will.
Here’s the money quote: “The facts are what I believe.” Classic Evangelical arrogance. Will has the truth, and the sooner I accept that and prostrate myself before his peculiar version of Christianity, the better.
What think ye, dear readers? Did I show myself to be unkind and unreasonable?
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 62, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 41 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.
Are you on Social Media? Follow Bruce on Facebook and Twitter.
Thank you for reading this post. Please share your thoughts in the comment section. If you are a first-time commenter, please read the commenting policy before wowing readers with your words. All first-time comments are moderated. If you would like to contact Bruce directly, please use the contact form to do so.
Donations are always appreciated. Donations on a monthly basis can be made through Patreon. One-time donations can be made through PayPal.
in 2019, An Evangelical Christian who called himself Leslie sent me the following:
I ran across your profile and found it to be interesting.
Interesting enough to be complete bullshit. You are a bitter man full of hate because you are mad a God for not coming through. Oh yeah any idiot that decides to comment on Jennifer Leclaire’s “Smelling in the spirit class” and asking if the Holy Spirit farts must be empty headed. You know you are wrong and scared to death you will die in your sin. Stop taking people to hell with you. You are responsible for the lives of these people listening to your bullshit. I hope and pray this website gets shut down.
Time to start a betting pool: Will Leslie’s God hear his prayer and shut down The Life and Times of Bruce Gerencser? My money is on the bullshit keeps flowing. Countless Evangelicals have begged God to put an end to my blasphemy. Yet, here I am still spewing bullshit and leading people to Hell. Maybe, just maybe, these prayers go unanswered because — drumroll, please, there is no God.
Bruce Gerencser, 68, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 47 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
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Warning! Buckets of snark ahead. You have been warned.
Kizzy, the wife of an Oklahoma-based Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) evangelist, recently did a Bing web search on “sexual sin” and “Bob Gray” former pastor of Longview Baptist Temple in Longview, Texas. Kizzy’s search brought her to this website. All told, she read three posts: IFB Pastor Bob Gray, Sr. Shows His True Colors, Dear Evangelicals, and Why I Hate Jesus. Afterward, she sent me this:
I love you and so does God!! Even if you stay angry at God and at all of those that have hurt you, God is still real and He will always love us even when we are unlovable. I know how it feels to be hurt, and disappointed by others. God allows those hurts in our lives so that we can grow in love and grace. Please know that God has been with you all the way through all of the hurt, disappointments, and sorrows.
What follows is my response to her email. My responses follow her emboldened, italicized sentences.
I love you and so does God!!
Double exclamation point love, wow!!!!!!! I wonder if Kizzy knows that I am happily married and very much in love with my wife. A female stranger expressing her love for me? Well, that’s just creepy. Of course, Kizzy means nothing by her affirmation of love for me. You see, that’s what Evangelicals do. They rage against LGBTQ people, same-sex marriage, illegals, and the like, and then smile big and wide as they say, “I love you.” This kind of love is about as genuine as a prostitute saying “I love you” to her john. Sorry, but there’s no sincerity in the statement. In Kizzy’s case, she wants to have a love threesome — Kizzy, Bruce, and most importantly GOD.
Kizzy is certain that God loves me. However, unlike her, I have actually read and studied the Bible, and the Christian God certainly does not love reprobate apostates such as myself. Perhaps Kizzy had some other God in mind? Nah, she’s speaking for her version of the Christian God. That’s right, she’s speaking FOR God. By saying to me that her God loves me, she is speaking on his behalf. Which begs the question, then, why doesn’t God speak to me himself? If Kizzy’s God is the creator of the universe and the giver of all life, why doesn’t he tell me himself that he loves me and has a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious plan for my life? Instead, Evangelical zealots are always the ones delivering messages from God, and these messages never say the same thing. This leads me to conclude that God is either schizophrenic or these messages from God come, not from the Evangelical deity, but the Bible-sotted minds of Christian zealots.
Even if you stay angry at God and at all of those that have hurt you, God is still real and He will always love us even when we are unlovable.
I suspect that Kizzy thinks I am “angry” at her God based on reading the Why I Hate Jesus post. Sadly, many Fundamentalists are unable to understand rhetoric or nuance. Thus, Kizzy — a literalist — thinks that when I say, “I hate Jesus,” I really do hate the flesh and blood Jesus who lived and died 2,000 years ago. I make it clear in the post that I do NOT hate THAT Jesus, but Evangelicals invariably miss that. The Jesus I hate is the political/social/theological Jesus — a religious construct used by Evangelicals to advance an anti-human, theocratic agenda.
Kizzy, as countless zealots before her, dons her Dr. Freud hat and makes a drive-by psychoanalysis of me and my past/present life. I am generally not a person who hangs on to anger. That doesn’t mean I never get angry, I do. However, my anger quickly rises, explodes, and dissipates. My wife and I have been married for forty-one years. We have had more “fights” than I can count. However, our arguments rarely, if ever, carry over beyond the moment. As things stand tonight, I am not angry at anyone, and that includes Kizzy’s God. Yes, people have hurt me, including my wife, children, friends, and former colleagues and congregants. I am not one, however, who sits on past hurts, brooding over what someone did to me. I choose to forgive and write — not out of anger, but because I have a story to tell; a story that many people find helpful, and a story I hope will one day help my grandchildren better understand their deceased grandfather.
