Tag: Leaving Christianity

  • The Wax Box

    A wax box is a moisture-resistant corrugated cardboard container coated with wax.

    Almost seventy years ago, I was born into a closed wax box; one bounded by biology, geography, race, education, religion, and economics.

    The box kept me safe from the outside elements; safe from what preachers called “the world.”

    Over time, constant exposure to the sun and the elements degraded the wax coating on the box.

    One day, as the storms of “the world” raged outside, the top of the box began to leak; an imperceptible drip.

    In came “the world . . . .”

    Over time, the drip became water running down the inside of the box.

    Imperceptibly, the water degraded the structure and strength of the box, making it increasingly unstable.

    Other box inhabitants: parents, grandparents, preachers, and youth leaders — assured me everything was fine. I knew it wasn’t. I could see the water running down the sagging cardboard wall.

    One day, curiosity got the best of me. Making sure no one was looking, I walked over to the wet cardboard wall covered with signs warning the wall was structurally unsafe. Ignoring the warnings, I walked up to the wall to give it a close-up inspection.

    Interesting.

    Hmm . . .

    I wonder.

    Should I?

    In a snap of the synapse, I decided . . . well, I chose . . . dammit . . . okay, the sum of my human experience led me to see if I could put my finger through the wet, decaying box.

    Quickly and easily my finger went through the box wall, letting in bright light and faint, never-experienced smells.

    Thanks to the light coming through the finger hole, I was able to see, for the first time, that the wall was so degraded, I could easily push through the wall if I but dared to do so.

    I spent days contemplating what I had within in box and what I could lose if I left. Years later, I realized I underestimated both.

    Eventually, curiosity drew me back to the wet, sagging wall.

    In front of the wall now stood the preachers and authority figures quoting Bible verses, warning that leaving the box would bring discipline, judgment, physical harm, and death. Several preachers told me that if I dared to rebel and leave the box, I could never return.

    These warnings no longer seemed true to me. They sounded more like the words of desperate men afraid that their box cult would be exposed; that I would speak out of school about my fifty years in the box.

    I pushed the powerless men aside, and through the box wall I went, exposing myself to bright light and strange, wonderful, diverse smells.

    What is this new world that lies before me? Why was I never told about the life I could have outside of the box?

    Did the preachers lie? Did my parents lie? Did my Bible college professors lie? Intentionally or not, they lied. They hid the truth from me. They were far more interested in telling me what to believe than teaching me how to think. That which they told me was the “truth” was anything but.

    Today, I am twenty years removed from the day I pushed through the wet, sagging corrugated cardboard. I never returned. I couldn’t. There was nothing to go back to. I was banned from the now-collapsed box, and labeled as an apostate, false prophet, and a hater of the one, true box.

    I really was someone who no longer needed the box. I was free . . . Box inhabitants confidently told me that real freedom was only found in the box. I smiled and said, “I’ve come too far to look back now.”

  • Why Am I Different From My Bible College Classmates?

    bruce gerencser 2002
    Bruce Gerencser, 2002

    During the 1970s, I attended Midwestern Baptist College in Pontiac, Michigan. It was there that I met my partner, Polly. Started in the 1950s by Dr. Tom Malone, Midwestern was a school known for turning out preachers. Most women attending Midwestern were there to snag themselves a man. My partner was no exception. She believed she was called to be a pastor’s wife. I was studying to be a pastor, so I suppose you could say our divine callings matched and our marriage was made in Heaven — or something like that, anyway. (We celebrated forty-eight of marriage last July.) All we knew for sure was that God called us to build churches and evangelize the lost. Everything we were taught at Midwestern had these two things as their goal. We left Midwestern in 1979 and embarked on a twenty-five-year journey that took us to Evangelical churches in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Virtually everything we did was in fulfillment of God’s call upon our lives, yet, today, we are no longer Christians and it has been more than nineteen years since we darkened the doors of a church. What happened to us?

