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Tag: Independent Fundamentalist Baptist

Spend Time With Those You Love While You Can

barbara gerencser 1978
Mom and Bruce, Rochester, Indiana, 1978

The redheaded preacher stood before his church, preparing to preach as he had done countless times before. This Sunday was just like every other Sunday — until it wasn’t. His expositional sermon was well-received by the fifty or so people in attendance. Most of them would return a few hours later for Sunday evening service; another opportunity to hear from God and fellowship with God’s people.

The preacher, along with his wife and five children, lived in a 12’x60′ mobile home that sat on the southern edge of the church parking lot. His wife had already walked from the church to their home so she could prepare dinner, wondering, “Will he invite someone to dinner?” She never knew who would be eating dinner with them. Her preacher husband loved to fellowship with church members. She just wished he would plan in advance.

On this particular Sunday, there were no extras for dinner. As the preacher’s wife set the table, the phone rang. It was the preacher’s aunt. “Just a minute, I’ll get him.” By then, the preacher was almost to their home. “Your aunt is on the phone.”

“Hmm,” the preacher wondered, “why is she calling me?”

“Hello.”

“Butch.” (a family nickname given at birth).

“Your mom killed herself.”

The preacher’s mom lived in Quincy, Michigan — five or so hours away. His mom has taken a Ruger .357 revolver, cocked the hammer, and pulled the trigger — shooting herself in her heart. She quickly slumped to the bathroom floor, and in a few moments, she was dead.

The preacher’s mom’s lifelong battle with mental illness came to an end. Numerous suicide attempts had come before this one: prescription drug overdoses, slit wrists, and driving a car into the path of a truck. (Please see Barbara.) Her prior attempts failed, but not the last one. Why she chose to kill herself on this fateful day remains unknown. Decades of physical and psychological pain certainly played a big part, but the preacher wondered if there was more to her sudden suicide. He would never know, of course, because the woman who taught him to read, instilled in him a passion for truth, and modeled to him standing up for yourself, was dead. The moment she pulled the trigger everything changed.

The preacher planned his mom’s funeral. No viewing, no dealing with countless well-wishers and glad-handers. His siblings viewed their mom’s corpse, but the preacher chose not to. He wanted to remember her as she was — a beautiful, passionate, complicated, contradictory woman.

On the appointed day, the family gathered at Fountain Grove Cemetery for the graveside service. The preacher’s mom had written in her Bible that she wanted her preacher son — whom she had never heard preach — to take care of her funeral. She also wanted her grandchildren to say the Pledge of Allegiance and sing the Star Spangled Banner. These requests were ignored.

Family and a few friends gathered at the graveside, right next to Grandma and Grandpa Rausch’s graves. There was not enough room to bury the preacher’s mom, so his grandmother was disinterred so the vault could be dug deep enough to accommodate two coffins, one on top of the other.

“Why did Mom want me to do her funeral?” the preacher wondered. The preacher delivered a brief sermon, complete with Bible readings and prayer — weeping the entire time. A moment after the benediction, there was one more indignity to be had. The preacher’s Fundamentalist Baptist grandfather (John) and his wife (Ann) were in attendance, and John wanted to have the last word. (Please see Life with My Fundamentalist Baptist Grandparents, John and Ann Tieken.) As everyone stood there with broken hearts, John decided to give a sermon of his own. Of course, he did. Whatever his grandson did was never good enough. A few years prior, John and Ann had driven to southeast Ohio to visit their oldest grandson and his family. These visits were never welcome, and a few years later, the preacher ended his relationship with John and Ann. On this particular day, the preacher delivered a sermon to 150 or so people in attendance. At the conclusion of the service, the preacher’s grandfather stood up and told the entire congregation what was wrong with his grandson’s sermon. The preacher wanted to die; that is, right after he murdered his grandfather.

As the preacher’s grandfather deconstructed his daughter’s life at the graveside, homicidal thoughts briefly returned to the preacher’s mind. He wanted to tell everyone who would listen that John had repeatedly raped his daughter as a child; that he physically abused his sons (and spouses); that he was an angry, abusive man — even after Jesus allegedly “saved” him. John and Ann may have loved Jesus, but they most certainly didn’t love their daughter. “Maybe they were broken too,” the preacher wonders. Regardless, these sums-a-bitches are responsible for their behavior, as are all of us.