And besides, it’s downright silly to say to atheists that they hate or are angry at God. Atheists don’t believe in the existence of deities — Kizzy’s included — so saying that I am angry at God is akin to saying that I am angry with any other fictional character. It would be like me asking Kizzy if she hated or was angry with Allah, Buddah, or Shiva. “Of course not,” Kizzy would say. “They are not real!” And so it is for me and Kizzy’s God. He is not real.
Kizzy goes on to assert that no matter how “angry” I am at her God and those who “hurt” me, God is still real. How can she possibly know that her God is real? What evidence does she have for such a claim; evidence that would convince a skeptic, a doubter, an agnostic, or an atheist? You see, Kizzy’s “evidence” likely rests on two things: the Bible and personal testimony. However, I remain unconvinced. If, as Kizzy asserts, her God is real, it’s time for him to reveal himself. Billions of people don’t believe in Kizzy’s God. Why is that? Are we the problem? Or maybe, just maybe, a lack of evidence is the problem. Maybe, just maybe, the Bible is the problem. Maybe, just maybe, the way professing Christians live their lives and treat non-believers is the problem. At the very least, Kizzy’s God has a PR problem, one that is getting worse by the day.
I know how it feels to be hurt, and disappointed by others. God allows those hurts in our lives so that we can grow in love and grace. Please know that God has been with you all the way through all of the hurt, disappointments, and sorrows.
I have no doubt Kizzy is trying to make an emotional connection with me. She errantly and thoughtlessly believes my unbelief is due to some sort of hurt I suffered as a Christian, so she thinks by empathizing with me I might be more inclined to “hear” what she has to say. However, I am almost twice Kizzy’s age and have spent the past decade interacting with Evangelicals who have tried to make emotional connections with me. Some of them try the friendship approach, while others, such as Kizzy, try the “I feel your pain” approach. Since Kizzy doesn’t know me, how can she “feel” my pain? And the same can be said for me. I don’t know Kizzy, so I am not in a position to either empathize or sympathize with whatever she might have experienced in her life. Now, Kizzy had an opportunity to get to know me better by reading my writing, but she couldn’t be bothered. Instead, she read .00088915234414345 percent of my posts and then rendered judgment. I guess when you have the inspired, inerrant, infallible King James Bible and the Holy Ghost living inside of you, you can escape the normal ways humans get to know each other. I would be more inclined to listen to what my interlocutors have to say if they, at the very least, made a good faith effort to understand my story. However, they never do so, choosing instead to be the equivalent of a random drive-by shooting on a Chicago street. Kizzy fired away, certain that the Holy Ghost was feeding her ammunition. Unfortunately, for Kizzy, all she shot were blanks.
Kizzy says that “God allows those hurts in our lives so that we can grow in love and grace.” Again, she assumes “hurts” not in evidence, but worse yet, she attempts to use what I call the “abusive Father” argument. God says he loves us, yet he uses pain, suffering, and loss to prove it. He is akin to the husband who repeatedly beats his wife, saying I love you, I love you, I love you, as he does. Sorry, but if God really loves us and wants what’s best for us, he might want to choose a different tack. As things stand now, the Bible God, the God Kizzy loves and worships, is a mean, vindictive son-of-a-bitch who uses hurt and violence to get his way. If the Evangelical God was a human being, why he would likely be serving a life sentence in prison for countless acts of violence against his fellow humans.
I do wonder if Kizzy has really thought about this God of hers — a God who allows women to be raped so they can grow in love and grace; a God who allows children to be sexually abused by preachers so they can see the glories of his master plan; a God who allows countless children and their mothers to slowly die from thirst and malnutrition; a God who stood by and did nothing as 6,000,000 of his “chosen” people were killed in German concentration camps; a God who has endless record of negligence towards the least of these. Sorry, but from my atheist seat in the pew, this God is worthy of nothing but ridicule and derision.
Finally, Kizzy wants me to know that her God has been with me “all the way.” Again, how does she know this? All she is doing here is what Evangelicals do best: projecting her beliefs and personal experiences on others. My journey through life tells me a far different story: that the only people who have been with me “all the way” live in houses of clay. One of the reasons for me divorcing Jesus is that I concluded that he was about as real as Elwood P. Dowd’s pooka named Harvey.
Jesus and I had a wonderful relationship from the time I was saved at age fifteen until I was fifty. Jesus was with me every step of the way. We “talked” to each other every day. I could “feel” his presence in my life. And most of all, I devoted my life to Jesus, believing that he was my “soulmate,” a friend who stuck close beside me no matter what happened in my life. For the longest time, Jesus was the sum of my life, a God-man for whom I was willing to die.
But at the age of fifty, I woke up and realized that the risen Jesus was nothing more than a figment of my imagination; that the Jesus I had devoted my life to lies buried somewhere on a Palestinian hillside; that the Jesus I had sacrificed my health and family for was as real as Dowd’s pooka. I had a choice to make: either keep on “faithing” it, or admit that I had built my life on a fiction. I chose the latter. Had Kizzy bothered to read the posts listed on the WHY page, she would have learned about the intellectual and emotional travail and pain I went through to arrive where I am today. She would have learned, most of all, that choosing to walk away from the ministry and Christianity was the hardest thing I have ever done. And maybe, just maybe, she would have thought twice about sending me such a trite, thoughtless, cliché-laden email. Instead, she did what 6,666,666 Evangelicals before her have done, proving yet again that Christian zealots really don’t give a shit about people; that all that matters to them is putting in a good word for Jesus.
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 62, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 41 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.
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