    I cannot and will not speak for Polly, but I can say, for myself, that the Christian narrative no longer makes sense to me. I wrote about this in a post titled, The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense. Most readers know my story, so I won’t retell it here. New readers are encouraged to read the posts found on the WHY? page for more information about my life as a pastor and my subsequent deconversion. My story has been deconstructed by countless Evangelical zealots determined to invalidate my past. Try as they might, the fact remains that I once was a committed, devoted, sold-out follower of Jesus Christ; a man who hungered and thirsted after righteousness for his name’s sake; a man who believed every word of the Bible was true; a man who preached the Christian gospel to countless people. Them there are the facts, regardless of what my critics might say. I know what I know because I was there when it happened. Who better to know and tell my story than me? That said, I do ponder the question, Why am I Different From the My College Classmates? Some of them have moved beyond the Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) training they received at Midwestern, yet they still believe. Sadly, for most of my college classmates, their beliefs have changed very little, if at all, over the years. Many of them still attend or pastor IFB churches. Oh, they might agree with me about the crazy rules at Midwestern, (please see Thou Shalt Not Touch: The Six-Inch Rule) but their core theological beliefs are decidedly Fundamentalist. (Please see Are Evangelicals Fundamentalists?) Why do they still hang on to these beliefs and I don’t?

    The easy answer would be to call all of them stupid hillbillies, but that would be a cop-out. Many of my former classmates have wonderful families and ministerial careers. According to the theological and social standards of IFB Christianity, they are, in every way, successful. I have no doubt that many or even most of them are true-blue believers, completely and totally committed to IFB doctrine, thinking, and way of life. Yes, some of them now consider themselves garden-variety Evangelicals, but most of my classmates still believe the fundamentals taught to them by their pastors and their professors at Midwestern.

    If I had to pick one reason for why my former classmates still believe, it is because they were taught to never, ever doubt the Bible and its teachings. All of them believe in some form of Biblical inerrancy, so the foundation of their lives is THUS SAITH THE LORD. Insulated from contrary or challenging thoughts, they see no reason to question their beliefs. Souls are lost, Hell is hot, and Jesus is coming soon. They have no time for doubting or questioning their beliefs. When Jesus comes again, they want to be found faithfully serving him, not reading Bart Ehrman’s latest book. For me, however, I reached a place in the late 1980s where I seriously questioned the doctrines I had been taught at Midwestern. I ultimately abandoned them and embraced Evangelical Calvinism. Calvinism allowed me to study theology and read books outside of the IFB rut. While the Calvinists I associated with were still quite Fundamentalist theologically and socially, they valued education and intellectual pursuit. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your perspective), the more I studied and read, the more questions and doubts I had. This is why people who knew me well told me that BOOKS were my problem, and what I needed to do is stop reading books and only read the Bible; the King James Bible. Of course, saying this to a book lover is akin to telling a cocaine addict to stop using drugs. I was addicted to intellectual pursuit, and I doggedly followed the path until it led me out of Evangelicalism, out of the Emergent church, out of progressive Christianity, and right on down the slippery slope to agnosticism/atheism and humanism. I ended up where I am today because I couldn’t stop my questions and doubts. I ended up where I am today because Christianity had no satisfactory answers for my questions. Oh, they had “answers” but I found them to be hollow, circular, and, at times, farcical; answers that might placate those within the Evangelical bubble, but unsatisfactory to anyone on the outside looking in.

    There are days when I wish I could be like my former college classmates. I see much in their lives I admire. However, I am unwilling to forsake the meat and potatoes of intellectual and scientific inquiry for the pottage of Evangelical Christianity. I have read and studied too much to go back to the garlic and leeks of Egypt. I would rather be known as a Midwestern Baptist College-trained atheist than a coward who couldn’t face doubts and questions head-on. “One” may truly be the loneliest number, but I would rather stand alone for truth than embrace theological dogma. If Midwestern and Dr. Tom Malone taught me anything, it was the importance of standing for truth and principle and being willing to hold to your beliefs and convictions no matter what. So, in that regard, Midwestern played a crucial part in my deconversion from Christianity.

    Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.

    Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.

    You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

  • Why Bruce Gerencser Really Became an Atheist According to Shepherds Theological Seminary

    atheist immorality

    An unattributed author at Shepherds Theological Seminary, in Cary, North Carolina, wrote an article titled Responding Biblically to Atheism, detailing why people like me become atheists:

    The fool’s decision to say in his heart that there is no God, then, is an act of the will, not the intellect. Derek Kidner states, “The assertion, There is no God, is in fact treated in Scripture not as a sincere if misguided conviction, but as an irresponsible gesture of defiance.” Fools say there is no God because “they are corrupt” (Ps. 14:1).

