Scores of Evangelical Christians are questioning their beliefs, leading to what is commonly called “deconstruction.” Deconstruction is a process used to carefully examine beliefs and practices. Some people who deconstruct stay in their chosen belief system. Changes are made around the edges, belief-wise, but core doctrines remain unchanged. Others leave Evangelicalism, moving on to different sects and beliefs. Many people choose to reject religions, embracing spiritualism instead. And for others, deconstruction leads to a rejection of Christianity altogether. Many of these people become agnostics or atheists.
As more and more Evangelicals deconstruct, preachers take to their pulpits to “explain” why people deconstruct. More often than not, these preachers lie through their teeth as they give reasons for people deconstructing.
Over the weekend, I listened to a number of preachers attempting to explain why people deconstruct and leave their churches. Without exception, these so-called men of God lied about those leaving the faith. These preachers may be ignorant about deconstruction, but facts are but a Google search away. At best, these preachers are lazy. At worst, their objective is to smear the character of former believers, using former Christians as sermon illustrations or using them as a warning sign from God. I have critics who do this very thing by saying my health problems are a warning sign from God. “Look at what happened to Bruce Gerencser,” these preachers say. The problem with this line of stupidity is that my health problems predate my loss of faith. Any time I have a serious problem in my life, Evangelicals will claim that God is judging me for my alleged rebellion against the Almighty. How these Nostradamuses know their pronouncements are true is never stated. When I draw my last breath, you can count on these same critics taking to the Internet and their pulpits to say that I am now burning in Hell, facing the just consequences of having a doubting, questioning mind.
By far, the number one reason Evangelical preachers give for why people deconstruct is that the church has hurt them. While church hurt certainly plays a part in the deconversion process, I don’t know of anyone who says that “hurt” is the sole reason for walking away from Christianity. That said, Evangelical churches are known for shooting the wounded, sometimes causing mortal wounds. Go ahead and cross the preacher or disagree with him and see what happens. Go ahead and do or say something that the church’s power brokers (and every church has them) object to and see what happens. Oh wait, you know what will happen, because you have experienced it. Dare to walk your own path, expressing questions and doubts, and you will find yourself marginalized, ostracized, or excommunicated. Why would people want to remain in churches where they are treated as outsiders?
Another reason preachers use to explain why people deconstruct is that they secretly want to sin. Specifically, those who deconstruct want to commit licentious sexual immorality. Numerous critics of mine say that I left Evangelicalism because I am a closeted gay man. This, of course, is patently untrue. I don’t know of anyone who deconverted solely did so because they wanted to “sin.” Besides, the church has lots of “sinners” in its midst. The Black Collar Crime Series records the criminal behavior of over a thousand preachers — mostly Evangelicals who committed sex crimes. I have yet to read an article or hear a sermon about the problem Evangelicalism has with sexual misconduct. Why not focus on the “sin” within instead of judging, criticizing, and condemning those who are without?
Let me give you one more reason Evangelical preachers give for why people deconstruct. Preachers love to paint those who deconstruct as ignorant, superficial people; people who know very little about the Bible. This, of course, is patently untrue. Most of the people I know who deconverted spent countless hours re-examining their beliefs. What these preachers are most upset about is that the deconversion process exposes the shallowness of their preaching and calls into question what they teach and preach. Worse, it reveals that most Evangelical preachers are unable or unwilling to answer serious, challenging questions about Christianity and the Bible. When no suitable answers are forthcoming, people are told to just faith-it; that in time, God will soothe all doubts and answer all questions. People might have to wait until they die and enter the Pearly Gates, but all questions will one day be answered.
Most people deconvert because Evangelical Christianity no longer makes sense to them. Why are preachers afraid to admit that this is the primary reason people deconvert? To do so would call into question their ministry; their teaching, preaching, and way of life. Instead of serious introspection, preachers blame those who have lost their faith. (Please see The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.)
If preachers truly want to know why people deconvert, I suggest that they actually talk to people who deconverted. Rarely does this happen. Most articles about deconversion are opinion pieces that lack any interviews with former Christians. Will preachers do this? Of course not. They have kingdoms and checkbooks to protect. I would love to be invited by local Evangelical churches to come share my journey from Evangelicalism to atheism. Surely, one former Christian’s testimony is no threat to the beliefs of others? Doesn’t the Bible say, “Greater is he that is in us, than he that is in the world?” I am no match for God, yet preachers fear that I will lead people astray if they ever hear from the horse’s mouth why I deconverted. Regardless, most Evangelicals have the Internet, and countless doubting/questioning Christians have contacted me for help. What reason do these people give for contacting me? Their pastors couldn’t or refused to answer their questions, or gave shallow, childish answers that they found unsatisfactory.
I suspect nothing will stem the tide of people deconstructing. It is clear, at least to me, that Evangelical churches/pastors/colleges have no answers for those who are desperately trying to hold on to their faith. Most doubters and questioners don’t want to deconvert, but the more they read and study, the more they realize that Evangelicalism no longer has answers for them. And when answers aren’t forthcoming, people will look elsewhere.
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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Many of these programs are call-in shows that encourage Christians to call in and defend their faith or answer questions about various teachings of the Bible. The answers upchucked by many of these Evangelical zealots are usually shallow, contradictory, and, at times, heretical. These defenders of the faith attend church multiple times a week, hearing the Word of God taught and preached. Some of the people who call in are pastors, evangelists, missionaries, and college professors. Sadly, many of their arguments and explanations are just as bad as people with no Bible college or seminary training. Some of these preachers need to quit preaching and go back to college to get a real education. Of course, a “real” education can and does lead to a loss of faith.
It is not uncommon for those who call these shows to complain about all the atheist programming on YouTube and TikTok. “Can’t you just keep your beliefs to yourself? Why do you have to cause people to doubt (or lose) their faith? Of course, when I put the shoe on the other foot and apply the same standard to Evangelicals, they stupidly think that only atheists should keep their mouths shut; that Evangelicals are commanded by God to preach the gospel to the ends of the earth. However, what is good for the proverbial goose is good for the gander.
One apologist bitterly moaned and complained that atheists were using the Internet to target children. Guilty, as charged, though most social media providers have rules that prohibit young children from using their services. If your eight-year-old son is watching The Atheist Experience on Sundays, that’s on you, parents. Or you might question why your children are watching atheist programs like the ones mentioned above. If Christian children are watching atheist shows, it is a sign that they are not getting the answers they need from their parents, pastors, and churches. Children are Internet savvy. They know that the answers to their questions are a few clicks away. I have had numerous Christian teenagers and young adults contact me. I have had a few youthful readers send me questions to answer for a Christian school project of theirs. I always politely and honestly answer their questions, planting seeds that I hope will sprout and grow in time. I don’t press, push, or evangelize. I’m content to answer their questions, hoping that they develop rational, skeptical thinking skills.
I have been repeatedly asked over the years to stop publicly telling my story; that I was causing people to lose their faith. Here’s what I know: if the mere telling of my story directly causes Evangelical Christians to deconvert, their faith was on shallow ground to begin with. Many people already have one foot out the church door before they stumble upon my content. Regardless, I have no intention to stop telling my story or critiquing Evangelical Christianity.
Unlike many Evangelical churches, questions are always welcome on this site. I will do my best to answer them, and if I can’t, I will point questioners to authors and websites that can. More times than I can count, I have recommended readers read one or more books by Dr. Bart Ehrman. I know that doing so is the cure for Christian Fundamentalism and Bible inerrancy. Sadly, most people whom I recommend Ehrman to refuse to read his books. Why? Their pastors warned them about reading Bart’s books lest they lose their faith. It is a shallow faith, indeed, if one book can cause you to lose it. No single book caused me to deconvert. It took numerous books and podcasts to lead me out of the doors of the church. I suspect many of the readers of this blog will say the same thing.
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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“Dr.” Arv Edgeworth, an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) evangelist, sent me another email. Here’s what he had to say
I have a question for you. I saw the list of IFB pastors and their sexual sins. I didn’t read any of the information, it would be too depressing. I know of a number of incidents like that in churches I have been associated with, sad to say. However, in your opinion, which should be considered worse: an IFB preacher who was guilty of sexual misconduct; or an IFB preacher who did a complete turn around and denied Christ, and tried to get others to do the same thing? Sexual misconduct, or spiritual misconduct? In your opinion, which would do the most damage?
I assume that Edgeworth is talking about the Black Collar Crime series. Edgeworth wants to know which is worse: an IFB preacher who raped church children or an IFB preacher (me) who deconverted and now tries to get others to do the same? What’s worse, Edgeworth asks, sexual misconduct or spiritual misconduct? I assume he thinks “spiritual” misconduct is worse because it leads to eternal consequences.
Let me be clear, sexual misconduct in all its forms is morally wrong and often leads to lifelong consequences. IFB churches are notorious for ignoring or covering up sex crimes. Worse, offenders often leave the churches where the offenses occurred and move on to other churches. More than a few IFB churches are pastored by preachers who have committed sex crimes. God has forgiven them of their sin. How dare anyone keep them from their calling! God forgives and forgets, and so should we. Or so the thinking goes, anyway.
Edgeworth’s claim that I committing spiritual misconduct is absurd. Am I taking advantage of people? Am I fulfilling the lusts of my flesh by spiritually assaulting and raping people? Of course not. I am just one man with a story to tell. I am not an evangelist for atheism. All I do is share my story and carefully examine the central claims of Evangelical Christianity. I write, people read. I have never forced myself or my beliefs on another person.
How is it spiritual abuse to encourage people to rationally think for themselves? Shouldn’t that be the goal for Christians and unbelievers alike? Edgeworth will search in vain for one post that remotely suggests that I tried to get Christians to deny the Messiah. Have some people said that my writing played an instrumental part in their deconversion? Sure, but all I did was answer their questions. Or maybe my personal testimony resonated with them. Regardless, I have never forced anyone to deny Jesus and become an atheist.