Death irreversibly ends relationships. All we have left are memories — good, bad, and indifferent. The preacher deeply loved his mom, but rarely took time to express that to her. On the day of her suicide, it had been months since to talked to her and saw her face to face. There were plans in the works for the preacher to take his children to Michigan to spend a week with their grandmother. Alas, a bullet put an end to that idea.

The preacher was a busy man. He had a church to pastor and a school to operate. Yet, none of that mattered as he pondered the life of his mom and their relationship with each other. He wished he had been a better son. He wished he had visited his mom more often. He wished he had called her every week to see how she was doing. But, he didn’t, and now she was dead.

The preacher is now sixty-six years old. In failing health, he knows his days are numbered. His children and grandchildren live near him. Rarely does a week or two go by that he doesn’t see most of them. Yet, there are those nights when he sits alone, wishing one of his children would stop by for a visit. The preacher can no longer drive, so he must rely on people coming to him or taking him to school events. He hates depending on others.

He knows his children and their significant others and his grandchildren have their own lives to live too. Everyone is busy these days, yet he can’t help but think about that moment over thirty years ago when the phone rang and the voice on the line said “Butch, your mom killed herself.” He knows there is coming a day when the phone will ring at his children’s homes, and the voice on the line will say, “Your dad (grandfather) is dead.” He knows what hearing those words can to do you, the regrets that flood your mind.

When the end comes, the preacher knows that his family will be there for him — not for money (there is none); not for material goods (most everything has already been given to them); but for love. In the present, all he wants (and needs) is as much time from them as they can possibly give. Not selfishly, of course, but he knows there is coming a day when the relationship the preacher has with his family will come to an end; that all that will be left are memories. The preacher wants to leave behind as many good memories as he possibly can.

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.

You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

Letter to the Editor: Christian Nationalism

letter to the editor

Letter submitted to the editor of the Defiance Crescent-News.

Dear Editor,

Christian nationalism is the result of an unholy union between Evangelicalism and Republican politics. I pastored my first Evangelical church in the late 1970s. I didn’t know of one preacher who publicly supported Christian nationalism. Preachers taught congregants that there was a strict separation of church and state. As a Baptist pastor, I believed that church and state were two separate God-ordained spheres; and that neither should encroach upon the other.

By the early 1980s, thanks to Jerry Falwell and Paul Wyrich of Moral Majority fame, I began hearing talk of “taking America back for God.” Not any God, of course, but the Evangelical God of the Bible. What was birthed four decades ago has now turned into a full-grown predator, out to capture America for Jesus. There’s no king but Jesus, Evangelicals are fond of saying. What was uttered in an eschatological context is now expected — dare I say demanded — in the present.

Freedom of religion has now come to mean freedom for conservative Christians and submission to their interpretation of the Bible by all others. Never mind the fact that the United States is a secular state. Never mind the fact that the U.S. Constitution does not mention God, and the Declaration of Independence refers to, at best, a generic, deistic God. Christian nationalists want and demand that Americans prostrate themselves before their deity and submit to the teachings of the Bible. Well, the teachings that fit their peculiar theological and political narrative, anyway.

Christian nationalists demand preferential treatment for their religion. Christian nationalists demand teacher-led prayer and Bible reading in public schools, the posting of the Ten Commandments on classroom walls, and the banishment of library books for the positive portrayal of same-sex couples or daring to mention the existence of LGBTQ people. Showing that the word “White” should modify the term Christian nationalists, these soldiers for Jesus demand the removal from history books of any negative portrayal of Whites. In their minds, slavery was just a jobs training program.

Through the front doors of schools have come Evangelical groups such as Lifewise Academy. Their goal is to indoctrinate and evangelize school children. It is clear that Christian dominion is the goal. And if that fails? Civil war, of which the January 6 insurrection was a precursor of things to come if Christian nationalists don’t get their way.

Bruce Gerencser
Ney, Ohio

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.

You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

How to Have a Successful Marriage

cindy and jack schaap 30 years of marriage

It is common for Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) preachers and their wives to reach certain milestones in their lives such as longevity of marriage or ministry and then feel “led” by God to write a book about why they were successful.

Jack Schaap took over the helm of First Baptist Church in Hammond, Indiana after the death of IFB luminary Jack Hyles. Schaap’s wife Cindy — the author of the above book — is Hyles’ daughter. In this book, Cindy reveals how and why the Schaaps had a successful marriage. Three years after the book’s publication, Jack Schaap was arrested for taking a minor across state lines to have sex with her. Schaap pleaded guilty and was sentenced to twelve years in federal prison. He was released in May 2022. Cindy divorced Jack, wrote a book titled My Journey to Grace: What I Learned about Jesus in the Dark, and based on available public information is still an Evangelical Christian today. Jack Schaap also wrote a book about marriage titled Marriage: The Divine Intimacy.

