“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, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
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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, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
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, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
I’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, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
I 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, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
Recently, a reader sent me 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, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
I 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, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
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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, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
Years ago, I received the following email from an Evangelical man named Jeff.
I read the seven articles associated with “My Journey” and “Dear Evangelical” on your web site.
Thank you for your honesty and integrity regarding your spiritual walk.
I’ve been a believer in Christ since I was a young child, and God has richly blessed me with a close relationship to him.
Therefore reading your articles produces a deep sadness in me because I can see that you’re missing out on the most important relationship that any human being can have.
One of the first things that popped into my mind while reading your articles was something I’ve believed a long time: “Anything that can be done without Jesus Christ is not Christianity.” You obviously have a significant intellect and great desire to learn and teach. Reading widely and accumulating knowledge is a worthy pursuit, as are many other pursuits. Many worthy endeavors, including all types of theological efforts, can be pursued without a genuine relationship with Jesus Christ. Learning about someone does not mean that you have a love relationship with him/her.
Another quick comment relates to basic statistics. While I’m more than impressed at all the churches you’ve visited, please remember “sample size”. When performing statistical calculations it’s always important to consider sample size, or the number of statistical samples you have with respect to the entire population. If there are about 350,000 churches in the USA and you visited 100 of them, then your sample size is 100/350,000, which is less than 0.03% — an extremely small sample size. Thus when you claim something to the effect that all churches are the same, your sample size is so small that you have no credible basis for such a statement. I personally know some churches where the emphasis is the person of Jesus Christ above all else.
In none of the articles I read did I see any indication of the Holy Spirit’s work in your life. Awareness of your sin and belief in the forgiveness of your sin by Christ’s atoning sacrifice were not mentioned.
Penultimately, although I try to not tell people that they “should” do something, because you claim to be a voracious reader I have a few suggestions, if you have any appetite for spiritual wholeness:
• Books by pastors Ray C. Stedman, Dave Roper, John Piper, and Ray Ortlund
• Articles and books by apologists William Lane Craig, John Lennox, and C.S. Lewis
• Web site reasons.org (the authors of which present credible challenges to some of your claims)
• Short videos by Frank Turek
Lastly, one inescapable fact for me is that because the material universe is so amazingly complex there is no logical explanation for all of it to have come about by mere accident (randomness and mutation). I can’t imagine how so many clever/complex things could come about accidentally.
Respectfully,
Jeff
Where do I begin? Jeff doubts whether I was a True Christian®. Over the past seventeen years, I have received countless emails, blog comments, and social media messages that have asserted the same: that I was never a Christian; that I was deceived; that I was a wolf among sheep. Making these baseless assertions allows my critics to dismiss my story out of hand. It allows them to toss me aside into the reject bin that’s filled with countless other people who went to church but never knew the saving grace of Jesus Christ.
The problem with this argument, of course, is it that is absurd; little more than a wild conspiracy theory. I spent fifty years in the Evangelical church. Twenty-five of those years were spent pastoring churches in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. During this time, I came into intimate contact with Evangelical congregants and ministerial colleagues. I also was close to a number of Evangelical evangelists, missionaries, and college professors. My life was surrounded by professing Christians. Not only that, but I married into a family of Evangelical preachers. My wife’s father was a pastor, as was her uncle. Polly had cousins who were pastors, evangelists, and missionaries. Yet, according to some Christian zealots, I had all of these people fooled. Not one of them — all of whom were indwelt by the Holy Spirit — discerned that I wasn’t a Christian. Not one. My critics will search high and low and not find one person willing to say, I doubted Bruce Gerencser was a Christian. In fact, what they will find is people willing to testify of my commitment to Jesus and my resolve to follow his teachings. I was in every way a lover of Jesus. I had an intimate, loving, and fulfilling relationship with Him, and was, myself, indwelt with the Holy Spirit.
Bruce, you are now an atheist. You don’t believe the Christian God exists, so why does it matter to you that people accept your confession of faith as true? What I want from people is for them to accept my story at face value. When I write about the past, I focus on what I believed at that time. Yes, I was worshiping a myth, but in my mind, I believed I was worshiping the one true God. In my mind, I believed that Jesus had saved me from my sins and called me to be a preacher of the gospel. I believed that the Bible was a supernatural text inspired by a supernatural God. I believed God, in the person of the Holy Spirit, lived inside of me. All of these beliefs were nonsensical, yet, at the time, I believed them with all my heart. Thus, I find it offensive when some Evangelicals dismiss my testimony of faith with a wave of the hand, saying that I never was a Christian. All I am asking is that people accept my story as it is and not try to read their personal judgments, opinions, and theology into my story. When the Jeffs of the world tell me they are Christians, I accept that what they are telling me is true. That’s how human interactions work. We respectfully allow others to tell their own stories. After all, who knows his story better than the person telling it, right?