    This is a critical point with regard to atheism. Atheism is a moral choice of the will. James Spiegel states it well: “Atheism is not at all a consequence of intellectual doubt. Such doubts are mere symptoms of the root cause—moral rebellion. For the atheist, the missing ingredient is not evidence but obedience.”

    ….

    The presence of this general revelation of God in His creation explains why there is no reasoned, philosophical refutation of atheism in Scripture. The evidence is such that unbelief is inexcusable. Indeed, only a fool would reject this evidence.

    ….

    As Spiegel explains, “The ‘wickedness’ of the unbeliever works to ‘suppress’ what is manifest in nature.

    ….

    Every person is a created being who lives in a divinely created world, and that creation—both physical and in terms of the imago dei—makes it abundantly clear that a Creator exists. To reject the existence of God is to suppress the truth that is inherently known by every person as created in God’s image.

    ….

    Atheism is not the result of objective assessment of evidence, but of stubborn disobedience; it does not arise from the careful application of reason but from willful rebellion. Atheism is the suppression of truth by wickedness, the cognitive consequence of immorality. In short, it is sin that is the mother of unbelief.

    Atheism is a denial of what atheists—and all persons—know is true. It is essentially an attempt at self-deception. Some, no doubt, have been more successful than others at deceiving themselves, but this is the biblical assessment of their atheism.

    What are we to make, then, of the many philosophical, psychological, scientific, and historical arguments atheists consistently present to back their assertion that there is no God? The biblical perspective would suggest that the “skeptical objections are the atheists’ façade, a scholarly veneer masking the real causes of their unbelief—causes that are moral and psychological in nature.”17

    So, here is the path to atheism. A person engages in immorality of one sort or another. He realizes by way of conscience or exposure to biblical truth that such conduct is morally wrong and an offense to the true God.

    When confronted with the revelation of God in Jesus Christ and his written Word, a sinner can fall before God in repentance and faith or remain unrepentant and continue in rebellion against the Creator. The atheist not only has chosen the latter but also has chosen to justify his choice by proclaiming that God does not exist.

    The intellectual arguments denying God’s existence, then, are simply the justification for the moral choice to reject God and live free of moral restraints. E. Michael Jones says it succinctly:

    “Those who commit evil will be troubled by its pangs, and in their trouble they have only two alternatives: they can either conform their actions to the moral law or conform the moral law to their actions. The former case calls for repentance, the latter rationalization.”

    But is this pattern stated too simplistically? After all, can we really point in every case to some particular immoral act that led the atheist to rejection of God? In other words, does the Bible’s description match reality? First, there may not be any one specific moral failure that leads a person to atheism. It could be an accumulation of failures or simply a growing desire to be free to live immorally or at least without the restraints, disapproval, and threatened judgment of a living, holy God. Such thoughts and desires, of course, cannot be easily detected, but they are still immoral.

    Second, while most atheists present their decision to reject belief in God in terms of intellect and reasoning, some are quite forthright and explicit in confirming that their journey began with immorality. For example, former Church of Christ minister John Loftus admits his turn to atheism began with an adulterous affair. Aldous Huxley stated, “We objected to the morality because it interfered with our sexual freedom.”

    Regardless of what can be clearly observed in life, the Bible offers the only sure explanation for atheism. It is sin, disobedience, rebellion.

    Sigh, I know. Same shit, new day. Everything said above can be summarized with two lies: Atheists suppress the truth in unrighteousness and desire to commit (sexual) immorality. Neither of these claims is true. Besides, as the Black Collar Crime Series clearly shows, the very clerics pontificating about atheist immorality have their own problems, not only with sexual immorality, but with sex crimes.

    Shepherds Theological Seminary claims:

    The Christian church has felt the attacks and the need to respond to atheists’ philosophical arguments. The church also has felt the heartache of formerly professing Christians renouncing the faith and proudly embracing atheism.

    Who are examples of professing Christians who have renounced the faith and PROUDLY embraced atheism?