Biographical or autobiographical books written by IFB preachers and their wives are almost always an admixture of “ain’t Jesus wonderful?” and fiction. The goal is to give God all the glory and present sanitized, PG-rated tellings of their lives in general, and their marriages in particular. Reality is often far different from what is portrayed in their books.

One Sunday evening in the late 1970s, Polly and I visited Trinity Baptist Church in Findlay, Ohio — an IFB church I attended for forty months as a teenager. After church, the pastor and his wife invited us to their home for refreshments. I had always thought that the pastor and his wife were wonderful people. They had always presented themselves in public as devoted followers of Jesus; a happily married couple. I learned that this was a facade, that things were not as they seemed. Over the next twenty-five years, I would interact with scores of preachers and their wives, learning that there was a big difference between perception and reality; that preachers were not as put-together as they seemed; that their marriages were every bit as challenging, and troubled, as those of the people who looked up to them and called them “pastor.” In other words, they were normal, everyday people, prone to the same frailties as the unwashed masses. The difference, of course, is that these preachers and their wives hid their frailties behind put-together public personas. Spend enough time in the ministry and you learn to play the game.

Polly and I were experts at playing the game. We knew congregants expected us to be winners — victory in Jesus! Church members expected us to have a perfect marriage and well-behaved children. And we gave them exactly what they wanted (needed). However, once in the privacy of our home or automobile, the “real” Bruce and Polly Gerencser came out. There are no deep, dark secrets to be revealed, but both Polly and I were certainly “human.” We had a lot of rough times, especially early in our marriage. After the birth of our second child, Polly gave all of her attention to our two children. In response, I started working sixty-plus hours a week as a general manager for Arthur Treacher’s. Three years into our marriage, we had become busily distant. For a time, both of us wondered if our marriage would survive.

It took us almost thirty years to recognize that we had our priorities wrong; and that putting God/Jesus/Bible/Ministry/Church first was a bad idea. We reprioritized our lives, putting our family and our marriage first. Unfortunately, by the time we were enlightened, our three oldest sons were already adults. While both Polly and I will testify that our marriage is 98.9 percent awesome today, we recognize that there were points in life where we could have destroyed our marriage. Fortunately, we survived and are confident that we will embrace and survive (unless it kills us) what comes our way.

Polly and I have known each other for forty-seven years. Polly was seventeen and I was nineteen when we first met at Midwestern Baptist College. Two years later, we married. By all accounts, we have a “successful” marriage — whatever the hell “successful” means. Over the years, I have had readers ask me to share with them the keys to a successful marriage. Surely, Bruce and Polly Gerencser know what it takes to have a successful marriage, right?

Here’s the truth of the matter: We are lucky that our marriage has lasted forty-five years. Yes, we are committed to one another. Yes, we deeply love one another. Yes, we have built a wonderful life together. Yet, I know couples who had all of these things, but ended up separated or divorced. Married life is a crap shoot. So many variables, so many unknowns. Have you ever played the woulda, coulda, shoulda game? What if I (we) did B instead of A? Would our lives have been different? Maybe, but not necessarily better. I can’t know for sure, so all I know to do is live in the moment, making the best decisions possible on any given day.

Let me conclude this post by giving several pieces of advice; things helped Polly and I as a married couple.

First, don’t let the sun go down on your wrath. Polly and I have fought a time or two over the years. We have had some doozies, often over nothing. Sometimes, we would go to our separate corners for part of a day, but we never sent the other to the couch for the night. We determined to seek forgiveness and make things right between us, never forsaking our shared bed because we were mad.

Second, not only love your spouse but “like” them. Our love was never in question, but it took us years to “like” one another. Now we are best friends. We genuinely enjoy one another’s company.

Third, have your own space; one that is yours alone. Polly and I spend a lot of time together, yet we also have carved out time and space for ourselves, to do the things we want and like to do. Polly and I have completely different reading habits. I read non-fiction, and Polly reads fiction. I used to give Polly a hard time over her book choices, but then I realized she has a right to read whatever she wants. While I may still make a snarky comment now and again over this or that novel Polly is reading, she doesn’t need my approval. And that goes for everything, by the way. As Fundamentalist Christians, we had a patriarchal marriage. I was the final answer to every question — as God ordained. Deconverting forced us to rethink how we wanted our marriage to work. While patriarchal thinking still lurks in the shadows — old habits die hard — we have chosen an egalitarian path; a relationship where each of us has our own space.