I found Jeff’s email to be polite, yet littered with passive-aggressive attempts to cast doubt on my past Christian faith. Jeff focuses on my astute study habits and book reading. Worthy pursuits, says Jeff, but one can learn many things about Jesus, yet not have a love relationship with him. Hint, hint, that’s you Bruce. I was a student, an intellectual, but I never truly loved Jesus, Jeff suggests. How does he determine this is so? What criteria does he use to determine that I never truly loved Jesus? Did I say the wrong words when I asked Jesus to save me? Did I belong to the wrong sect? What was it in my writing that led Jeff to conclude Jesus and I never had an intimate relationship? Or is the real issue that my story makes Jeff uncomfortable; that the implications of my loss of faith casts doubt on some of his beliefs?
Most Christians, except those of Pelagian persuasion, believe that true faith is evidenced by good works. James makes this clear when he says:
What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath faith, and have not works? can faith save him? If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, And one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit? Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone. Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works: shew me thy faith without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith by my works. Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble. But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead? Was not Abraham our father justified by works, when he had offered Isaac his son upon the altar? Seest thou how faith wrought with his works, and by works was faith made perfect? And the scripture was fulfilled which saith, Abraham believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness: and he was called the Friend of God. Ye see then how that by works a man is justified, and not by faith only. Likewise also was not Rahab the harlot justified by works, when she had received the messengers, and had sent them out another way? For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also. (James 2:14-26)
I am more than happy to compare good works with Jeff or any other Christian. Not only did I have a credible profession of faith and orthodox beliefs, I also showed I was a follower of Christ through my works. Again, anyone and everyone who knew me as a Christian would testify that I was a true-blue child of God. This is why so many people find my loss of faith so disconcerting. If Bruce could lose his faith, they think, why anybody can.
Jeff goes on to cast more doubt on my past faith by saying, “In none of the articles I read did I see any indication of the Holy Spirit’s work in your life. Awareness of your sin and belief in the forgiveness of your sin by Christ’s atoning sacrifice were not mentioned.” Jeff read all of seven articles out of 2,722 (now 5,480, as of today) posts — little more than a rounding error. Perhaps Jeff should invest time in truly getting to know the subject of his criticism. What Jeff has done so far is akin to someone reading the first seven chapters of Matthew and then saying they have read the Bible. Without fail, the sharpest critics of my life are those who can’t be bothered to read more than the first chapter or two of my autobiography.
For the sake of giving Jeff a thorough answer, let me address what he believes are omissions in my story. I believed that I was a broken, wretched sinner who deserved eternal punishment in the Lake of Fire. I believed that my sins separated me from God and that only through the atoning work of Jesus Christ on the cross could I be forgiven of my sins and be reconciled to God. At the age of fifteen, I came under conviction and the Holy Spirit revealed to me my sinfulness and need for salvation. I repented of my sins and asked Jesus to save me. From that moment in 1972 until November of 2008 — thirty-five years — I wholeheartedly believed that Jesus was my Lord, Savior, and King. While my theology changed over the years, I never lost sight of the centrality of Jesus Christ in my life. He was THE way, THE truth, and THE life. As far as the work of the Holy Spirit in my life, my good works speak for themselves. My devotion to preaching and teaching the Bible and evangelizing the lost was known far and near. I “felt” the presence of the Holy Spirit in my life. I “felt” the Holy Spirit leading and directing me throughout my life. It matters not that I now believe that these things were the machinations of my mind as a result of conditioning and indoctrination, and not the work of a mythical, invisible Spirit. At the time, “I believed” and that’s what matters when trying to determine the truthfulness of my story.
Finally, I want to address Jeff suggesting I read books by this or that author, check out this or that website, or watch apologetic videos. Here’s what I said to him in my brief response to his email:
Up until I deconverted, I read every book John Piper wrote. I’m familiar with his writings and his teachings on Christian hedonism. I read a lot of books by authors who focused on inward spiritual development. My library had over one thousand books. I read authors from the 16th century to the current era. I hope you are not seriously suggesting that if I read this or that book by one or another author that I would miraculously see the light. Give me credit for doing my homework before leaving Christianity. While there were psychological components to my deconversion, the ultimate reasons I left Christianity were of an intellectual nature. I came to the conclusion that the Bible was not what Christians claim it is. I also came to see that Christianity just doesn’t make sense. See :
Many ex-Christians, including myself, spent agonizing weeks, months, and years trying to hang on to their faith. The more we read and studied, the more doubts and questions we had. None of us wanted to leave Christianity. Speaking for myself, why would I ever want to leave all that I had ever known? Why would I want to leave the foundation upon which my life, marriage, and family were built? Why would I want to leave the social connections I had built over five decades? Why would I want to lose all my friends — men and women I had known for much of my adult life? Why would I want to leave a job that I personally found meaningful and fulfilling?