    Just to name a few: Bart Compolo, son of Tony Compolo, prominent sociologist and representative of the evangelical left; Abraham Piper, son of the popular pastor-theologian John Piper; Ken Daniels, formerly a missionary with Wycliffe Bible Translators; Bruce Gerencser, a former pastor in the Baptist Bible Fellowship; and John Loftus, former pastor in the Church of Christ and graduate of Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. In addition to these are many others who have renounced Christianity but would fit better into the category of agnostic—one who says he or she does not or cannot know if there is a God. Much of what is said in this article will relate to agnostics as well.

    No, I was never a pastor in the Baptist Bible Fellowship. Not sure where they got that from. Outside of that, I am pleased to be named with Bart Campolo, Abraham Piper, Ken Daniels, and John Loftus. Talk about a rogues’ gallery.

    The author of this article lives in deliberate denial of why people, especially pastors and other church professionals, are deconstructing, and often leaving Evangelical Christianity altogether. Contrary to the aforementioned article, there are a plethora of reasons followers of Jesus embrace atheism/agnosticism. Rarely do people deconvert just so they can commit immorality. It is, at best, an exception to the rule. I know a lot of Evangelical-preachers-turned-atheists. Most of them left Christianity for intellectual reasons. This is a fact, as any cursory research will show. The folks as Shepherds Theological Seminary can’t bear to abide by such a thought, so they lie about why people actually deconvert. They can’t fathom someone leaving Evangelicalism for intellectual reasons, so they make up stories about why people deconvert. Perhaps those liars-for-Jesus might want to read what the Bible says about liars. They go where, exactly? The Lake of Fire. The same place the hypocrites at Shepherds Theological Seminary have consigned atheists. And as far as immorality is concerned, either the moralizers at Shepherds Theological Seminary aren’t paying attention to the rampant sexual sin in Evangelicalism or they have their own “secret” sins they are trying to hide by besmirching atheists. Classic “whataboutism,” I’d say. Look over there at those evil immoral atheists, all the while Evangelical preachers are fucking their secretaries, screwing church members, molesting children, and committing the very same immoral behaviors they say atheists are doing.

    Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.

    Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.

    You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

  • Questions: Bruce, It Seems Like You Never Really Left Jesus

    bruce gerencser and jesus

    Joel asked:

    Why have you stayed on the topic of God/Jesus for so long? It seems like you’ve never really fully left Jesus. At least, thats what it seems like.

    This seems more like an accusation than it does a question, but I will assume good faith, and answer accordingly.

    I have spent my entire life talking and writing about God, Jesus, the Bible, and Christianity. In 2007, I started blogging, and the following year I deconverted, walking away from Evangelical Christianity after fifty years.

    Joel seems to think I should have stopped talking about Jesus after I left Christianity; that since I am no longer a Christian, I have nothing meaningful to say about the faith once delivered to the saints. Let’s suppose I spent my life as a career military officer. General Bruce, I like the ring of that. After a long career in the Army, I retired. Would anyone expect me not to talk about the military or my service any more? Would I be expected to “move on”? Of course not.

    So it is with me. Christianity made a deep, lasting impression on me, especially Evangelicalism and the Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) church movement. It is what I know. I can’t excise the first fifty years of my life. Sorry, but that’s not how life works.

    What I have to share is a lived life, and I suspect that’s what upsets Evangelicals so much. I lived, practiced and believed the teachings of the Bible — fallibly, yet sincerely. There was nothing in my life that suggested I was anything but a committed follower of Jesus. Yet, I did insult to the spirit of grace and trampled under my feet the blood of the covenant. I spit in the face of Jesus, rejecting his atoning work on the cross.

    It is this rejection of faith many Evangelicals can’t or won’t understand. How dare I reject he who has made such differences in their lives. How dare I reject that which they devote their lives to. How dare I live without being constrained by the teachings of the Bible. And it is my defiance that pisses off so many Evangelicals, so much so that they turn to violence and character assassination. Just today, a local Evangelical man named Daniel Gray wrote a letter to the editor of the Defiance Crescent-News, saying that I never was a pastor; that he can’t find anyone who says I was a pastor anywhere. (I pastored three local churches in Montpelier, Fayette, and West Unity, respectively.) This, of course, is an unadulterated lie. This same man said several years ago that that I was being investigated by the State of Ohio for performing “illegal” weddings. This, too, was an ugly lie.