Should I not tell my story, Arv? You came to my blog and told yours. Why is it okay for Evangelicals to go from IP address to IP address, preaching the gospel, even to people who have no interest in what they are peddling? I have been told several times that I should shut up and keep my story to myself. One preacher told me he feared that if people read my story that they would deconvert. Really? Am I so powerful that my words carry such power — more powerful than God — that they can cause people to lose their salvation? Trust me, I am not that powerful. More often, my writing is just one step in the process of deconversion.
Instead of worrying about Evangelical-preachers-turned-atheists leading IFB church members astray, I would worry more about sexual predators who have infiltrated churches, using the love, kindness, and forgiveness of congregants to hide their evil actions. Sadly, church members can be naive, thinking a man of God would never, ever commit a sex crime. This is a delusion, one that leads to harm, both to church members who are abused and to vulnerable adults who are taken advantage of.
I should add that if anyone is committing spiritual abuse, it is IFB preachers. I could spend months talking about preachers who spiritually abused the churches — myself included. That’s what cults do.
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’m often asked if I had a personal relationship with Jesus — the Evangelical gold standard for what it means to be a Christian. Many Evangelicals think that I can’t have had a personal relationship with Jesus; that a true relationship with Jesus stays steady and sure until death. That I am now an atheist means I never had a super-duper personal relationship with the second part of the Godhead. If this claim is true, it means that I spent the first fifty years of my life as a deceived Christian. No matter what I point to in my life that suggests otherwise, Evangelicals say I was deceived. Imagine the sheer level of deception required for me to pull off such a feat. This should be enough for Evangelicals to see that their claim that I was (and still am) deceived is wrong, but their soteriology keeps them from doing so. You see, my story poses a big problem for Evangelicals who believe in once-saved- always-saved or eternal security. By necessity, they must conclude that either I never was a Christian or I am still a believer. Both claims are, on their face, irrational, contradictory, and absurd. As I have told such Evangelicals countless times before, “Just because you can’t square your peculiar theology with my story is your problem, not mine.” I know what I know. I once was saved, and now I am not.
Over the years, I have asked people who claim I never was a Christian for evidence for their claim. The only evidence forthcoming is proof texts from the Bible — as interpreted by my critics. However, doesn’t the Bible say that we judge a person by the fruit he produces; that good works are the measure of a man or a woman? Have you never noticed that judgmental, hateful Christians always want to focus on theology, not how they live out their beliefs? They know their behavior betrays their beliefs, so they focus on theological or philosophical arguments instead. However, the Bible is clear: the measure of a person is how he lives.
According to this standard, I measure up quite well. I spent most of my adult life loving and serving others, including the poor, the imprisoned, and the homeless. I invested myself in the lives of my parishioners, at times at the expense of my partner and children. I preached with or without pay. Why? Because I believed I had a higher calling to preach the gospel to the unsaved and teach the Bible to Christians. What mattered was the work of the ministry. I selflessly devoted myself to this calling for twenty-five years.
If I never was a Christian, how do my critics explain the aforementioned evidence to the contrary? I have repeatedly challenged my critics to find one person who knew me at the time I was a pastor who would say they knew I never was a Christian. I’m confident that no evidence will be forthcoming. I am not perfect, not now, nor when I was an Evangelical pastor. I “sinned” just like every other Christian, yet the bent of my life was towards holiness. At best, I was an imperfect, falible man who sincerely wanted to help others. And that, my friend, is what I still try to be today.
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.
In 2023, Richard, an Evangelical Christian, sent me an email, to which I responded in the post Dear Richard, the Evangelical Christian. Richard did not respond to my post, either by commenting or sending me an email. In 2024, Richard sent me another email, Dear Richard, the Evangelical Christian — Round Two. In what is turning out to be an annual affair, Richard sent me another email, which follows. I will attempt to respond to Richard again. (All spelling, grammar, and punctuation in the original.)
Bruce, it has been awhile since I last corresponded with you. I noticed that you provided a couple of updates on 3/5/2025 where you shared a bit more about your life growing up. At times, it sounded pretty tumultuous, like life can be. Jesus certainly did not have it easy either.
In what way did Jesus have it “hard”? Outside of the 48-72 hours detailing his arrest, crucifixion, and burial, I find nothing in Scripture that suggests Jesus had a hard life. He might have had such a life, but we have no evidence that justifies such a claim. Even when we consider his suffering, it didn’t last long and does not compare to those who suffer years on end. (Please see I Wish Christians Would Be Honest About Jesus’ Three Day Weekend.)
King Herod wanted to kill him, so Joseph was instructed to take the family to Egypt and he quickly did as he was told. There was a certain similarity between the one you thought was your Dad and Joseph.
Robert Gerencser was no Joseph. He was largely an absentee father who repeatedly moved his family across the country because he couldn’t pay the rent or properly care for his wife and children. Dad didn’t attend my school or sporting events, never sent my children gifts for Christmas after promising to do so year after year, and stole money and property that belonged to me. Imagine being sent to school without lunch money or having to shoplift to have clothes.
As far as Dad’s motivations, I suspect he wanted to be viewed by others as successful and financially well-off. Simply put, he lived beyond his means, and his family suffered. For years, I hated my dad for all the moving, and the fact that I attended ten schools in three states. This was no way to raise and care for children.
You found out considerably later in life that you undoubtedly had another Dad you had never met. Joseph had been advised by Gabriel that Jesus’ Dad was God the Father, although it sounds quite clear from the Bible that his parents never revealed his origin in life to Him. Fear of being at odds with the religious establishment of the day was probably why Jesus and his half-brothers were not told of His supernatural beginnings by His mother and step-father. I do not believe that their role in His life caused them to love Jesus any less than the other children they had.
I found out who my biological father was via a DNA test. You make a lot of claims about Jesus and his parentage but provide no evidence for these assertions. A DNA test for Jesus would be nice. I get it, by faith you believe the supernatural claims in the Bible. However, I am not a person of faith, so if you want me to believe your claims, I will need more evidence than personal opinions. You are free to believe what you want, but I suspect your emails are an attempt to persuade me of the truthfulness of your claims. So far, I am unpersuaded.
Growing up in life, I was always told that a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. One of the major problems with the doctrine of eternal security is that human beings and angels both have free wills. Satan chose to rebel against God, along with a third of the angels in heaven, and, as a result, they were cast out of heaven for their attempted insurrection/rebellion. We, as human beings, can choose to follow Jesus or we can choose to walk away from Him.
There is so much wrong with this paragraph that I don’t know where to begin.
First, both Calvinism and Arminianism — in all their flavors — are taught in the Bible. I concluded long ago that the Bible can be used to prove almost anything; when determining which Christian sect is right, I decided all of them are. Each sect, church, pastor, and individual Christian appeals to the Bible as justification for their beliefs. Who is right, and who is wrong? How do we determine who is right?
I reject the notion that humans have libertarian free will. I didn’t believe this as an Evangelical, and I certainly don’t believe it now. A lifetime of Evangelical and rightwing indoctrination and conditioning largely determined what I would believe, both as a child and an adult. There was nothing “free” about this process. If you would like to have an in-depth discussion about free will, let me know, and I will write an in-depth post (or series of posts) on this subject.
Let me add that Satan is not mentioned anywhere in the Old Testament. Evangelicals make a lot of assumptions about Satan. For example, most Evangelicals believe that the snake in the Garden of Eden was Satan. However, there’s not a shred of evidence for this claim.
Judas Iscariot was given numerous opportunities by Jesus to avoid the path of destruction his life ofbetrayal charted for him, but the love of money was too strong a temptation for him to resist. It also did not help that he was a thief as well.Jesus was certainly willing to forgive him.
Not according to the Bible. Judas was the Son of Perdition, chosen by God to betray Jesus. Since Jesus was a lamb slain before the foundation of the world, every aspect of Jesus’s birth and death were predetermined. God is sovereign over all things, including Jesus’s life and death.
Where does the Bible say Jesus was willing to forgive Judas? No, Jesus, the God-man, knew exactly what would happen to him. He knew when, where, and how Judas would betray him.
Initially, when the two thieves were being crucified with Jesus, they both railed against Him and were as abusive as the others who were mocking Him. (Matthew 27:44). Yet, in Luke 23:39-43, we read that when one of the thieves asked Jesus in humility to remember him when He came into His kingdom, Jesus was quick to assure him that he would be with Him in paradise that very day. In this life, what counts is how we finish and not how we start out. The thief who had the best ending never even got baptized.
All of us are privileged to be alive at this time in human history. There is much deception and an inordinate amount of erroneous information. The Bible tells the good, the bad, and the ugly. It has nothing to hide. When Jesus was crucified, his disciples concluded that he would stay dead, yet he showed Himself to them on multiple occasions prior to ascending into heaven. From being totally dispirited and discouraged, they became transformed and turned the world upside down with the Good News that death was defeated and we could be reconciled to God because Jesus died in our place for our sins.
Where does the Bible say one of the thieves got baptized? Both died on the cross, and were either left on the cross to rot or were thrown in an unmarked grave for criminals. I suspect Jesus ended up in a similar grave. There’s nothing in the Biblical account that suggests either thief was baptized.
Did the disciples really turn the world upside down? What evidence do you have for this claim? Jesus, at the time of his death, was largely a failure. When his followers gathered in the Upper Room after his death, how many were there? About 120. Jesus was largely ignored by both Jews and Gentiles alike, and it would be hundreds of years, thanks to Constantine, before Christianity numerically grew. I am not saying the disciples didn’t spread the gospel, but most Evangelicals grossly overestimate the influence Christians had on society during the early years of Christianity.
One of the biggest stumbling blocks that Satan uses today are “Christians” who become his mouthpieces/servants by words they say and actions they take. You had your share of such people crossing your path over the years Bruce. Even Job had to contend with that. His wife and his three friends were not much of a comfort to him during his trials. Jesus does not behave that way.