Finally, don’t be afraid to turn a critical eye towards your marriage. While most people marry with the intention that their marriages will last “until death do us part,” many marriages fail. Does this mean that these couples were failures? Of course not. Polly and I were naive Independent Baptists with no real-world experience when we married. We had no idea what a “good” marriage looked like. Neither of us would say that what our parents modeled to us was a “good” marriage, especially in my case. My parents divorced when I was fourteen, and remarried several months later. Mom married her first cousin, a recent Texas prison parolee. Dad married a nineteen-year-old girl with a baby; the trophy presenter at the local dirt track. Mom would go on to marry two more times. All I knew was trauma and dysfunction. All Polly knew was emotional distance and secrets. Her parents never argued in public; and never modeled to her how to have a good and happy marriage. We came into marriage ignorant about everything from sex to money. We truly made it up as we went. Fortunately, we kinda, maybe, possibly — hell if I know! — figured it out. Coming to this place required an honest accounting by both of us of not only our personal lives but also of our marital relationship.

Polly and I were lucky that our marriage survived. Many people realize that they married the wrong person or that they are not well-suited. Life is too short to spend it married to the wrong person. Better to get out of the marriage sooner than spending decades persevering, hoping things will change. Sometimes, readers in problem marriages tell me that they wish they had a “successful” marriage like Polly and me. I am quick to deflect, knowing that our success isn’t formulaic; that luck and circumstance had (have) a lot more to do with our success than following certain rules or principles.

For you who have been married for a long time, do you think you have a “successful” marriage? How do you define “success?” What advice would give to a young couple considering marriage? Please share your thoughts in the comment section.

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.

You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

Short Stories: Charlotte and Bruce, a Summer Romance

carl and pat brandenburg

In the fall of 1970, Dad moved us from Deshler, Ohio — a small rural community in northwest Ohio — to a moderate-sized city of 35,000 residents called Findlay. Findlay is home to Marathon Oil and a large Whirlpool plant. I lived in Findlay in eighth grade, ninth grade, and half of the tenth grade (moved to Arizona), and then returned for my eleventh-grade year. All told, I lived in Findlay forty months.

As good Independent Fundamentalist Baptists (IFB), Dad and Mom looked for a church to attend. Our first stop was Calvary Baptist Church. We didn’t stay long. My parents thought Calvary was too uptown; too upper class, for their liking. Our next stop was Trinity Baptist Church, a fast-growing congregation affiliated with the Baptist Bible Fellowship in Springfield, Illinois.

Trinity was definitely our kind of people — poor, working class, with a few rich folks sprinkled in. Wall-to-wall Sunday attendances were common. Trinity had a large bus ministry that brought hundreds of riders to church every week, as well as a large youth group — one hundred or so students from seventh to twelfth grade.

The summer of 1971 brought Uncle Carl and Aunt Pat Brandenburg to Trinity to hold a five-day Super Summer Bible Rally (SSBR). Hailing out of the Troy Baptist Temple, the Brandenburgs held youth-oriented events for IFB churches. The SSBR held at Trinity gathered all the children into the auditorium (500 kids one night) for ninety minutes of entertainment with a Jesus flavor, and a call to salvation at the end of the night.

While I don’t remember much about the program, I do remember Carl and Pat’s daughter, Charlotte. Both of us were fifteen. While I had been interested in girls for a while, I had never had a serious girlfriend. I hung out with my girl friends, but they were not my girlfriends. Charlotte would soon change that for me.

After the first night of the SSBR, Charlotte and I struck up a conversation, and it was not long before our conversation moved from “acquaintance” to “I like you” to by the end of the week good old-fashioned IFB “puppy love.” For the following four days, I would walk a few blocks to the motel where the Brandenburgs were staying, pick up Charlotte, and we would walk to Riverside Park. There we would walk along the river and sit on the banks of the Blanchard River. Mutual infatuation to be sure, but it seemed “real” to both of us.

charlotte brandenburg

Alas, Friday night came and went, and then it was time for Charlotte to return to Troy. We vowed to keep in touch with one another, and so we did with letters and phone calls. While Charlotte and I held hands and put our arms around each other, we didn’t kiss. Doing so was a crime in IFB circles. Kissing leads to premarital sex . . . need I say more?

