If is carrying a lot of weight in this question. How would one go about “proving” Christianity? So far, every argument I have heard from believers allegedly “proving” Christianity comes up short. Quite frankly, many of the arguments Christian apologists use are fantastical or absurd. These arguments may work with people already predisposed to Christianity, but they won’t usually work atheists. Apologists continue to churn out books defending Christianity, but these books aren’t for unbelievers. The target audience is believers, and the goal is to provide them with “evidence” to reinforce and justify their claims, along with settling their nerves after having an atheist eviscerate their beliefs. (Many atheists are former Christians themselves. They know the Bible inside and out.)
Is it possible that someone could convince me that Christianity is true? I would like to say yes, wanting to keep an open mind, but knowing all I do about Christianity, the Bible, and the various arguments used by apologists to defend the faith, I can’t imagine any Christian being able to convince me that I should return to Christianity. If you are a Christian, you are welcome to try to convert me, but I hope you can handle rejection and disappointment; that’s likely what you will experience by trying to put another notch on your gospel six-shooter.
Will this post stop apologists from trying to evangelize me? Of course not. As sure as the sun comes up in the morning, a believer will leave a comment on this site or send me an email detailing their supercalifragilisticexpialidocious argument they are sure will lead me to the light. Sorry, but I was a Christian for most of my life. I spent five decades in the “light.” I was a pastor for twenty-five years. I am confident that I have heard every possible argument for the existence of the Christian deity and the alleged veracity of Christianity. What could you possibly say that I haven’t heard countless times before? Feel free to advance whatever argument you think will reach me, but understand that there is little doubt about whether I have heard it (or used it myself) before.
Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
After reading my first response to him, the young Evangelical pastor sent me two follow up questions:
What interested you with Bart Ehrman?
Did something happen in your life that made you question your former reality?
I have long praised Dr. Bart Ehrman for playing an instrumental part in my loss of faith. Remember, I was an Evangelical Christian; a devout follower of Jesus and preacher of the gospel for most of my life. As an Evangelical, I believed the Bible was literally the Words of God, inerrant and infallible. Imagine spending the first fifty years of your life believing an ancient religious text is different from all other books ever written; a supernatural text written by a supernatural God. I believed the Bible was true in all that it said, containing instruction in life and godliness.
I was an Evangelical pastor for twenty-five years, pastoring Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB), Sovereign Grace Baptist, Christian Union, Southern Baptist, and non-Denominational congregations. What was the one thing these denominations and churches had in common? To the person they believed the Bible was inspired, inerrant, and infallible — both at the textual and translation level. Not faithful; not reliable; the very words of the thrice holy God.
Dr. Ehrman (and others such as John Spong) educated me about the nature and history of the Bible. I came to the conclusion that Bible inerrancy and infallibility cannot be rationally sustained. All one needs to do is show one mistake or contradiction in the Bible, and inerrancy collapses. If Ehrman’s books taught me anything, they taught me that my pastors and professors lied to me about the Bible, as did countless Evangelical authors I read whose books/sermons claimed the Bible was a supernatural text in both its formation and message. These beliefs about the Bible were shattered by Ehrman’s thoughtful dismantling of inerrancy and infallibility. Once the Bible lost its divine authority over me, I was free to question, challenge, and, if warranted, repudiate its teachings.
I spent most of life adult life with my nose in the Bible. All told, I spent over 20,000 hours reading and studying the Bible. I preached 4,000 sermons. I breathed in and breathed out the Word of God, so imagine my shock to learn that the Bible was not what I claimed it was; that it was a book that contained wisdom and moral teachings here and there, but it was a collated religious text written by mostly unknown authors, who made thousands of textual errors (most of which are insignificant, but some, if believed, contradict the beliefs and moral values held by most Evangelicals).
Knowing these things forced me to reexamine my sincerely-held theological beliefs. Over time, I reinvestigated the central claims of Christianity and found them to be false. I recognize that Evangelical apologists can and do have explanations and justifications for alleged errors and contradictions in the Bible. Christians have had 2,000 years to explain and justify what I call their “Book of Claims.” Not evidence, claims. As I was going through the deconversion process, I found the arguments of apologists for the claims of the Bible to be intellectually lacking, if not outright dishonest. Worse, apologists are forced to defend God’s violent, immoral behavior because to do otherwise causes people to question and doubt the Bible. Can’t have that, right?