Let me be clear, I deconverted because I no longer believed the central claims of Christianity were true; that the core teaching of the church no longer made sense to me. (Please read The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.) I didn’t leave Christianity because I was hurt, bitter, angry, or any of the other false reasons ascribed to my deconversion story. Most of my negative experiences with Christians came AFTER I deconverted, not before. While I have certainly met some kind, thoughtful Christians post-Jesus, I have received countless emails, blog comments, social media messages, and snail mail letters from hateful, mean-spirited, nasty bullies-for-Jesus. I am talking about thousands of such interactions. The Bible says you can judge believers based on the fruit their lives produce. All I see is a rotting corpse.
Although in recent years, you have been working overtime to convince others there is no God, God in His mercy still very much loves you. He came into this world to save sinners. We are all sinners in need of a Saviour.
Speak for yourself; I am not a sinner.
You can’t possibly know if God loves me. I could be an apostate or a reprobate. I see no evidence for a God who “loves me, cares for me, and has a wonderful plan for my life.” All I see is an absentee God who doesn’t give a shit about me. Of course, I don’t think God exists, so my argument is with the Bible’s God — a divine being created by humans. Let me add in passing, do you know there are numerous deities in the Bible, beginning in Genesis 1? I encourage you to check out Dr. Dan McClellan’s work on this subject.
I spend very little time trying to convince people of anything, let alone atheism. I am just one man with a story to tell. If people find my story helpful, I am grateful. However, I DO NOT evangelize people for atheism. Sure, I critique Evangelical Christianity, but I do not attempt to bring people to the light. I am content to write, and let people do with my writing what they will. Unlike Richard and countless other Evangelicals, I have never gone to a Christian blog or website and tried to get people to deconvert.
You have a multitude of physical ailments Bruce but you are still alive. Where there is life, there is hope.
Hope for what? You seem to think that I am lacking in some way; that my life is missing something important. How can you possibly know this? Yes, I have serious health problems. Yes, I will likely die sooner, and not later. I know my days are numbered. Yet, you want me to waste my time worshipping a non-existent deity? No thanks. Been there, done that. I have weighed the claims of Christianity in the balance and found them wanting.
I do not believe God sends anyone to hell. He gives us a free will. We choose to live how we want to live. The actions we take are what decide our final/ultimate destination. Romans is a very good book which explains the difference between living for the flesh or walking in the Spirit. The flesh and its fleshly appetites bring death. The Spirit gives life. We all need to choose life!
If God is the sovereign creator of all things and the giver and taker of life, then our eternal destiny rests solely with him. Our salvation rests in God’s hands, not ours. According to the Bible, every word, thought, and deed is controlled by God. It seems in Richard’s theology, God is the only one who doesn’t have free will.
It is evident that Richard thinks my life is inferior and that what I need is what he has — Jesus. And if I would only read the book of Romans, I would understand this. First, I exegetically preached through the book of Romans twice. I know what the book says. Second, I am not interested in what the Bible says about anything. That’s why I ask people NOT to send me preachy emails. Richard ignored my request and has now sent me THREE preachy messages, as if he could possibly say something I haven’t heard countless times before.
Apart from chronic pain and chronic illness, I have a good life. I have been married to a wonderful woman for almost forty-seven years. We are blessed to have six adult children, three daughters-in-law, and sixteen awesome grandchildren. We own our home, drive a newer model automobile, and have four cats. I have, in every way, a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious life. Yes, death is stalking me, and, at times, I can feel its breath upon my neck. I try each and every day to live life to its fullest. I have no need for God, the church, or the Bible. Richard lives in a blinkered world where all that matters is Jesus. If that works for him — fine, but such a life does not interest me.
Saved by Reason,
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’m almost sixty-eight years old, and there has never been a moment when you were not in my life.
Mom and Dad talked about you before I was born, deciding to have me baptized by an Episcopal priest. They wanted me to grow up with good morals and love you, so they decided putting water on my forehead and having a priest recite religious words over me was the way to ensure my moral Christian future.
A few weeks after my birth, Mom and Dad gathered with family members to have me baptized at the Episcopal Church in Bryan, Ohio. I was later told it was quite an affair, but I don’t remember anything about the day. Years later, I found my baptismal certificate. Signed by the priest, it declared I was a Christian.
Jesus, how could I have been a Christian at age four weeks? How did putting water on my head make me a follower of you? I don’t understand, but according to the certificate, I was now part of my tribe’s religion: Protestant Christianity.
I turned five in 1962. Mom and Dad decided to move 2,300 miles to San Diego, California, believing that success and prosperity awaited them.
After getting settled, Mom and Dad said we need to find a new church to attend. Their shopping took them to a growing Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) congregation, Scott Memorial Baptist Church, pastored by Tim LaHaye. It was here that I learned that my tribe had a new religion: Fundamentalist Baptist Christianity.
I quickly learned that our previous religion worshiped a false God, and my baptism didn’t make me a Christian at all. If I wanted to be a True Christian®, I had to come forward to the front of the church, kneel at the altar, and pray a certain prayer. If I did these things, I would then be a Christian — forever. And so I did. This sure pleased Mom and Dad.
Later, I was baptized again, but the preacher didn’t sprinkle water on my forehead. That would not do, I was told. True Baptism® required me to be submerged in a tank of water. And so, one Sunday, I joined a line of people waiting to be baptized. I was excited, yet scared. Soon, it came time for me to be dunked. The preacher put his left hand behind my head and raised his right hand towards Heaven. He asked, “Bruce, do you confess before God and man that Jesus Christ is your Lord and Savior?” With a halting child’s voice, I replied, “Yes.” And with that, the preacher, with a hanky in his right hand, put his hand over my nose, dunked me in the water, and quickly lifted me up. I heard both the preacher and the congregation say, “Amen!”
Jesus, the Bible says that the angels in Heaven rejoice when a sinner gets saved. Do you remember the day I got saved? Do you remember hearing the angels in Heaven say, “Praise be to the Lamb that was slain! Bruce Gerencser is now a child of God. Glory be, another soul snatched from the hands of Satan?”
After a few years in California, Mom and Dad discovered that there was no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and our family was just as poor in the Golden State as they were in the dreary flat lands of rural northwest Ohio. And so we moved, a process that happened over and over to me throughout the next decade — eight different schools.
As I became more aware and observant of my environment, I noticed that Mom and Dad had changed. Mom, in particular, was quite animated and agitated over American social unrest caused by hippies, niggers (a word routinely used by my parents), and the war in Vietnam against the evil forces of communism. Mom and Dad took us to a new church, First Baptist Church in Bryan, Ohio — an IFB church pastored by Jack Bennett. We attended church twice on Sunday and Wednesday evening.
I attended Bryan schools for two years. Not long after I started fourth grade, Mom and Dad decided it was time to move yet again. This time, we moved to a brand-new tri-level home on Route 30 outside of Lima, Ohio. It was there that I started playing basketball and baseball — sports I would continue to play competitively for the next twenty or so years. It was also there that I began to see that something was very wrong with Mom. At the time, I didn’t understand what was going on with her. All I knew is that she could be “Mom” one day and a raging lunatic the next.
I was told by my pastors, Jesus, that you know and see everything. Just in case you were busy one day and missed what went on or were on vacation, let me share a few stories about what happened while we lived in Lima.
One night, Mom was upstairs, and I heard her screaming. I mean SCREAMING! She was having one of her “fits.” I decided to see if there was anything I could do to help her — that’s what the oldest child does. As I walked towards Mom’s bedroom, I saw her grabbing shoes and other things and violently throwing them down the hallway. This was the first time I remember being afraid . . .
One day, I got off the school bus and quickly ran down the gravel drive to our home. I always had to be the first one in the door. As I walked into the kitchen, I noticed that Mom was lying on the floor unconscious in a pool of blood. She had slit her wrists. I quickly ran to the next-door neighbor’s house and asked her to help. She summoned an ambulance, and Mom’s life was saved.
Mom would try again, and again to kill herself: slitting her wrists, overdosing on prescription medication, driving in front of a truck. At the age of fifty-four, she succeeded. One Sunday morning, Mom went into the bathroom, pointed a Ruger .357 at her heart, and pulled the trigger. She quickly slumped to the floor and was dead in minutes. Yet, she never stopped believing in you, Jesus. No matter what happened, Mom held on to her tribe’s God.
Halfway through my fifth-grade year, Mom and Dad moved to Farmer, Ohio. I attended Farmer Elementary School for the fifth and sixth grades. One day, I was home from school sick, and Mom’s brother-in-law stopped by. He didn’t know I was in my bedroom. After he left, Mom came to my room crying, saying, “I have been raped. I need you to call the police.” I was twelve. We didn’t have a phone, so I ran to the neighbor’s house to call the police, but my Christian neighbor wouldn’t let me use her phone.. There would be no call to the police on this day. Do you remember this day, Jesus? Where were you? I thought you were all-powerful? Why didn’t you do anything?
From Farmer, we moved to Deshler, Ohio for my seventh-grade year of school. Then Mom and Dad moved us to Findlay, Ohio. By then, my parent’s fifteen year marriage was in shambles. Dad never seemed to be home, and Mom continued to have wild, manic mood swings. Shortly before the end of ninth grade, Dad matter-of-factly informed me that they were getting a divorce. “We don’t love each other anymore,” Dad said. And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving me to wallow in my pain. That’s how Dad always treated me. I can’t remember a time when he embraced me or said, “I love you.” I would learn years later that “Dad” was not my biological father; that my real father was a truck driver Mom met at age seventeen while working at The Hub — a local truck stop. I wonder, Jesus, was this why he kept me at arm’s length emotionally?