In September, I talked my youth director into taking a busload of teens to Troy Baptist Temple to view the movie, A Thief in the Night. Of course, Charlotte would be in attendance too. We sat together, holding hands the whole time. “Was this the making of something special?” I wondered at the time.

After the movie, Charlotte and I were lingering near the church bus, lamenting my soon departure. I really, really, really wanted to kiss her. My youth director, Bruce Turner, told me it was time to get on the bus, and then he looked at the both of us as he turned away and said, “get it over with.” And so we did. A quick kiss and a promise to keep the flame burning.

Alas, absence does not make the heart grow founder, proximity does. By Christmas, both of us had moved on to other people.

I would remain a casual dater until I had my first real adult romance at age eighteen with a woman named Anita. (Please see 1975: Anita, My First Love.) We talked marriage, but our relationship did not last. After Anita, I swore off dating for a while, focusing instead on work, friends, and my 1970 Nova SS. It would not be until the fall of 1976 that I was ready to play the field again. Little did I know the field only had one woman, a beautiful, dark-haired girl named Polly. Two years later we married.

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.

You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

Short Stories: Go Get in the Car, I’ll be Right Out

beater station wagon
$200 beater. Polly HATED this car.

My wife, Polly, and I are the parents of six children — four boys and two girls. We have two distinct families: our three oldest sons, then our two daughters and youngest son. There are almost nine years between these “families” of ours. Their experiences as the children of Bruce and Polly Gerencser, an ordained Baptist pastor and his wife, vary greatly.

Polly and our oldest three sons often went with me when I visited church families. I visited every family in the church at least once a year. I wanted them to get to know me personally, away from the church and pulpit.

I love to talk. I used to apologize for this trait, but I no longer do so. Being talkative is who I am. I am not boorish, only talking about myself. When visiting with congregants, I was interested in hearing about their families, their needs, and their spiritual struggles. Sometimes, I would spend an hour or two with church members, depending on what they want to talk about.

Much like an airplane circling an airport, getting ready to land, I would eventually know it was time to leave. Polly and the boys said to themselves countless times, “Finally. We can go home.” Several minutes later, I uttered the words my dear children hated hearing from me: “Go get in the car, and I will be right out!” Inwardly they groaned, knowing that the airplane wasn’t ready to land; that Dad wouldn’t make it to the car for another fifteen minutes.

You see, I like to talk. I genuinely enjoy conversing with people. As I would get up to leave, all of a sudden a question or comment would stop me in my tracks, and a “forever” (according to the way my children kept time) later I was still talking.

Being a part of a strict patriarchal family, neither Polly nor our sons objected to being left in the car. Today, I suspect my sons would say “I ain’t going anywhere until you get in the car,” and Polly would likely say, “Hey, Bud, I’m not getting in the car until you do.” Such protestations would have been impossible when we had a “Biblical” family, but today I hope they would demand I respect their time.

While Polly and I, along with our oldest sons, reminiscence about the good old days when I said ” Go get in the car, and I will be right out” we all laugh, but I can’t help but think in my heart that I wish I had never walked out of countless doors without Polly and our boys in hand.  I wish I had shown them more respect and less authority.

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.

You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

How Evangelical Theology Terrorizes Children

watching porn is a sin

Evangelical parents are repeatedly told by their pastors that God commands them to “train up a child in the way he should go.” Why? Because if they do so, “when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Religious indoctrination and conditioning are essential tools in ensuring the salvation of children. “Get them when they are young,” the thinking goes, “and you will have them for life.” Evangelical pastors and parachurch leaders know this, so they invest significant time and money in indoctrinating children in the “faith once delivered to the saints.” By the time an Evangelical child graduates from high school, he will have likely heard 2,000 or so sermons/lessons.

Evangelical children learn at an early age that the “church” is their family. Their lives are dominated by God/Jesus/Bible/Church. The goal, of course, is to stop young adults from leaving the church. Church leaders know that young adults are the future. If they leave, Evangelicalism dies.

Children, of course, love to explore, challenge, and test boundaries — especially teenagers. Pastors fear that if teens and young adults test boundaries and wander outside the Evangelical box, they could leave the church, never to return. Instead of engagement, preachers often use threats. (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.)

Before children ever reach first grade, they have been repeatedly terrorized with threats of God’s judgment and Hell. They have been told that they are broken, the enemies of God, and in need of salvation. Children are told that if they disobey Mom or Dad, they are sinning against God; and that not doing their chores could land them in Hell. Is it any wonder that most Evangelical children get saved when they are young? Who wants to go to Hell, right?