One need only read my letters: Dear Family, Friends, and Former Parishioners and Dear Friend, to literally feel the angst and raw emotion in my decision to abandon all I knew and held dear. I suspect that many of the readers of this blog have similar testimonies.
Come November, it will be sixteen years since I walked out the back door of the Ney United Methodist Church, never to return. Since then, scores of Evangelical apologists have stopped by to “educate” me about the faults in my testimony of faith. I have, by now, heard it all. There are no new arguments for Christianity forthcoming. All Christian authors do is repackage the same old, tired, worn-out arguments in books with new titles. If new evidence for Christianity is someday found, I will honestly and openly look at it and determine its worthiness. Until then, I am confident that I have thoroughly investigated the claims of Christianity. I am confident that my rejection of Christianity is intellectually sound.
After I responded to Jeff’s email, he sent me the following:
Given that engaging in internet dialogue is limiting, I thought a useful response would be for me to briefly document my personal situation if I were to “deconvert”.
If I Were to Deconvert from Christianity …
I would become lonely because I would lose my closest, constant companion.
Death would become a great unknown because the one who had conquered death would be dead.
I would become unloved because the one who had known me most deeply me would be absent.
I would lose the sweet communion with my Master.
I would tumble into despair because my purpose for my life would be obliterated.
I would become overburdened with guilt because my sins and failures would persist
My hope for a better future would dissipate because no one would be preparing a better place for me.
I would become fearful because I would lose my defender who had shielded me from attacks.
I would become stoical because my emotions would be stunted.
Beauty would become meaningless because I would lose the one who is beauty’s very essence.
Making decisions would be fraught with fear because I would lose my personal guide.
Temptations would become irresistible because the one holding me accountable would be gone.
I would lose my hope of receiving deep, honest, lasting joy because my joy-giver would be absent.
I would become mean because the one who had comforted my deepest hurts would be gone.
Trials would become unbearable because my trial-bearer would be gone.
If I lost my relatives and friends, I would be important to no one.
If I Were to Deconvert from Belief in God …
My life would be devoid of meaning and significance because my life would be little more than the result of purposeless, random accidents (otherwise known as biological mutations).
My standard for morality would vanish; morality would be determined by whoever had power over me.
My understanding of the beginning of life would disappear.
My understanding of the beginning of space and time would disappear.
My desire to perform altruistic acts would be quenched.
My mind would likely burst from a most unsettling conundrum: lacking a transcendent creator, the only other explanation for my existence would be neo-Darwinian evolution, which is illogical and untenable, leaving the question of my identity painfully unanswered.
I would lose my part in the greatest story ever told.
I would lose my ability to intervene through prayer on others’ behalf to God.
My prospect for the end of the world would become fearful because it would depend on mankind’s actions instead of the will of the one who created it.
My worldview would become nonsensical because the multitude of fine-tuning aspects of the universe would become inexplicable, impossible coincidences instead of evidences of a loving creator.
With so much to lose, how could I ever “deconvert”?
All I can say to what Jeff has written is *sigh.* (Please see Why I Use the Word “Sigh.”) Perhaps others will want to address Jeff’s false (and offensive) caricature of unbelievers. If I believed these things to be true, I too would live in hopelessness and despair. However, all that Jeff has done is show us how a Christian Fundamentalist views life and the universe. Presuppositions abound. Remove them, and everything looks gloriously and wonderfully different. There is life post-Jesus, of that I am sure. I have written countless posts about purpose and meaning, and how atheists/agnostics/humanists/unbelievers can and do find meaning and purpose in the present precisely because they have no need of religion. Jeff’s not interested in learning about these things because in Jesus he has all that he needs. Jeff married the first girl he ever dated, and now he judges all other marriages by his. He lacks the experience necessary to make such judgments of others. For him to suggest that his peculiar interpretation of an ancient religion and its text is the prescription for happiness, love, and fulfillment is beyond arrogant. Such is the nature of Evangelical Christianity. Evangelicalism is all that Jeff has ever known. Until he experiences life outside of the box, there’s not much hope for him. A wild, wonderful world awaits Jeff if he dares to scale the walls of his intellectual and psychological jail and escape. He’s not ready to do so today, but there’s hope. You see, I once was a Jeff. And if I can find new life in reason and humanistic principles, I know Jeff can too. With God — err, I mean intellectual inquiry — ANYTHING is possible!