Let me be clear, I read dozens of books during the deconversion process, written by mainline Christians, atheists, agnostics, and humanists. I didn’t need to read Evangelical authors, because I had already done so. Sadly, some Evangelical apologists think that if I just read or listened to the pablum of men such as Lee Strobel, C.S. Lewis, Josh McDowell, or William Lane Craig, to name a few, I would, in short order, return to Christianity. This is laughable, to say the least. I have read these authors and others, so there’s no reason for me to re-read their books. Worse are Evangelicals who claim that I am an atheist because I read too many books; that I should stop reading books and only read the Bible — preferably the King James Version.
Granted, millions of Christians don’t believe the Bible is inerrant and infallible, but they still worship Jesus. I have dinner once a month with three friends of mine: a retired United Church of Christ pastor, a former Lutheran pastor, and a Buddhist. The concept of inerrancy is foreign to them. Errors and contradictions in the Bible don’t faze them as they do Evangelical Christians. Thus, learning that the Bible was not what I claimed it was caused the collapse of my house of faith. How could it be otherwise?
Let me conclude this post by answering this young pastor’s second question: Did something happen in your life that made you question your former reality?
The short answer to this question is “no,” but I want to address the motive behind asking this question. I have been blogging since 2007. I have repeatedly answered questions about why I deconverted. The Why? page contains numerous posts detailing how and why I left Christianity. If I make one thing clear it is this: I divorced Jesus for primarily intellectual reasons. I didn’t deconvert because the church hurt me or I had bad experiences. Was I ever hurt or did I ever have bad experiences? Sure, as all of us do, but these things had little to do with my loss of faith.
When this young pastor and other Evangelicals ask me this question, he is really asking me, “What is the REAL reason I left the ministry and deconverted?” Unable to wrap their minds around my story and the stated reasons for deconversion, Evangelicals wonder if there is some sort of secret reason for me being an atheist today. Let me be clear, I am an atheist because I no longer believe the central claims of Christianity. Simply put, Christianity no longer makes any sense to me. I find the Bible’s supernatural claims to be irrational and absurd. (Please see The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.)
It is true that emotions played a part in my deconversion, as they do in all decisions I make, but I can’t point to one hurt or emotional experience that provided grounds for walking away from everything I held dear. That said, my experiences with Evangelicals post-Jesus have largely been negative, causing more than a little emotional hurt. Evangelicals routinely lie about me, distort my story, threaten me with judgment and Hell, and go out of their way to discredit me. Worse, they threaten me with violence, and even murder. These lovers of Jesus attack my partner and our six children. Preachers preach sermons about me and use me as a cautionary tale, an illustration of what happens when you no longer believe the Bible is true. While these experiences are not sufficient to justify my deconversion, they are enough for me to conclude that Evangelicalism is morally bankrupt. Why would I EVER want to become a Christian again?
The aforementioned pastor concluded his email with the following: I pray that this conversation can go in the right direction of the Lord’s will.
What, exactly, is the “right direction of the Lord’s will?” This suggests that there is some sort of agenda, other than knowledge and understanding. My only agenda is to openly and honestly answer his questions. It is up to this pastor to declare his motivations. I am more than happy to answer whatever good faith questions he might have, but if there is some sort of ulterior motive lurking in the shadows, I can quickly become an arsonist.
Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
Recently, a young Evangelical pastor emailed me and asked me two questions:
What made you leave the faith?
Why [would] you would leave a faith that you defended for a long time?
I am frequently asked these or similar questions. Usually, I refer people to the WHY? page for answers to their questions, but there’s something about this pastor — maybe it is his age or proximity to where I live — that interests me, so I thought I would attempt to answer his questions.
I was raised in an Evangelical Christian home. From the time I was a child until I was fifty years old, I attended church every time the doors were open. Saved at the age of fifteen and called to preach two weeks later, I was a devoted follower of Jesus Christ. Imperfect, to be sure, the bent of my life was towards holiness (without which no man shall see God).
At the age of nineteen, I moved to Pontiac, Michigan to enroll in classes at Midwestern Baptist College — an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) institution. While at Midwestern, I met Polly, and two years later we married. Polly and I spent the next thirty years faithfully serving Jesus. Whether between churches or pastoring them, our lives revolved around the ministry (for good or ill). If I counted my entrance into the ministry from the first time I preached to when I deconverted, all told I preached for thirty-three years. (Unlike most of my fellow college students, I regularly preached all through school at a drug rehabilitation center in Detroit.)