The threats continue in their teen years. Sexually aware teens are threatened with God’s judgment if they engage in premarital sex, masturbation, or even think about sex. “Sex is reserved for married heterosexual couples” they are told, even though most of the people doing the “telling” engaged in premarital sex themselves. Further, if and when teens start thinking about getting married, they are told that they can only marry Christians; and not just any Christian, but one that is in agreement with their church’s/pastor’s beliefs. “Mixed” marriages are verboten, and sometimes the word “mixed” takes on racial connotations.

Pastors routinely lie to teens not only about sex, but also about alcohol use, drug use, and listening to secular music — to name a few. When I was an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) teen in the early 1970s, my pastors warned me about all sorts of sinful behavior, often invoking the slippery slope argument. “No girl ever gets pregnant without holding the hand of a boy first.” “Pot is a gateway drug that leads to hard drug use.” “Masturbation leads to blindness.” “Listening to rock music will open you up to Satan’s influence and control.” The list of dangers and threats seemed endless to a full-of-life, rambunctious teen boy. Yet, I obeyed. Why? Because of the threats of judgment and Hell.

Evangelical pastors remind teens and young adults that they should respect and obey those God has called to rule over them. Going against God’s ordained authority structure brings chastisement, judgment, and, possibly, death. Pastors love to trot out the Bible story about a group of boys who mocked Elisha. Two female bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two boys. Lesson? Mock the man of God, question his authority, or do anything contrary to the teachings of the Bible, God could send a “bear” to kill you.

Is it any wonder that, by the time children reach the age of eighteen they flinch every time they come to church, fearing that God is going to judge them for this or that “sinful” behavior — behaviors that are often normal and healthy?

Counseling waiting rooms are filled with Evangelical adults who were terrorized by their parents, pastors, and other authority figures. Is it any wonder that many of these wounded souls leave Christianity, never to return?

When you are in the Evangelical bubble, this kind of behavior seems “normal.” Victims of long-term abuse often think that being abused was just a part of every day life; that they deserved to be threatened with judgment and Hell. However, once they exit the bubble, they quickly learn that there was nothing “normal” about their childhood; that God and the Bible were used as tools of ritualized abuse.

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.

You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

Fifty Years Ago, I Preached My First Sermon

emmanuel baptist church 1983
Emmanuel Baptist Church, Buckeye Lake, Ohio, Bruce Gerencser’s ordination April 1983

I was raised in the Evangelical church. My parents were saved in the early 1960s at Scott Memorial Baptist Church (now Shadow Mountain Community Church) in El Cajon, California, pastored at the time by Tim LaHaye. From that time forward, the Gerencser family attended Evangelical churches — mostly Bible, Southern Baptist, or Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) congregations.

In the spring of 1972, my parents divorced after 15 years of marriage. Both of my parents remarried several months later. While my parents and their new spouses, along with my brother and sister, immediately stopped attending church, I continued to attend Trinity Baptist Church in Findlay, Ohio. In the fall of 1972, a high-powered IFB evangelist named Al Lacy came to Trinity to hold a week-long revival meeting. One night, as I sat in the meeting with my friends, I felt deep conviction over my sins while the evangelist preached. I tried to push aside the Holy Spirit’s work in my heart, but when the evangelist gave the invitation, I knew that I needed to go forward. I knew that I was a wretched sinner in need of salvation. (Romans 3) I knew that I was headed for Hell and that Jesus, the resurrected son of God, was the only person who could save me from my sin. I knelt at the altar and asked Jesus to forgive me of my sin and save me. I put my faith and trust in Jesus; that he alone was my Lord and Savior. (That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation. For the scripture saith, Whosoever believeth on him shall not be ashamedRomans 10:9-11)

I got up from the altar a changed person. I had no doubt that I was a new creation, old things had passed away, and all things had become new.  (Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. (2 Corinthians 5:17)

The next Sunday, I was baptized, and several weeks later I stood before the church and declared that I believed God was calling me to preach. For the next thirty-five years, I lived a life committed to following Jesus and the teachings of the Bible.

After confessing to the church that God was calling me to preach, my youth director, Bruce Turner, took me aside and told me it was time for me to get busy preaching the Bible. Bruce took me under his wing and helped me craft my first sermon; one that I would deliver to the junior high youth department. My chosen text was 2 Corinthians 5:19-20:

To wit, that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them; and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation. Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God.