After moving to Findlay, Mom and Dad joined Trinity Baptist Church — a fast-growing IFB congregation pastored by Gene Millioni. After Mom and Dad divorced, they stopped attending church. Both of them quickly remarried. Dad married a nineteen-year-old girl with a baby, and Mom married her first cousin — a recent Texas prison parolee. So much upheaval and turmoil, Jesus. Where were you when all of this was going on? I know, I know, you were there in spirit, but you had more important things to do than loving and caring for a vulnerable, hurting teenager.
Mom and Dad may have stopped going to church, but I didn’t. By then, I had a lot of friends and started dating, so there was no way I would miss church. Besides, attending church got me away from home, a place where Dad’s new and improved wife made it clear I wasn’t welcome.
One fall weeknight, I sat in church with my friends listening to Evangelist Al Lacy. I was fifteen. As is the custom in IFB churches, Lacy prayed at the end of his sermon, asking, “with every head bowed, and every eye closed, is there anyone here who is not saved and would like me to pray for them?” I had been feeling under “conviction” during the sermon. I thought, “maybe I’m not saved?” So, I raised my hand. Lacy prayed for those of us who had raised our hands and then had everyone stand. As the congregation sang Just as I am, Lacy said, “if you raised your hand, I want you to step out of your seat and come to the altar. Someone will meet you there and show you how you can know Jesus as your Lord and Savior.” Much to the surprise of my friends, I haltingly stepped out from my seat and walked to the front. I was met by Ray Salisbury — a church deacon. Ray had me kneel as he took me through a set of Bible verses called the Roman’s Road. After quizzing me on what I had read, Ray asked me if I wanted to be saved. I said, “yes,” and then Ray said, “pray this prayer after me: Dear Lord Jesus, I know I am a sinner, and I know you died on the cross for my sins. Right now, I ask you to forgive me of my sins and come into my heart and save me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.” After I prayed the prayer, Ray said, “AMEN!” “Did you really believe what you prayed?” I replied, “yes.” “Then you are now a child of God, a born-again Christian.”
The next Sunday, I was baptized, and the Sunday after that, I went forward again, letting the church know that you, Jesus, were calling me to preach. I was all in after that. For the next thirty-five years, Jesus, I lived and breathed you. You were my life, the sum of my existence.
At the age of nineteen, I enrolled in classes at Midwestern Baptist College in Pontiac, Michigan. It was here I received training to become a proper IFB pastor, and it was here I met the love of my life, a beautiful dark-haired preacher’s daughter named Polly. We married during the summer between our sophomore and junior years. We were so excited about our new life, thrilled to be preparing to work in God’s vineyard. We planned to graduate, go to a small community to start a new IFB church, buy a white two-story house with a white picket fence, and have two children: Jason and Bethany, and live happily ever after. However, Jesus, you had different plans for us. Do you remember what happened to us? Surely you do, right? Friends and teachers told us that you were testing us! Polly was six months pregnant by early spring, and I was laid off from my machine shop job. We were destitute, yet, the college dean told us, “Jesus wants you to trust him and stay in college.” No offer of financial help was forthcoming, and we finally had to move out of our apartment. With my tail between my legs, I packed up our meager belongings and returned to Bryan, Ohio. I had failed your test, Jesus. I still remember what one of my friends told me, “If you leave now, God will NEVER use you!”
What did he know? After moving, I quickly secured secular employment at ARO and began working at a local IFB church. For the next twenty-five years, I pastored Evangelical churches in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Jesus, you were my constant companion, my lover, friend, and confidante. I sure loved you, and I believed you loved me too. We were BFFs, right? Sometimes, I wondered if you really loved me as much as I loved you. Our love affair was virtual in nature. We never met face-to-face, but I believed in my heart of hearts you were the very reason for my existence. When I doubted this, I attributed my doubts to Satan or me not praying hard enough or reading the Bible enough. I never thought for one moment, Jesus, that you might be a figment of my imagination, a lie taught to me by my parents and pastors. I was a true believer. That is, until I wasn’t.
At age fifty, I finally realized, Jesus, that you were a myth, the main character of a 2,000-year-old fictional story. I concluded that all those times when I wondered where you were, were in fact, true. I couldn’t find you because you were dead. You had died almost 2,000 years before. The Bible told me about your death, but I believed that you were resurrected from the dead. I feel so silly now. Dead people don’t come back to life. Your resurrection from the dead was just a campfire story, and I had foolishly believed it. I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on myself. Everyone I knew believed the same story. All of us believed that the miracles attributed to you, Jesus, really happened; that you were a virgin-born God-man; that you ascended to Heaven to prepare a mansion for us to live in after we die.
It all seems so silly now, Jesus, but I really did believe in you. Fifty years, Jesus. The prime of my life, I gave to you, only to find out that you were a lie. Yet, here I am today, and you are still “with” me. My parents, pastors, and professors did a good job of indoctrinating me. You are very much “real” to me, even though you lie buried somewhere on a Judean hillside. Try as I might, I can’t get you out of my mind. I have come to accept that you will never leave me.
You should know, Jesus — well, you can’t know, you are dead — that I spend my days helping people get away from you. What did you say, Jesus? I can’t hear you. I can hear the voices of Christians condemning me as a heretic, blasphemer, tool of Satan, and hater of God. I can hear them praying for my death or threatening me with eternal damnation in the Lake of Fire. Their voices are loud and clear, but your voice, Jesus? Silence.
Always silent, Jesus. Why is that?
If you ever want to talk to me, you know where I live. Show up at my door, Jesus, and that will be a miracle I can believe in. Better yet, if you can help the Cincinnati Bengals win the Super Bowl, that would be awesome!
If you can’t help my football team win a few games, Jesus, what good are you? It’s not like I am asking you to feed the hungry, heal the sick, or put an end to violence and war. That would require you to give a shit, Jesus, and if there’s one thing I have learned over the past sixty-eight years, it is this: you don’t give a shit about what happens on earth. We, humans, are on our own, and that’s fine with me.
A Sinner Saved by Reason,
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 have listened to several podcasts and read blog posts by Christian apologists asserting that people who leave Christianity are weak; that if they had more character, backbone, and strength they would have remained Christians. Long-time readers have witnessed Evangelical preachers such as Dr. David Tee frequently suggest that I am weak, a quitter. Such false accusations certainly sting, but I have learned that folks who hurl such things my way are only trying to disparage and hurt me.
Evangelical critics know that it’s anything but easy for committed believers to walk away from Christianity. Such people were not nominal Christians who infrequently attended church. Thus, these critics are gaslighting people when they say that former Christians were weak, and that’s why they deconverted. I contend that most people who deconvert have great strength and courage; and that there was nothing easy about them walking (or running) away from everything they held dear.
In my case, I had been part of the Evangelical church for fifty years, a pastor for twenty-five of those years. As a person of deep faith and love for Jesus, I devoted my entire life to following Jesus and doing the work he called me to do. My partner of forty-six years can say the same. God wasn’t something we just did on Sundays. God, Jesus, the Bible, the church, and the work of the ministry dominated our lives seven days a week. We were not nominal, half-hearted believers, as any former church member and ministerial colleague will attest. Simply put, if we weren’t Christians, nobody was.
Thus, when we walked away from Christianity, it wasn’t because we were weak. If we were weak, we would have remained in the church. If we were weak we would have continued to play the game. Instead, we made the hardest decision in our lives. With much angst and psychological pain, we left all we held dear. we lost our church community, family, and social connections. Overnight we were ostracized and treated as if we were tools of Satan. People we had known all our lives, met in college, or labored together in God’s vineyard, abandoned us overnight. I received nasty, hateful emails, letters, and blog comments from people who previously loved and respected me. Several preachers used my deconversion as sermon fodder, spreading half-truths and lies about me.
Weak, we were not, and neither were others I know who deconverted. How much strength would it have taken for us to stay in the church? Not much. It is always easier to go along than it is to stand up for what you really believe. I don’t fault anyone who takes a different path, but to suggest that I was somehow “weak” because I dared to act upon my beliefs and convictions is untrue. Those who suggest otherwise are guilty of character assassination.
Former Evangelical Christians are some of the strongest people I know; people willing to be true to their convictions and beliefs; people who put intellectual honesty above perception; and people who are willing to make great sacrifices to maintain and practice their beliefs. Many of them have forsaken all to follow reason, skepticism, and rational inquiry. I applaud their commitment to truth. To call such people “weak” is just a cheap attempt to smear their character.
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 reader sent me several thoughtful questions that I would like to answer in this post:
Dear Bruce,
I admire how you bravely stood up by writing that letter to make the points you made. Years later, after the firestorm, do you still think writing it was the best way to let everyone know about your deconversion? Any regrets over the firestorm?
Also, I wonder if any old friends who are evangelicals remained friends with you afterward?
I wonder all this because I am unsure about whether I should come out publicly or not. Our personalities are quite different, but I value your perspective.
My partner, Polly, and I, along with our three youngest children — then ages 18, 16, and 14 — attended church for the last time on the last Sunday in November 2008. We had been attending the Ney United Methodist Church on Sundays, though occasionally we would visit other churches. For months prior, Polly and I had been talking about our experiences as Evangelical Christians. Both of us had spent our entire lives in Evangelical churches. After marrying in 1978, we spent twenty-five years pastoring Evangelical churches in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Our last pastorate (2003) was a Southern Baptist church in Clare, Michigan. We spent the next five years visiting over one hundred churches (Please see But Our Church is DIFFERENT!) in five states looking for a place to call home. Instead, we became increasingly disillusioned by what we saw, heard, and experienced, in both Evangelical and mainline churches.
During these five years, we spent countless hours talking about our experiences and beliefs. By the time we reached 2008, Polly and I had serious doubts about the Bible and the bedrock beliefs we held dear. Both of us feared where the path we were on would lead, but we couldn’t stop. Indeed, we were on the slippery slopes our pastors warned us about — the downward slope that led to unbelief.