    Rare is the Evangelical that can accept me on my own terms. Because they can’t make my story fit in their peculiar religious box, they reject what I say out of hand. Yet, millions of readers over the past twenty years have thought differently. They value my writing, though in dark, depressed moments I wonder why. They find encouragement and help from my words, even though they don’t always agree with me. More than a few people thank me for being instrumental in their deconversions.

    first atheist church

    And this upsets many Evangelicals. Not only did I deconvert, I am leading other people down a path that leads to Hell. Why can’t I just mind my own business, and move on? Of course, lost on these folks is the fact that they, themselves, do not mind their own business. They routinely evangelize and proselytize, whether non-Christians want to hear it or not. Believing they have a mandate from God, Evangelicals fan out across the Internet, putting a word in for Jesus (or Trump) everywhere they go.

    And that’s fine. You know, that First Amendment thing. Evangelicals are free to witness and preach, both privately and publicly. Why should it not be the same for non-Christians, especially atheists?

    Joel has been reading my blog for some time, yet he fails to understand why I do what I do. That’s not my fault. My motivations are clear to anyone who is paying attention.

    Evangelicalism is not neutral. As one of the largest sects in the United States , Evangelicalism has a lot of influence on our culture. None of us can escape this influence. Our current president, arguably the worst ever, was put into office by Evangelical voters. Evangelicals now hold some of the highest, most important political offices in the land. And what are they doing with this power? They are using it to take back America for God. They are using it to enshrine Christianity as the state’s official religion. Worse, they are the people primarily behind Project 2025.

    And dare we ignore who has been behind the raging culture wars for the past forty-plus years? Evangelical Christians. As as father of six children and grandfather to sixteen grandchildren, do I not have a vested interest in their future, especially when I see the United States running headlong into fascism, Christian Nationalism, and an Evangelical form of theocracy? Silence is not an option for me, nor is it for many of the people who read this blog.

    So, to Joel’s false claim that I have never left Jesus, with a British accent I say, poppycock. There can be no question, except for the deliberately blind, that I am no longer a Christian; that the reason I continue to share my story and critique Evangelical Christianity is because it is a threat to social progress and the future of the United States.

    I intend to “stay on the topic of God/Jesus” for as long as Evangelicals drag the dead carcass of Jesus into the public square, touting him as some sort of panacea for the ills of society. I intend to stay the course as long as Evangelicals publicly promote irrational beliefs, especially when demanding everyone believe as they do under threat of eternal fire and brimstone.

    When the Joels of the world retire to their houses of worship to incessantly talk about God/Jesus/Bible/Sin/Salvation, I will shutter this blog. Until then, I intend to speak my mind, as is the right of every American—though fascist Donald Trump, with Evangelical approval, is trying to limit the free speech of those who disagree with him.

    This is a battle of worldviews; a battle for the soul of our country. As long as Evangelicals demand Christianity be the state’s religion and the Bible the law of the land, they should expect pushback from me.

    Unless Joel and his merry band of Evangelicals intends to cede the battlefield, I intend to stand my ground—even when I can no longer physically stand.

    Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.

    Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.

    You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

  • My Season of Rebellion — IFB-Style

    rebellious Bruce Gerencser

    1971-72 found me attending ninth grade at Central Junior High School in Findlay, Ohio. This was a rough year for me. In the space of a year, my parents divorced, I contracted mumps and chicken pox, and had my first major health problem — unexplained joint swelling, especially in my elbows and feet, which was attributed to “growing pains.”

    My parents soon married new people. My dad married a nineteen-year-old girl with a baby, and my mom married her first cousin, a recent parolee from a Texas prison. Life as I knew it was over. A few months later, Dad moved us to Tucson, Arizona, hoping to avoid bill collectors.

    In the fall of my tenth-grade year, I went through a short period of rebellion — Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB)-style.

    I started dressing down for church, often wearing combat boots, jeans, and white t-shirts to church.