My sermon was short, sweet, and to the point:

  1. We are Christ’s ambassadors
  2. He has committed unto us the word of reconciliation
  3. We are to implore people to be reconciled to God

Over the next four years, I would preach occasionally at youth events and Word of Life preaching contests. I didn’t begin preaching in earnest until I left to train for the ministry at age nineteen at Midwestern Baptist College in Pontiac, Michigan. My father-in-law, a Midwestern grad, had been holding Sunday afternoon services at the SHAR (Self Help and Rehabilitation) House in Detroit. After his graduation, Dad asked if I would be interested in taking over his ministry at the drug rehab facility. I told him sure, so for the next two school years, I regularly preached at SHAR House. This gave me a lot of preaching experience by the time I left Midwestern in 1979.

I preached my last sermon in April 2005 at Hedgesville Baptist Church — a Southern Baptist congregation — in Hedgesville, West Virginia. All told, I preached 4,000 sermons — preaching three to six sermons a week, plus revivals, special meetings, Bible conferences, youth rallies, and nursing homes.

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.

You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

The Age of Accountability

The Age of Accountability

At what age does God hold a person accountable for their sins? Evangelicals believe that all humans have a sin nature. This sin nature was inherited at conception from Adam, and humans have no say in the matter. From conception (or at birth) all humans become sinners. We don’t become sinners, we are sinners. Of course, babies and children don’t naturally understand this, so their parents and pastors must explain humankind’s inherent sinfulness. Children are taught early to understand the difference between right and wrong; that “wrong” is sin. Once these tender ones can parse the difference between right and wrong and know that their sin is an affront to God, they have reached the age of accountability.

Evangelical Calvinists tend to reject the notion of there being “an age of accountability.” No need, since God predestines certain people to be saved, with the rest of the unwashed masses predestined to Hell. There’s not one thing any of us can do to change God’s mind about our eternal destiny. Before the foundation of the world, God determined who was in and who was out. At what age children become accountable for their sin is irrelevant in Calvinistic soteriology.

Some Evangelicals believe that the age of twelve is when children become accountable before God for their sins. There’s no Scriptural foundation for this belief. Evangelicals who believe that twelve is the age of accountability don’t worry as much about their children’s sins. No need. God can’t judge them and send them to Hell until they are twelve.

I came of age in the Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) church movement. IFB churches and pastors take a very different approach to the age of accountability. They believe that children are accountable for their sins the moment they understand the difference between right and wrong; the moment they understand disobedience and rebellion, not only against God, but parents, pastors, and other authority figures.

Of course, children learn these things quickly in IFB homes. Sin, holiness, obedience, disobedience, and rebellion are often topics of discussion. The goal is to make children aware of their sinfulness so they can, at ages as young as four or five, understand God’s solution for sin — Jesus — and get saved. Children raised in zealous IFB homes typically get saved when they are young, and then as teenagers, they rededicate their lives to the Lord. While I was “saved” at the age of five, I use my rededication at age fifteen as my salvation date. Was I really saved at age five? I doubt it. I knew very little about the Bible or Christianity — just what I heard from my parents, pastors, and Sunday school teachers. While I certainly could have mouthed the IFB-approved plan of salvation, it wasn’t until I was fifteen that I truly understood what it meant to get saved (and later baptized, called to preach).

Why all this pressure to convert children as soon as possible? First, parents don’t want their progeny to suddenly die without being saved and go to Hell. Second, churches know that if children are not converted when they are young, it becomes increasingly unlikely they will be once they reach an age when they are developing rational, skeptical thinking skills. It’s easy to convince a five-year-old of an upright, walking talking snake. However, teens are not as gullible. Walking, talking snake, preacher? Sure. Early and frequent indoctrination and conditioning are key to keeping children in the church. Hook them when they are young and they will often stay (or move to a different cult that they think is less legalistic).

Churches have children’s church/junior church for two reasons. First, partitioning church services according to age allows children to be segregated from their parents. Kids have fun while being conditioned and indoctrinated with Evangelical beliefs, practices, and ways of life. Parents will not have to mess with their kids during worship services — ninety minutes of freedom from those demons God gave them. (For the record, I was not a fan of segregating children from their parents. Only one of the churches I pastored had a junior church.)

Second, splitting children away from their parents allows trained child and youth workers to use high-pressure methods to evangelize their charges. Scare the Hell out of children, and out of fear of judgment and death, they will pray the sinner’s prayer and get saved! For the record, I think such practices are child abuse.