I’m not sure that either of us thought our last Sunday at Ney United Methodist was the end of the road for us, but after we came home from church, with tears in my eyes, I said to Polly, “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.” Polly replied, “I’m done too.” Discussions, of course, about the Bible, religion, and church, in general, continued for some time. We weren’t atheists, but we weren’t Christians either. Our identities were so wrapped up in the ministry as pastor and pastor’s wife, we were uncertain about what the future held for us — including whether God was going to punish us or strike us dead for walking away from Christianity.
Rumors had been swirling among Evangelical friends, colleagues in the ministry, and former church members for some time. To put an end to all the gossip, I decided to write an open letter, and send it out to family, friends, and former parishioners. Sent out to a hundred or so people, here’s what I wrote:
Dear Family, Friends, and Former Parishioners,
I have come to a place in life where I can no longer put off writing this letter. I have dreaded this day because I know what is likely to follow after certain people receive it. I have decided I can’t control how others react to this letter, so it is far more important to clear the air and make sure everyone knows the facts about Bruce Gerencser.
I won’t bore you with a long, drawn-out history of my life. I am sure each of you has an opinion about how I have lived my life and the decisions I have made. I also have an opinion about how I have lived my life and the decisions I made. I am my own worst critic.
Religion, in particular Baptist, Evangelical, and Fundamentalist religion, has been the essence of my life from my youth up. My being is so intertwined with religion that the two are quite inseparable. My life has been shaped and molded by religion, and religion touches virtually every fiber of my being.
I spent most of my adult life pastoring churches, preaching, and being involved in religious work to some degree or another. I pastored thousands of people over the years, preached thousands of sermons, and participated in and led thousands of worship services.
To say that the church was my life would be an understatement. But, as I have come to see, the church was actually my mistress, and my adulterous affair with her was at the expense of my wife, children, and my own self-worth. (Please see It’s Time to Tell the Truth: I Had an Affair.)
Today, I am publicly announcing that the affair is over. My wife and children have known this for a long time, but now everyone will know.
The church robbed me of so much of my life, and I have no intention of allowing her to have one more moment of my time. Life is too short. I am dying. We all are. I don’t want to waste what is left of my life chasing after things I now think are vain and empty.
I have always been known as a reader, a student of the Bible. I have read thousands of books in my lifetime. The knowledge gained from my reading and studies has led me to some conclusions about religion, particularly the Fundamentalist, Evangelical religion that played such a prominent part in my life.
I can no longer wholeheartedly embrace the doctrines of Evangelical, Fundamentalist Christianity. Particularly, I do not believe in the inerrancy of Scripture, nor do I accept as true the common Evangelical belief of the inspiration of Scripture.
Coming to this conclusion has forced me to reevaluate many of the doctrines I have held as true over these many years. I have concluded that I have been misinformed, poorly taught, and sometimes lied to. As a result, I can no longer accept as true many of the doctrines I once believed.
I point the finger of blame at no one. I sincerely believed and taught the things that I did, and many of the men who taught me were honorable teachers. Likewise, I don’t blame those who have influenced me over the years, nor do I blame the authors of the many books I have read. Simply, it is what it is.
I have no time to invest in the blame game. I am where I am today for many reasons, and I must embrace where I am and move forward.
In moving forward, I have stopped attending church. I have not attended a church service since November of 2008. I have no interest or desire to attend any church regularly. This does not mean I will never attend a church service again, but it does mean, for NOW, I have no intention of attending church.
I pastored for the last time in 2003. Almost six years have passed by. I have no intentions of ever pastoring again. When people ask me about this, I tell them I am retired. With the health problems that I have, it is quite easy to make an excuse for not pastoring, but the fact is I don’t want to pastor.
People continue to ask me, “What do you believe?” Rather than inquiring about how my life is, the quality of that life, etc., they reduce my life to what I believe. Life becomes nothing more than a set of religious constructs. A good life becomes believing the right things.
I can tell you this . . . I believe God is . . . and that is the sum of my confession of faith.
A precursor to my religious views changing was a seismic shift in my political views. My political views were so entangled with my Fundamentalist beliefs that when my political views began to shift, my beliefs began to unravel.
I can better describe my political and social views than I can my religious ones. I am a committed progressive, liberal Democrat, with the emphasis being on the progressive and liberal. My evolving views on women, abortion, homosexuality, war, socialism, social justice, and the environment have led me to the progressive, liberal viewpoint.
I know some of you are sure to ask, what does your wife think of all of this? Quite surprisingly, she is in agreement with me on many of these things. Not all of them, but close enough that I can still see her standing here. Polly is no theologian. She is not trained in theology as I am. (She loves to read fiction.) Nevertheless, I was able to get her to read Bart Ehrman’s book Misquoting Jesus and several others. She found the books to be quite an eye-opener.
Polly is free to be whomever and whatever she wishes. If she wants to start attending the local Fundamentalist Baptist church, she is free to do so and even has my blessing. But, for now, she doesn’t. She may never believe as I do, but in my new way of thinking, that is okay. I really don’t care what others think. Are you happy? Are you at peace? Are you living a good, productive life? Do you enjoy life? Answering in the affirmative to these questions is good enough for me.
I have six children, three of whom are out on their own. For many years, I was the spiritual patriarch of the family. Everyone looked to me for answers. I feel somewhat burdened over my children. I feel as if I have left them out on their own with no protection. But, I know they have good minds and can think and reason for themselves. Whatever they decide about God, religion, politics, or American League baseball is fine with me.
All I ask of my wife and children is that they allow me the freedom to be myself, that they allow me to journey on in peace and love. Of course, I still love a rousing discussion about religion, the Bible, politics, etc. I want my family to know that they can talk to me about these things, and anything else for that matter, any time they wish.
Opinions are welcome. Debate is good. All done? Let’s go to the tavern and have a round on me. Life is about the journey, not the destination, and I want my wife and children to be a part of my journey, and I want to be a part of theirs.
One of the reasons for writing this letter is to put an end to the rumors and gossip about me. Did you know Bruce is/or is not_____________? Did you know Bruce believes____________? Did you know Bruce is a universalist, agnostic, atheist, liberal ___________?
For you who have been friends or former parishioners, I apologize to you if my changing beliefs have unsettled you or has caused you to question your own faith. That was never my intent.
The question is this: what now?
Family and friends are not sure what to do with me.
I am still Bruce. I am still married. I am still your father, father-in-law, grandfather, brother, uncle, nephew, cousin, and son-in-law. I would expect you to love me as I am and treat me with respect.
Here is what I don’t want from you:
Attempts to show me the error of my way. Fact is, I have studied the Bible and read far more books than many of you. So what do you really think you are going to show me that will be so powerful and unknown that it will cause me to return to the religion and politics of my past?
Constant reminders that you are praying for me. Please don’t think of me as unkind, but I don’t care that you are praying for me. I find no comfort, solace, or strength from your prayers. So be my friend if you can, pray if you must, but leave your prayers in the closet. As long as God gets your prayer message, that will be sufficient.
Please don’t send me books, tracts, or magazines. You are wasting your time and money.
Invitations to attend your church. The answer is NO. Please don’t ask. I used to attend church for the sake of family, but no longer. It is hypocritical for me to perform a religious act of worship just for the sake of family. I know how to find a church if I am so inclined: after all, I have visited more than 125 churches since 2002. (Please see But Our Church is DIFFERENT!)
Offers of a church to pastor. It is not the lack of a church to pastor that has led me to where I am. If I would lie about what I believe, I could be pastoring again in a matter of weeks. I am not interested in ever pastoring a church again.
Threats about judgment and Hell. I don’t believe in either, so your threats have no impact on me.
Phone calls. If you are my friend, you know I don’t like talking on the phone. I have no interest in having a phone discussion about my religious or political views.
Here is what I do want from you: I want you to unconditionally love me where I am and how I am.
That’s it.
Now I realize some (many) of you won’t be able to do that. My friendship or familial relationship with you is cemented with the glue of Evangelical orthodoxy. Remove the Bible, God, and fidelity to a certain set of beliefs, and there is no basis for a continued relationship.
I understand that. I want you to know I have appreciated and enjoyed our friendship over the years. I understand that you cannot be my friend anymore. I even understand you may have to denounce me publicly and warn others to stay away from me for fear of me contaminating them with my heresy. Do what you must. We had some wonderful times together, and I will always remember those good times.
You are free from me if that is your wish.
I shall continue to journey on. I can’t stop. I must not stop.
Thank you for reading my letter.
Bruce
— end of letter
After this letter was received, the response of Evangelical family members, fellow preachers, and former church members was immediate. Letters. Emails. Books. Personal visits. Worse, the gossip didn’t stop. Now people were wondering if I was under the influence and control of Satan or whether I was even a Christian. Several pastor friends said I was mentally ill or that I was destroying my family. Not one person tried to understand where I was coming from. All they seemed to care about was that I left the cult.
Now to the questions.
Years later, after the firestorm, do you still think writing it was the best way to let everyone know about your deconversion?
I still think that writing the letter above was the best way to let everyone know that I was no longer a Christian. I genuinely thought that if I was just honest and open with people about where I was in life, everyone would understand. I was, of course, naive. I grossly underestimated how people would respond to the letter. Former church members, in particular, had a hard time reconciling my unbelief with the sermons they heard me preach and the part I played in leading them to salvation. If I could lose my faith, what about them? Several members told me that they found my deconversion so troubling that they could no longer be friends with me or even talk to me. (Please see Dear Greg, A Letter to a Former Parishioner: Dear Wendy, Dear Terry — Part One, and Dear Terry — Part Two.) Former colleagues in the ministry were far more hostile towards me. Their words cut me to the quick. These were the same men I preached for, prayed with, counseled and supported when they were going through tough times, and fellowshipped with, yet now I was a pariah, a man worthy or ridicule and judgment. (Please see Dear Friend.)