    I moved from the front of the church to the back of the church. This allowed me to avoid the critical eye of church pastors. Until it didn’t. One Sunday, Dr. Russell Anderson — of Anderson-Hyles College fame — was preaching at Trinity Baptist Church in Findlay — the church I continued to attend after my parents divorced. On this day, I was sitting in the far back of the church with my friends. We were whispering, passing notes, and horsing around. Our behavior caught Anderson’s attention. He decided the slim, athletic, six-foot redhead was the instigator, and publicly called me out, thinking I would start paying attention to his droning sermon. I, of course, ignored him, and several minutes later, he stopped the service and asked one of the ushers, Ralph Ashcraft — who had two rebellious sons of his own — to sit next to me and straighten me out. This only fueled my anger and rebellion.

    One Saturday, I was helping paint the church annex. One of the pastors came in, looked at my fine work, and proceeded to holler at me. I threw the roller in the paint pan and said, “Do it yourself, then.” This did not go over well. The senior pastor tattled on me, and soon the youth pastor tracked me down to let me know I couldn’t speak to THE pastor in such a manner.This continued to fuel my anger and rebellion.

    Another weekend, I was hanging out my my friend Sonny. We decided to call a local tow company and have them tow away Sonny’s neighbor’s car. When asked for a phone number, Sonny gave them mine. Our prank failed, but a Findlay police officer was waiting to talk to me when I arrived home.

    Later that year, Sonny and I stole his dad’s 1955 Chevrolet one night and took it for a joy ride, including turfing numerous yards. Our exploits made the local newspaper. Fortunately, we were never caught.

    In the fall, the church held a youth group hayride at Bob and Bonnie Bolander’s home. As I was sitting there with a group of my friends, dressed in stylish my boots, jeans, and t-shirt, Bob came to where we were sitting and gave us stern instructions. I proceeded to tell him, in glorious rebellious fashion to “fuck off.” That didn’t go well, but it did give me street credit with my homies.

    It should have been evident that I was struggling. I was a hurting kid whose parents had destroyed his life. Not one pastor or congregant paid much attention to me, even though the church had become my new family. No one asked how I was feeling or what they could do for me. People weren’t mean; they were indifferent.

    And then one night EVERYTHING changed. In a moment, my rebellion disappeared, and God wonderfully saved me. Two weeks later, I confessed before the church that God was calling me to preach. For the next thirty-five years, I devoted myself to loving, following, and worshiping Jesus. I spent twenty-five of those years pastoring Evangelical churches full-time in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. I was a true-blue follower of Jesus, until I wasn’t. In 2008, I left Christianity. I am now a rebellious atheist and humanist.

    Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.

    Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.

    You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

  • Bruce, You Are Interpreting Those Verses Wrong

    praise god for me

    I recently received the following question from a Christian man named Joel. My response follows.

    It’s not true that you can’t be saved.

    Is this a general statement or a specific one? Is Joel claiming universal salvation? How does Joel KNOW that it is NOT true that I can’t be saved?” It is clear from the Bible that apostates and reprobates cannot be saved. They have crossed a line of no return.

    Further the book of Hebrews says:

    For it is impossible to restore again to repentance those who have once been enlightened and have tasted the heavenly gift and have shared in the Holy Spirit and have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come and then have fallen away, since they are crucifying again the Son of God to their own harm and are holding him up to contempt. (Hebrews 6:4-6)

    Let’s take a careful look at these verses.

    The text says “For it is impossible.” What is “impossible?” To restore a Christian who has fallen away.

    Have I been enlightened, tasted the Heavenly gift, shared in the Holy Spirit, tasted the good word of God, and power of the age to come? Yes.

    It is clear from Scripture and personal testimony that I was a follower or Jesus. Yet, I am an atheist today. Why is that? The above text answers this question by saying that I have fallen away and crucified Jesus afresh, making a mockery of him.

    Hebrews 10:26-30 says:

    For if we willfully persist in sin after having received the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins but a fearful prospect of judgment and a fury of fire that will consume the adversaries. Anyone who has violated the law of Moses dies without mercy “on the testimony of two or three witnesses.” How much worse punishment do you think will be deserved by those who have spurned the Son of God, profaned the blood of the covenant by which they were sanctified, and outraged the Spirit of grace? For we know the one who said, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay.” And again, “The Lord will judge his people.” It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. (Hebrews 10:26-30)

    Have I spurned Jesus, profaned the blood of the covenant, and outraged the Spirit? Have I received the knowledge of the truth? Yes, and this means there no longer remains a sacrifice for my sins. No blood atonement, no salvation.