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
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Several years ago, I received an email from a Christian man by the name of Tim Clark. Here’s a screenshot of Tim’s email:
Tim could have found the answers to his “thoughtful” questions by exercising a bit of curiosity and reading the posts found on the WHy/ page. (Please see Curiosity, A Missing Evangelical Trait.) Unfortunately, Tim is not the curious sort, so after reading a couple of posts he decided to email me. Tim came to this site via an internet search. He landed on my post about a California pastor accused of sexual misconduct. I suspect Tim was looking for the latest dirt on this preacher, and, while reading my post, decided to email me about what he suspects is my own “immorality.”
Tim’s email subject line says, “Are you “free” now? He put the word free in scare quotes. I assume he did so because he believes that no one is truly free unless they have been saved; and that non-Christians such as myself are in bondage to sin and Satan. Telling Tim, YES, I AM FREE, THANK REASON, I AM FREE, will surely fall on deaf ears. For Tim and other zealots like him, the dictates of the Bible determine who is free and who is not. Christians are free, everyone else is not. No amount of discussion will change Tim’s view of me. I walked away from Jesus, and nobody does that without having some sort of secret desire to live sinfully, especially sexual sin. (It’s always sexual sin, right? Evangelicals are voyeurs, obsessed with sex — who is doing it, when, where, how, and with whom.)
My first thought after reading Tim’s email was to tell him to go fornicate with himself. I am more than a little tired of self-righteous Evangelicals who refuse to accept my story at face value. I am beyond tired when it comes to receiving emails and Facebook comments from Christians who are certain that there is some other reason than what I have stated for my loss of faith. But, tired as I may be, I will muster up a bit of strength so I can answer Tim’s questions. Or are they accusations? Either way, here are my answers.
Did I “turn from the faith” to “justify some sin in [my] life”? No, I did not. As the posts on the WHY? page make clear, the primary reason I deconverted was that I no longer believed the central claims of Christianity; I no longer believed the Bible was what Christians claimed it was; I no longer believed the Christian narrative could be intellectually and rationally sustained. Simply put, Christianity no longer made any sense to me. (Please read The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.)
What Tim really wants to know is whether I turned from the faith to justify “immorality” in my life. Why would I have left Evangelicalism to live an immoral life? As The Black Collar Crime series makes clear, Evangelical preachers can commit adultery, fornication, and even be sexual predators, all while preaching the gospel and condemning sinful behaviors. If I desired to have sexual affairs, chase after prostitutes, frequent gay bars, or get massages at the local massage parlor, I could have done so and remained an Evangelical pastor. When feeling guilt or conviction over my immorality, all I would have had to do was confess my sins (I John 1:9) and Jesus would cleanse me of my sin.
I can tell Tim this much, I have never had an affair. (Please see It’s Time to Tell the Truth: I Had an Affair.) Forty-six years ago, I stood at the altar of the Newark Baptist Temple and told my bride that I would be faithful to her unto death. I can humbly say that I have kept that vow. I am far from perfect, having done things that are sure to be on Tim’s sin list, but not adultery. Have I ever looked at porn, been to a strip club, walked through the door of an adult book store, or “lusted” after a woman who is not my wife? Yes. And a survey of Christian men would show that most of them have too. In fact, I am quite sure that Tim, if he is a normal, healthy, heterosexual male, has lusted after women too. Jesus said in Matthew 5:28:
But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.
I do not doubt that most men, at one time or the other, have “looked on a woman to lust after her” and have “committed adultery with her already in his heart.”
Evangelical zealots looking to root out the real reasons for my loss of faith will continue to poke and prod, hoping that I will someday reveal the secret sins that lie buried in the depths of my sin-darkened heart. These Geraldo Riveras of Christianity will surely be disappointed. I have been quite transparent, open, and honest about my past and the reasons I am no longer a Christian. If the Tims of the world can’t accept what I say at face value, that’s their problem, not mine. Have I aired out every corner of my life for all to see? Of course not. As all writers do, I choose what I want to tell readers, leaving buried things that are too painful to talk about. Perhaps someday I will write about the secrets that remain, but for now, I have told all I need to tell to adequately relate my story. Readers can rest assured that there will be no women coming forward to tell about having adulterous liaisons with Bruce Gerencser.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