Any regrets over the firestorm?
I regret the pain I caused people who couldn’t reconcile my deconversion with what they knew about me. They knew me as a devout, committed follower of Jesus; a man who gave his all to the work of the ministry. “How was it possible that I was no longer a Christian?” they wondered. Of course, over the years, as I have shared on this blog more and more about my life as a pastor, and the contradictions between my aspirations and reality, their high regard for me lessened. And that’s fine. As a pastor, I was a fallible, frail man, prone to the same struggles others had. As I spoke about my decades-long struggle with depression, people wondered if I was fit to be a pastor. It took me losing my faith for people to see me as I was. Do I regret this? No, but I do wish I had received love, kindness, and understanding instead of being treated like their enemy.
Are any old friends who are evangelicals remained friends with you afterward?
All of my former colleagues in the ministry distanced themselves from me. It’s been years since I heard from any of them. I suppose this was to be expected. The glue that held our relationships together was fidelity to the Bible and Evangelical doctrine.
Former church members largely went on with their lives. I will run into a few of them at the grocery or doctor’s office. We share pleasantries, talk about our children and grandchildren, and part with a handshake and a smile. Two former congregants remained friends with us, but one of them has since died from COVID, and the other, a man I have known for almost sixty years, and I are not as close as we used to be. He texted me recently about getting together for lunch. I’m not sure whether I want to do this.
The email writer wonders whether she should come out publicly about her loss of faith. She is wise to carefully ponder doing so. Once a person publicly declares their atheism or agnosticism, they can no longer control the narrative. And as I learned, you can set your world on fire by doing so.
The Bible gives some pretty good advice about counting the cost in Luke 14:28-30:
For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock him, Saying, This man began to build, and was not able to finish.
Who starts a building project without first counting the cost? The key phrase here is counting the cost. Every choice we make has a consequence. I think a loose definition of Newton’s Third Law of Motion applies here: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Foolish is the person who does not consider the consequences of saying for the first time to family, friends, colleagues, and acquaintances, I AM AN ATHEIST.
When I left Christianity and the ministry in 2008, my wife came along with me. Polly was a few steps behind, but close enough that we could hold hands. We spent many hours reading books and having long discussions about the past, the Bible, and Christianity in general. Dr. Bart Ehrman was nightly pillow talk for many months. When we finally came to the place where we said to one another “We are no longer Christians,” we knew that telling our family, friends, and acquaintances would cause a huge uproar. What should we do?
Polly decided to take the quiet approach, keeping her thoughts to herself. When asked, she would answer and try to explain, but if people didn’t ask, she felt no obligation to out herself. She still operates by that principle. There are people she works with who likely think she still goes to church on Sunday and is a fine Christian woman. Several years ago, a woman Polly had worked with for 20 years asked her if she was going to church on Easter. Polly replied, no. Her co-worker then asked, So do you go to church? Polly replied, No. And that was that. I am sure the gossip grapevine was buzzing. Did you know Polly doesn’t go to church? Why, her husband was a pastor! And they don’t go to church? Never mind that the woman asking the questions hadn’t been to church in over a decade. She stays home, watches “Christian” TV, and sends money to the TV preachers she likes.
I took the nuclear approach. I wrote an open letter to my friends, family, and former parishioners.
….
If I had to do it all over again, would I do it the same way? Would I write THE letter? Probably. My experiences have given me knowledge that is helpful to people who contact me about their own doubts about Christianity. I am often asked, what should I do? Should I tell my spouse? Should I tell my family, friends, or coworkers?
My standard advice is this: Count the cost. Weigh carefully the consequences. Once you utter or write the words I AM AN ATHEIST, you are no longer in control of what happens next. Are you willing to lose your friends, destroy your marriage, or lose your job? Only you can decide what cost you are willing to pay.
I know there is this notion that “Dammit, I should be able to freely declare what I am,” and I agree with the sentiment. We should be able to freely be who and what we are. If we lived on a deserted island, I suppose we could do so. However, we are surrounded by people. People we love. People we want and need in our life. Because of this, it behooves (shout out to the KJV) us to tread carefully.
I hope some of you will find this post helpful. My deepest desire is to help you on your journey. I am hoping that my walking before you can be of help to you as you decide how best to deal with and embrace your loss of faith.
This blog is here to remind those struggling with leaving Christianity or who have already left Christianity, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
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 had been wondering about this question and since you touched on it in this blog I wanted to ask, and it is about your wife’s stand on Christianity in general and her standing today for herself.
You mention that she walked away from church when you did. So my questions are:
Has she turned towards atheism as well? If she did, was it at the same time as you or later on?
If she did turn away from Christianity, how much of an influence were you with her denying her faith in Christ?
If she has become an atheist, doesn’t it seem odd that two completely committed Christians in the same family like this would just walk away and become atheists? I can see one, but I think the odds of two would be very high. I’m thinking this only because of the depth of commitments people make to their Christian faith. Walk away from church? Yes. But both turn to atheism?
These questions are only being asked if she has become an atheist.
Also, where do your kids stand with Christianity at this point?
Typically, I don’t answer questions about what my partner and children believe about God/Jesus/Christianity/Atheism. This blog is simply one man with a story to tell — and that’s me. Where the lives of my family intersect with telling my story, I am comfortable writing about them. However, when it comes to what they specifically believe and how they live out those beliefs, I leave it to Polly and our children to tell their own stories. (The same applies to our older grandchildren.) And the same goes for me too when they are asked about or confronted over something I have said or written. My family has been accosted at work, college, and while shopping by Christian zealots demanding that they answer for something I have written on this blog or for the local newspaper. Typically, my family tells such people that they don’t answer for me, and the best way to get their questions answered is to contact me directly.
That said, I would like to answer Bob’s questions briefly.
Yes, Polly and I walked away from Christianity together. This should come as no surprise since Polly and I have been doing virtually everything together for the past forty-eight years. We not only love one another, we also really like each other, 98.9 percent of the time, anyway (inside joke).
We have been married for more than forty-six years. I can count on two hands the days we have been apart. While each of us has hobbies and the like that the other isn’t interested in, for the most part, we have shared interests. Polly is my best friend. Why would I want to spend time with anyone else? Our marriage certainly isn’t perfect. Stick around for a fight and you’ll think we really don’t like each other. 🙂 However, disagreements quickly come and go, and then we sit down, eat dinner, drink a glass of wine, and watch whatever TV show is our favorite. The Bible says to not let the sun go down on your wrath, and we have practiced this maxim for almost five decades.
Thus, when we began to seriously question the central claims of Christianity, we spent countless hours talking about our beliefs and the Bible. I would read passages from books and we would discuss what I had read. While I certainly read a lot more books than Polly did — which has, until recent years, always been the case — she did a good bit of reading herself.
Our discussions were honest, open, and forthright. No demands were made of the other. Neither of us, at first, knew exactly where we were headed. We knew we were done with organized Christianity, but the future remained volatile and uncertain.
A week or so after we left the Ney United Methodist Church, we gathered our children together to talk with them about where we were in life. Remember, our six children were raised in a devout Evangelical Christian home. Their father and mother had been in the ministry their entire lives. Their father was the only pastor they had ever known. When we told our children that we were leaving Christianity, they were aghast over what that meant. I had been the family patriarch. Our children never had the freedom to decide whether or not to go to church. It was expected. Now they were being told that there were no expectations; that they were free to go to church, not go to church, worship God, not worship God, etc. In other words, I cut my children loose from their ties to their patriarchal father (though our three oldest sons had already begun to move away from the control I had over their lives).
I must admit that those first few months after this meeting were difficult, as our children tried to imagine life for their parents post-Jesus. Seventeen years later, everyone has gone their own way spiritually, and there’s little contention over matters of religion or lack thereof.
I have come to a place in life where I can no longer put off writing this letter. I have dreaded this day because I know what is likely to follow after certain people receive it. I have decided I can’t control how others will react to this letter, so it is far more important to clear the air and make sure everyone knows the facts about Bruce Gerencser.
I won’t bore you with a long, drawn out history of my life. I am sure each of you has an opinion about how I have lived my life and the decisions I have made. I also have an opinion about how I have lived my life and decisions I made. I am my own worst critic.
Religion, in particular Baptist Evangelical and Fundamentalist religion, has been the essence of my life, from my youth up. My being is so intertwined with religion that the two are quite inseparable. My life has been shaped and molded by religion and religion touches virtually every fiber of my being.
I spent most of my adult life pastoring churches, preaching, and being involved in religious work to some degree or another. I pastored thousands of people over the years, preached thousands of sermons, and participated in, and led, thousands of worship services.
To say that the church was my life would be an understatement. As I have come to see, the Church was actually my mistress, and my adulterous affair with her was at the expense of my wife, children, and my own self-worth.
Today, I am publicly announcing that the affair is over. My wife and children have known this for a long time, but now everyone will know.
The church robbed me of so much of my life and I have no intention of allowing her to have one more moment of my time. Life is too short. I am dying. We all are. I don’t want to waste what is left of my life chasing after things I now see to be vain and empty.
I have always been known as a reader, a student of the Bible. I have read thousands of books in my lifetime and the knowledge gained from my reading and studies have led me to some conclusions about religion, particularly the Fundamentalist, Evangelical religion that played such a prominent part in my life.
I can no longer wholeheartedly embrace the doctrines of the Evangelical, Fundamentalist faith. Particularly, I do not believe in the inerrancy of Scripture nor do I accept as fact the common Evangelical belief of the inspiration of Scripture.
Coming to this conclusion has forced me to reevaluate many of the doctrines I have held as true over these many years. I have concluded that I have been misinformed, poorly taught, and sometimes lied to. I can no longer accept as true many of the doctrines I once believed.