    It is clear from Hebrews 6 and 10, that I am unsaved and can never be saved again.

    That verse that says about how it’s impossible for a person who was once enlightened, etc. and who has seen the powers of the come…

    You haven’t seen the powers of the age to come, but a somewhat watered-down version of Christianity, where it was taught in IFB seminary that the gifts of the Holy Spirit are not for today. That wasn’t your fault that you were taught that.

    Sigh. Joel wrongly believes that I haven’t seen “the powers of the age of come.” Based on this faulty conclusion, Joel believes I was taught a watered-down version of Christianity. He provides no evidence for his claim. Joel just asserts his claim and expects everyone to just trust him.

    I suspect Joel is either a pentecostal or charismatic Christian. What Joel does not know is that I was a non-cessationist; someone who believes the gifts of the Holy Spirit are in force and operational today. A cessationist is someone who believes the gifts of the spirit are not for today. That said, much of what goes on in Pentecostal/Charismatic churches is downright heretical. No “miracle” is out of bounds, so healing evangelists report crazy claims.

    I attended Midwestern Baptist College in the mid-70s to train for the ministry. According to Joel, Midwestern taught me a watered-down version of Christianity. Maybe, but Joel is unaware of the fact that I left the Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) church movement in the 80s — 20 years before I deconverted. There goes another straw man up in smoke. I just love setting fire to straw men. 🙂

    I think you just got discouraged and went AWOL for awhile.

    I left Christianity almost 20 years ago. So much for going “AWOL for awhile.” In other words. my atheism is temporary, and to quote Arnold Schwarzenegger, “I’ll be back.” This is patently untrue. My atheism is not a temporary viewpoint. I will, however, get saved for $5,000,000. 🙂

    Joel thinks the reason I left Christianity is because I “got discouraged.” I am sure discouragement played a part, but the primary reason I left Christianity is this: the central claims of Christianity are false. They no longer make any sense to me.

    You were seeing  a very lukewarm version of “church”.

    How could Joel possibly know this? Did he attend any of the churches I pastored? No. Did he know I left the IFB church movement 20 years before I deconverted? No. Had Joel gone to any of the churches I pastored, he would have learned “lukewarm” was not in my vocabulary. I was a committed Christian who took seriously the teachings of the Bible and tried to put my faith into practice every day of the week,

    Joel, you might want to peruse the posts on the WHY? page.

    Saved by Reason,

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  • The One Thing Necessary for Deconstruction

    deconstruction chopping a tree

    The word “deconstruction” is hotly debated these days, especially among Evangelical Christians. Rather than spend energy debating the meaning of the term, Let me explain how I colloquially use the word. Deconstruction is the process of stripping your beliefs bare and reinvestigating the claims that gave rise to these beliefs. The process is a lot like stripping the inside of a house and rebuilding it. This is exactly what I did two decades ago. Long before I embraced atheism, I decided to carefully, thoughtfully, and painfully reexamine my religious beliefs. The early seeds of this process were sown in the late 90s when my politics began to change, as did my beliefs about capitalism and war. I later embraced socialism and pacifism. In 2000, I voted for a Democrat the first time, and I have primarily voted Democrat ever since. As it happens for many former Evangelicals, my deconstruction found its impetus in evolving political beliefs.

    I pastored my last church in 2003 and preached my last sermon in 2005. For several years I deconstructed my beliefs, stripping bare the central claims of Christianity. Starting with the inerrancy and infallibility of the Bible, I worked through the major doctrines of the Christian faith, concluding they could not be honestly and rationally sustained.

    And that’s the word I want to focus on: honesty. There is only one thing required in the deconstruction process, and that is honesty. As you deconstruct your beliefs, be honest with your observations. I have counseled people countless times over the years about deconstruction. I typically yell them that honesty is key to the process. Meet truth in the middle of the road and do business with it. Don’t try to go around truth, jump over it, or return to where you came from. It’s okay to park in the middle of the road until you have thoroughly examined a particular belief (or practice). You don’t owe it to anyone to “move on.” When, and only when, your questions have been answered, then you can move on to examining another belief. This is what I did until I, with a broken heart — having invested fifty years in worshipping Jesus — admitted I no longer believe.