What did your parents, churches, and pastors believe about the age of accountability? At what age were you saved? Did you get saved more than once? Did you fear as a child dying and going to Hell? Please share your thoughts and experiences in the comment section.

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.

You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

Why Evangelical Churches Operate Daycares

preachers and money 2

Have you ever wondered why many Evangelical churches have daycares? After I resigned in 1979 from Montpelier Baptist Church, we moved to Newark, Ohio to be near Polly’s parents. I took a job as a general manager for Arthur Treacher’s and Polly started working as a teacher at Temple Tots — a daycare “ministry” operated by the Newark Baptist Temple.

Temple Tots was an unlicensed facility. The state of Ohio exempted church daycares from regulation. What could go wrong, right? Eventually, after countless scandals, the state decided to require church daycares to follow the same laws as secular facilities. This led to a flurry of lawsuits, none of which succeeded. Eventually, the state demanded church daycares get a license, and those that didn’t were forced to close. Temple Tots was the last unlicensed church daycare in Ohio when it closed.

Church daycares typically provide services for single mothers and their children. One of the early goals was to reach needy families for Jesus. The daycares were just a means to an end. Daycares as an evangelistic tool were largely failures. Few mothers or children got saved or became church members. Over time, daycares became cash cows for churches — a means to pay mortgages, salaries, and utility bills. Today, church daycares often provide significant income to their churches. All pretense of “ministry” is gone. Church daycares often charge as much as secular facilities do. Employees are often told that they can’t be paid as much as secular daycare workers because they work in a “ministry.” Yet, parents are paying the full rate and churches are getting fat off the proceeds.

A mother will three children might be making $40,000 a year at a factory, but after daycare and travel costs are accounted for, she is making $20,000 — not a living wage. Imagine if churches put mothers and their children first or fathers and their children, for that matter. Imagine if their rates reflected their desire to help the least of these. Imagine charging the Mom of three $100-$150 a week instead of $450. Boy, that sure would make a difference, would it not?

Many local daycares are owned by churches. Sadly, families don’t have any other choice but to use these daycares. Daycare is an essential part of making life better for needy children and their parents. Surely, there’s a better way than pawning our future off to people who have ulterior motives: to “save” children, indoctrinate children, and make buckets of money while doing it.

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.

You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

Christians Say the Darnedest Things: IFB Pastor Mike Allison Says There Will be No Questions or Discussions in HIS Church

pastor mike allison

Mike Allison pastors Madison Baptist Church in Madison, Alabama. Madison Baptist is an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) congregation. Allison has been its pastor for thirty-four years.

Allison describes himself this way:

Dr. Michael Allison was born in Sturgis, MI and married his wife Janet shortly after high school. They have two daughters, Kathy and Kari. He was saved in October of 1971 while working his afternoon shift at Radio Station WAOP in Otsego, Michigan. He was called to preach in 1974 and graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree from Tennessee Temple College in 1976. He also holds a Master’s Degree in Religious Education and a Doctor of Ministry from Bethany Theological Seminary and an honorary Doctor of Divinity from Fairhaven Baptist College. He has been pastor of Madison Baptist Church since 1989.

His degrees and “doctorate” are from unaccredited IFB institutions.

Most churches are welcoming. Not Madison Baptist. Allison plasters the following on his church’s website:

We are an independent, fundamental, King James Bible-preaching, Bible-believing church. It is our prayer that we can help you grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ as you seek to do His will. Pastor Mike Allison has been our pastor since 1989.

Our services are live streamed on YouTube, Facebook, Sermon Audio and Vimeo.

Madison Baptist Church is not an open forum for discussion and ideas.  It is a Church, an assembly of believers in Jesus Christ as Saviour, who accept the Bible to be TRUE and right in EVERY detail.  This assembly meets to worship the God of the Bible, and to hear His Word preached by a MAN of God as designated by the Church.  This assembly invites any and all who want to HEAR the truth of God expounded and explained.  However, any disruptors on the premises will have their invitation immediately revoked; they are then trespassers, and will be treated as such.

Bathroom Policy: our bathrooms are only for those whose anatomy would match the word on the outside of the bathroom, not what they think or feel they are.  Violators will be expelled and prosecuted.

There’s one king at Madison Baptist, and it sure ain’t Jesus.

Evidently, Allison checks for penises and vaginas at the front door.

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.

You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.