I point the finger of blame at no one. I sincerely believed and taught the things that I did and many of the men who taught me were honorable teachers. I don’t blame those who have influenced me over the years, nor do I blame the authors of the many books I have read. Simply, it is what it is.
I have no time to invest in the blame game. I am where I am today for any number of reasons and I must embrace where I am and move forward.
In moving forward, I have stopped attending church. I have not attended a church service since November of 2008. I have no interest of desire in attending any church on a regular basis. This does not mean I will never attend a church service again, but it does mean, for NOW, I have no intention of attending church services.
I pastored for the last time in 2003. Almost six years have passed by. I have no intentions of ever pastoring again. When people ask me about this I tell them I am retired. With the health problems that I have it is quite easy to make an excuse for not pastoring, but the fact is I don’t want to pastor.
People continue to ask me “what do you believe?” Rather than inquiring about how my life is, the quality of that life, etc., they reduce my life to what I believe. Life becomes nothing more than a set of religious constructs. A good life becomes believing the right things.
I can tell you this…I believe God is…and that is the sum of my confession of faith.
A precursor to my religious views changing was a seismic shift in my political views. My political views were so entangled with Fundamentalist beliefs that when my political views began to shift, my Fundamentalist beliefs began to unravel.
I can better describe my political and social views than I can my religious ones. I am a committed progressive, liberal Democrat, with the emphasis being on the progressive and liberal. My evolving views on women, abortion, homosexuality, war, socialism, social justice, and the environment have led me to the progressive, liberal viewpoint.
I know some of you are sure to ask, what does your wife think of all of this? Quite surprisingly, she is in agreement with me on many of these things. Not all of them, but close enough that I can still see her standing here. Polly is no theologian, She is not trained in theology as I am. She loves to read fiction. I was able to get her to read Bart Ehrman’s book Misquoting Jesus and she found the book to be quite an eye opener.
Polly is free to be whomever and whatever she wishes. If she wants to start attending the local Fundamentalist Baptist church she is free to do so, and even has my blessing. For now, she doesn’t. She may never believe as I believe, but in my new way of thinking that is OK. I really don’t care what others think. Are you happy? Are you at peace? Are you living a good, productive life? Do you enjoy life? Yes, to these questions is good enough for me.
I have six children, three of whom are out on their own. For many years I was the spiritual patriarch of the family. Everyone looked to me for the answers. I feel somewhat burdened over my children. I feel as if I have left them out on their own with no protection. But, I know they have good minds and can think and reason for themselves. Whatever they decide about God, religion, politics, or American League baseball is fine with me.
All I ask of my wife and children is that they allow me the freedom to be myself, that they allow me to journey on in peace and love. Of course, I still love a rousing discussion about religion, the Bible, politics, etc. I want my family to know that they can talk to me about these things, and anything else for that matter, any time they wish.
Opinions are welcome. Debate is good. All done? Let’s go to the tavern and have a round on me. Life is about the journey, and I want my wife and children to be a part of my journey and I want to be a part of theirs.
One of the reasons for writing this letter is to put an end to the rumors and gossip about me. Did you know Bruce is/or is not_____________? Did you know Bruce believes____________? Did you know Bruce is a universalist, agnostic, atheist, liberal ___________?
For you who have been friends or former parishioners I apologize to you if my change has unsettled you, or has caused you to question your own faith. That was never my intent.
The question is, what now?
Family and friends are not sure what to do with me.
I am still Bruce. I am still married. I am still your father, father in-law, grandfather, brother, uncle, nephew, cousin, and son-in-law. I would expect you to love me as I am and treat me with respect.
Here is what I don’t want from you:
Attempts to show me the error of my way. Fact is, I have studied the Bible and read far more books than many of you. What do you really think you are going to show me that will be so powerful and unknown that it will cause me to return to the religion and politics of my past?
Constant reminders that you are praying for me. Please don’t think of me as unkind, but I don’t care that you are praying for me. I find no comfort, solace, or strength from your prayers. Be my friend if you can, pray if you must, but leave the prayers in the closet. As long as God gets your prayer message, that will be sufficient.
Please don’t send me books, tracts, or magazines. You are wasting your time and money.
Invitations to attend your Church. The answer is NO. Please don’t ask. I used to attend Church for the sake of family, but no longer. It is hypocritical for me to perform a religious act of worship just for the sake of family. I know how to find a Church if I am so inclined, after all I have visited more than 125 churches since 2003.
Offers of a church to pastor. It is not the lack of a church to pastor that has led me to where I am. If I would lie about what I believe, I could be pastoring again in a matter of weeks. I am not interested in ever pastoring a church again.
Threats about judgment and Hell. I don’t believe in either, so your threats have no impact on me .
Phone calls. If you are my friend you know I don’t like talking on the phone. I have no interest in having a phone discussion about my religious or political views.
Here is what I do want from you:
I want you to unconditionally love me where I am and how I am.
That’s it.
Now I realize some (many) of you won’t be able to do that. My friendship, my familial relationship with you is cemented with the glue of Evangelical orthodoxy. Remove the Bible, God, and fidelity to a certain set of beliefs and there is no basis for a continued relationship.
I understand that. I want you to know I have appreciated and enjoyed our friendship over the years. I understand that you can not be my friend any more. I even understand you may have to publicly denounce me and warn others to stay away from me for fear of me contaminating them with my heresy. Do what you must. We had some wonderful times together and I will always remember those good times.
You are free from me if that is your wish.
I shall continue to journey on. I can’t stop. I must not stop.
Thank you for reading my letter.
Bruce
This letter, of course, caused a firestorm of epic proportions, one that is smoldering to this day. My life and career went up in smoke, with countless Evangelical friends, family members, and colleagues in the ministry, standing on the sidelines cheering as I burned. Polly’s Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) parents have both died since I first wrote this post, so the tensions with them no longer exist. What does remain is sadness over being unable to reconcile with them before they died. We were willing, but their Fundamentalist beliefs kept them from doing so. In the end, Jesus won.
As you can tell from the letter, I still believed in some sort of deity — a deistic God, perhaps? However, by the end of 2009, I was calling myself an atheist. Polly, on the other hand, embraced agnosticism. Her reasons for leaving Christianity are very different from mine, but that story is hers to tell.
I read in Bob’s question an accusation of sorts, one I have heard countless times: that Polly doesn’t think for herself; that she is an unbeliever today because I am. Out of all the things people have said about us over the past seventeen years, this by far is the most offensive (and perhaps Bob didn’t mean to be offensive, so I am going to give him the benefit of the doubt). For the record, Polly is a college-educated woman. She graduated second in her high school class. To suggest that she is a lemming following in my footsteps is absurd. Granted, Polly is quiet and reserved, and I am not. This fact might lead people to false conclusions. Here’s what I know: Polly knows exactly why she no longer believes in the Christian God. Her reasons for deconverting are somewhat different from mine, but she is far more hostile towards organized religion than I am. Again, perhaps she will share why this is so someday.
We have six children and sixteen grandchildren. One son attends the Catholic church with his family, and the rest of our children are largely indifferent towards religion. I suspect the NONE label best describes them. While none of our children has publicly said they are agnostics or atheists, they are certainly anti-Evangelical and generally adverse to the machinations of American Christianity. Politically, most of our children are progressives and liberals, with a smidge of conservatism and libertarianism stirred in. This is as specific as I can be without trampling on their right to control their own storyline. I respect the boundaries we have set, and if one of them ever decides to tell their story, I hope they will let me publish it here.
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.
Warning! Snark, a few stray cuss words, and a discussion of penis size ahead. You have been warned. Has this warning ever stopped anyone from reading? I doubt it, but at least it keeps easily offended Evangelicals from sending me emails that detail their outrage. I expect my writing to offend some Evangelicals. Would I be doing my job if it didn’t? After all, the Bible says the Word of God causes offense. So it is with the errant, fallible, but hopefully inspiring words of the one true God of this blog, Bruce Almighty. (Maybe you have seen the movie about me starring Jim Carrey?) Enjoy!
Several years ago, an ardent Calvinist — who claims to be a lawyer and an English major — left several comments on the post titled, Why I Became a Calvinist — Part Six. (His comments did not survive a later post update.) Evidently, my responses rubbed the fur on the proverbial cat the wrong way, and the offended Calvinist decided to let me know what he thought of me by emailing me a further comment. All spelling, grammar, and punctuation in the original. My response is indented.
Bruce, why do you have a problem listening (here, reading)?
Well, I do have a hearing problem. I have to turn the television up quite loud to hear the programs I watch. Outside of that, I do my best to listen to what others have to say, be it to my face or in a comment on this blog. Your problem, then, is not that I am not listening to you, but that I refuse to let your comments go unchallenged. I will call bullshit every time someone tells me that they came to their beliefs — in your case, five-point Evangelical Calvinism — just by reading the Bible. You were influenced religiously by several outside sources before you became a Calvinist. Thus, your mind was filled with presuppositions about the Bible, God, etc. This does not, in any way, make you or anyone else inferior. All it means is that it is impossible to disconnect ourselves from our past experiences and beliefs.
Why don’t you take what is said, and deal with that? or ask questions, instead of filling in the blanks with your biases and reaching your conclusions? I have a law degree — we’ll see what you make of that — and I expect some “evidentiary” considerations instead of your atheistic religious bias always telling me what my past was or is and what I’m currently doing and what everybody else is doing as a result of what they believe.
Lots of educated people read this blog, including lawyers, doctors, and college professors. Lots of fast food workers, factory employees, and domestic workers read it too. And then there are the preachers, evangelists, missionaries of various theological persuasions who read this blog. In fact, a large percentage of the thousands of people who read this blog are professing Christians — albeit not your flavor of Jesus Ice Cream®. I am not sure why you felt it necessary to mention that you are a lawyer, other than you wanted to assert your educational superiority over me — as if having a law degree has anything to do theology.