    Deconstruction never leaves you as you are. Rarely do people honestly return to their old beliefs. Sadly, people often return to their old beliefs and practices out of fear or judgment or being ostracized. And I get it. When I deconverted, I lost a lifelong career, most of my friends, and all of my colleagues in the ministry. I didn’t lose everything — but almost. I paid a high price for truth, a price I would pay again today if called on to do so.

    Most people who deconstruct end up in churches and religions that put a kinder, gentler face on faith. I don’t know of anyone who deconverted from Evangelicalism after deconstruction who then returned to Evangelical beliefs and practices afterward. I am sure they exist, I just don’t know of any. Some people end up embracing humanism, agnosticism, atheism, and other -isms. The common denominator is that they freely (I know, I know, free will doesn’t exist) chose to embrace different beliefs without conditioning and indoctrination. One of the hardest things for me to admit about my past Evangelical life is that I belonged to a blood cult, and after years of indoctrination and conditioning, I wholly embraced the cult’s deity and became a high priest.

    Contrary to what Evangelicals will tell you, life is not all about the destination. The Evangelical house of cards is built on a foundation of a divine payoff after death for believing the right things. All that matters is making it to Heaven after death. I contend that life is all about the journey. Who knows where your journey will take you, but if you are honest throughout your journey, you will end up exactly where you need to be.

    Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.

    Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.

    You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.

  • Do I Owe Former Church Members an “Explanation” for My Deconversion from Christianity?

    peanut gallery

    Recently, I received the following email from a Christian man named William:

    NOW THAT YOU HAVE RENOUNCED CHRISTIANITY DO YOU FEEL YOU OWE IT TO THE CHRISTIANS YOU PREACHED TO AN EXPLANATION – HENCE, YOUR BLOG? AND WHEN YOU WERE A PREACHER DID YOU “TRULY” BELIEVE(AT LEAST AT THAT POINT IN TIME) WHAT YOU WERE TELLING THEM? OR WERE THERE DOUBTS FORMING EVEN THEN?

    Evidently, William must think I am deaf since he SHOUTED his message to me. That aside, Williams asked three questions:

    • DO YOU FEEL YOU OWE IT TO THE CHRISTIANS YOU PREACHED TO AN EXPLANATION?
    • WHEN YOU WERE A PREACHER DID YOU “TRULY” BELIEVE WHAT YOU WERE TELLING THEM?
    • WERE THERE DOUBTS FORMING EVEN THEN?

    No, I don’t owe former congregants an explanation for my loss of faith. Why should I, any more than anyone else, owe people an explanation for the major decisions I have made in my life? I owe my partner, Polly, an explanation, and maybe my children, grandchildren, siblings, and close friends, but everyone else? I don’t owe them anything. That said, I have spent the past eighteen years explaining why I left Christianity. Anyone, including former church members, can easily read about and understand my story. Millions of words have been sacrificed in my attempt to share my past and present experiences. A quick search of this site will answer every question a person might have.

    William asks if I “truly” believed what I was preaching to church members? Of course, I did. There’s nothing in my life that suggests I was anything other than a committed follower of Jesus. You will search in vain for someone who knew me at the time that would suggest otherwise. While I am now an atheist, at the time I believed the core tenets of Christianity and did my best to follow the teachings of the Bible.

    Doubts? We all have them. Did I ever have doubts as an Evangelical preacher? Sure. The difference between then and now is how I handle doubts. As a Christian, I trusted God to make all things known to me at his appointed time, according to his perfect will for my life. Instead of trusting God, I now trust my intellect and the academic skills I have developed over the years. When doubts crop up, I try to resolve them. And when I can’t, I say a prayer to Loki and put the matter away until I have better knowledge and understanding. Doubt is very much a part of the human experience.

    I hope I adequately answered William’s questions.

    Saved by Reason,

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    Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.

    Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.

    You can email Bruce via the Contact Form.