You came to a public forum and commented. I responded, as did several other people. That’s how the process works. (And, if you haven’t read the Comment Policy please do so.) All Evangelicals are given one opportunity to leave at least one comment. You were given an opportunity to leave several comments. What was your objective? Surely, according to your theology, most of the people who frequent this blog are dead in trespasses and sin, having minds and hearts alienated from God. We have nothing to offer someone who is as astute as you; someone filled with the Holy Ghost and knowledge of all things John-Boy-Calvin. Surely, you had to know that commenting was akin to casting pearls before swine. Yet, you commented anyway, whether out of divine conviction, a need to defend the doctrines of grace, or a need to hear yourself talk. And that’s fine. Evangelicals are free to comment on this blog. What they are NOT free to do is shit all over me or anyone else on this site with whom they disagree. Pointed, direct comments are always welcome. What follows in your comment below, is not. And, I might add, not very Christian.
(You could benefit from a formal secular education. Your religious education did not prepare you to think honestly to analyze facts.) I must admit I smirk and laugh at your small comments on Black Collar criminals, but otherwise you’re not credible to take apart everybody and everything because you think you’ve got all the answers based on your latest religious bias.
Now it is time for a dick measuring contest. Who, between us, knows more about the Bible, theology, and Christian history? When people such as yourself take this approach, I “smirk and laugh” at their ignorance. I know I spent over twenty thousand hours reading and studying the Bible, reading theological tomes, and listening to “sound” Biblical preaching (in person and on cassette tape). Thus, the real issue is not my lack of education/knowledge, but the fact that you disagree with my opinions, conclusions, and current beliefs. You said nothing in this comment that overturned my responses to your comments. In fact, you ignored what I said, choosing instead to be outraged and offended. And once an Evangelical reaches this level in the game, watch out, a double-barrel shot at me personally is sure to follow. And you, my friend, hit the target square. You have completed the game. You are a w-i-n-n-e-r!
Your story fits many who have fallen in Scripture, after it, are falling right up until today. You and your scoffers are nothing new and you have nothing new to go up against the God who endures you after he created you and set you up, apparently, as an example of those who do not inherit eternal life.
Yes, the Bible says all sorts of things about people such as Bruce Gerencser and his merry band of apostate followers. So what? I know what the Bible says, from Table of Contents to Concordance, the last book in the Bible. What you seemingly fail to understand is that the Bible has no authority over me. Once I came to realize that the Bible was NOT what Evangelicals say it is — the inspired, inerrant, infallible Word of God — its hold was broken. After leaving the ministry, I decided to go back and re-read the Bible, trying as much as possible to not let my previous theological training affect my interpretations and conclusions. I concluded that much of what I was taught and believed didn’t fit what I read, or at the very least that there were multiple ways to interpret particular texts. Dr. Bart Ehrman, a renowned New Testament scholar, suggested reading each book of the Bible as a stand-alone book, letting each author speak for himself. I recommend every person do this, Christian or not. Of course, such an approach is death to Evangelical theology with its complex systematic theologies, hermeneutics, presuppositions, and harmonizations. Once freed from these things, the Biblical text took on completely different meanings. I briefly mentioned one of them to you in my comment: that the first three chapters of Genesis do not support Evangelical Trinitarian monotheism; that there were/are actually multiple Gods; that monotheism is a later theological development; that it can be argued today that most Christians are still polytheists with their worship of the Gods Father, Son, and Spirit. (A good book on this subject is The Evolution of God by Robert Wright.)
My conclusion was simple, albeit one birthed out of much intellectual and psychological pain and struggle: Christianity no longer made any sense. I wrote about this in the post titled, The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.
You are wicked, you were wicked from birth, you demonstrate knowledge doesn’t save you, you claim you had a faith and shrank back from it, you do not fear God — but likely will fear an expectation of judgment soon. When you have faith that is a gift from God, simultaneous with Him taking up residence in you, you don’t get deconverted.
I love being w-i-c-k-e-d, oh so wicked. Time for a sex orgy, complete with an aborted fetus hors d’oeuvre. Can’t stop there though. There’s more sinning for me to do. I am a bad man; an evil man; a depraved man; an apostate man; a servant of Satan; a man who hates the thrice holy Evangelical God. You should meet some of the wicked commenters on this blog. Why, their vile behavior puts me to shame. They spend every waking hour thinking about ways to destroy Christianity. And when they are not doing that, they have sex with the lights on and burp without saying excuse me. Or, then again, maybe we have normal lives just like yours save for believing in your God, or any other deity for that matter.
Your remonstrations (Don’t you love that word, a throw back to the days of Jacob Arminius, John Calvin, and the Synod of Dort.) and condemnations have no effect on me or other atheists. Countless commenters before you have come to this blog to set the ex-Evangelical preacher Bruce Gerencser straight. At least you didn’t quote any Bible verses, so thanks for that. That said, your comments are rooted in your peculiar interpretation of the Protestant Bible. What you fail to see and understand is that the Bible no longer has any power over me. I have figured out the magician’s trick, and I am no longer fooled by his sleight of hand. So it is with the Bible. Once the Biblical authors are left to their own devices and not hemmed in by sectarian beliefs and practices, the Bible loses its supernatural influence. It may or may not still be a book worth reading, but I no longer have to worry about its powerless threatenings. There’s No Heaven, No Hell, No God, No Jesus, No Worries, Bro.
You never were anything more than a nominal Christian enamoured of human competitions for ideas… you’ve just moved along the continuum of unbelief, lately blathering that science has now come along to defeat the human idea of god.
How can you possibly make such a judgement about my character and past work as a pastor? You don’t know me personally, and you haven’t even bothered to invest much time in reading my autobiographical writing. (You might want to start on the WHY page.) The people who knew me as a pastor will all tell you that I was a devoted, committed follower of Jesus Christ; that my life gave evidence of someone who knew Jesus personally.
I know you are having a hard time squaring my past with what you believe theologically. I get it, but that’s not my problem. I once was saved, and now I am not. I once was a Christian, and now I am not. I expect readers to accept my “testimony” at face value, and I promise to do the same for them. When you said you were a Christian, I believed you. I have never said to a Christian, “oh you aren’t a ‘real’ Christian” because I found some defect or contradiction in their story. Atheism allows me the freedom to accept people as they are, including you. How about you do the same? Oh, wait, you can’t! The B-i-b-l-e says . . .
It’s a good thing you came clean cause churches are filled with nominal Christians that don’t wash out or don’t wash soon enough. They are the bane of Christianity, but God is and will be glorified in his antithetical use of them.
Of course, you are the “real” deal, right? You are the gold standard by which to judge the faith of others. You are the grand prize behind door number two on “Calvinism is Right.” This is a common approach used by Calvinists. A former ministerial colleague of mine, Jose “Joe” Maldonado, preached a multi-part sermon series about me using this very approach. Unable to square what he knew about me with his Calvinistic soteriology, Joe determined that I was never a True Christian®; that I was a deceiver, liar, and apostate. You can read more about his “exposé” here: Jose Maldonado Says I Never Was a Christian.
I have failed at many things in my life, and there are certainly things that I did as a pastor that I regret or wish I had the opportunity to do differently. That said, most of the people who called me pastor would tell you that I genuinely loved and cared for them; that I taught them the Word of God and encouraged them in faith and holiness. My preaching was passionate and honest. Attempting to tear me down will not work. I have survived almost two decades of deconstruction by countless Evangelical zealots. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but emails and blog comments will not hurt me. I know what I know, and people who knew me do too. You have constructed in your mind a version of Bruce Gerencser that has no connection with reality. This is a common problem. You read a few posts, concluded what kind of man I am, rendered judgment, and then, with a wing and a prayer, let me know what you thought. Mission accomplished, Goose.
Go back to school and take some general degree requirements like Western Civ, Logic, Math, Anthropology. You’ll enjoy them, you can be the “teacher” student and get some human worship go’n there for you. Eat, drink and be merry, cause tomorrow you die. (P.S. Was an English major so was compelled to correct my earlier reply, albeit after I hit send.)
I’ll ignore your final attempt to passively-aggressively attack my education and intellectual capabilities. I get it, you have a dick the size of John Holmes and I have one the size of ex-President Trump. You are a lawyer, an erudite intellectual, and I am not. Sigh. (Please see Why I Use the Word “Sigh.”) Believe what you will, it matters not.
I have no idea what you are talking about when it comes to your earlier comments. Everything you wrote belongs to you and you alone. Maybe the Holy Ghost changed your words? While I do have an editor, she does not edit comments, and the only time I do so is when a commenter violates the Comment Policy by posting a bunch of proof texts.
You have said your piece, and now I have said mine. Per the comment policy, you have used up your opportunity to put in a good word for Jesus. Have a blessed day. All honor, praise, and glory to Loki.
Saved by Reason,
As is my custom, I sent this man a link to this post (in 2019). He replied:
Since your comments fabricate facts, I may read your e-mail sometime, but am busy reveling in Israel’s recognition by the U.S. as “sovereign [little “sovereign” that is] over the Golan Heights” that they rightfully occupied in the Six Day War (Netanyahu is beside himself), and have defended ever since — sorry bud, that’s how land is sorted out in this life (occupy and defend). (They do offer classes on War in accredited secular colleges and you would benefit from signing up for a few, I did.) Oh yeh, and then there’s the glory reveling in the Mueller Report, watching your new Dem-party-media muckrakers shrink in embarrassment at their profiting from lies, hate, dissembling, promoting riots — yeh, all that good you God haters do. The general revelation of God through His creation is enough to call you into God’s court for believing in Him (sort of salvation); but, the general revelation of God in manifesting Himself through the nation Israel is undeniable to anybody seriously looking for truth, as opposed to people like you that try to wipe it from the face of their minuscule time on earth. You like to you read you say, try the old paperback, “The Indestructible Jews” (I don’t even think it was written by a Christian).
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.