After leaving Midwestern, I began a ministerial journey that took me to churches in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. While I entered the ministry as an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist, my path later led to ministry opportunities at Southern Baptist, Christian Union, Sovereign Grace Baptist, and Non-denominational churches. Along the way, we were blessed with six children, including a daughter with Down syndrome.
Fast forward to 2004. I decided that I was done with the ministry. The reasons were many, but not the focus of this post. Suffice it to say, these reasons played an insignificant part in my loss of faith. Polly and I decided that we were at a place in life where we wanted to help a congregation without being its pastor. We spent the next four years visiting churches in Ohio, Arizona, California, Michigan, and Indiana. We cast a wide theological net, but after visiting over one hundred churches, — attending some of them for months — we concluded that the only difference between the churches was the name over their doors. After buying in home here in Ney in 2007, we primarily attended mainline churches — a sign of our increasingly liberal politics.
As my politics and theology evolved, I asked myself what it was I truly believed? What were the non-negotiables of my life? This led to me carefully and comprehensively reexamining my political and theological beliefs — a process that continues to this day. Polly and I spent countless hours talking about our beliefs. I read aloud to Polly passages from books written by men such as Dr. Bart Ehrman. We talked about what it was we really believed about the Bible. These discussions, and my continued investigation of core Christian doctrines, led me to conclude that the central claims of Christianity were false. Teachings that were once dear to me, no longer made sense. (Please see The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.) On the last Sunday in November, 2008, Polly and I attended church for the last time.
These days, I self-identify as an agnostic atheist. Polly is an agnostic, indifferent, and, at times hostile, to organized religion. Our life experiences were very different — even in the ministry — so it should come as no surprise that what motivated our deconversions might be different. Same zip code, to be sure, but different journeys. I am the intellectual of the family. I spent most of my life reading, studying, and preaching the Bible. My experiences are necessarily different from Polly’s, and that’s why our reasons for leaving Christianity vary.
Let me conclude with answering this pastor’s second question: Why [would] you would leave a faith that you defended for a long time?
I am sure this young preacher struggles to understand why I would leave something I dedicated my life to for so many years. Makes sense, right? Most men or women who leave the ministry do so when they are young or youngish. They enter the ministry and find out it is not what it is cracked up to be (and boy, it’s not!) or they had some sort of crisis of faith, and after a few years they decided the pastorate was not for them.
It is rare for men or women to leave the ministry in their 50s. It happens, but not very often. Why are older people hesitant to leave the ministry? Two things come to mind:
Commitment bias, also known as the escalation of commitment, is the tendency to remain loyal to a previous decision, behavior, or course of action, even when it leads to negative outcomes. This often occurs as a result of a desire for consistency with one’s past words and actions, especially when that commitment was made publicly.
Sunk Cost Fallacy, the phenomenon whereby a person is reluctant to abandon a strategy or course of action because they have invested heavily in it, even when it is clear that abandonment would be more beneficial.
I struggled with these things too. I had spent my entire life in the church. I had spent most of my adult life pastoring churches. Polly, a Baptist preacher’s daughter, and I had committed ourselves to the work of the ministry, regardless of financial renumeration. Both of us, at one time or another, worked outside of the church to provide for our family. Not one time did we doubt that this was God’s will for us — until we did. How could we throw everything away? For what? Atheism?
Only those who have walked in our shoes can understand and appreciate our emotional struggles with leaving the ministry and our later deconversion. Many a tear was shed before we walked away. We asked ourselves, Are we sure? What if we are wrong? Do we really want to throw in the towel and walk away? Does this mean we wasted our lives in the ministry? Wouldn’t it be better for us to fake it — it’s not hard — for the sake of family and social connections? What would we do if we weren’t in the ministry?
While the struggles in the dark of night were painful and real, I eventually concluded that I had to be honest: I no longer believed the Bible was the Word of God. I no longer believed the central claims of Christianity. This meant I wasn’t a Christian in any meaningful sense of the word. (Some Baptists think I am just backslidden, and I am still a Christian. This is absurd.) Truth mattered more to me than the ministry and our Evangelical way of life. This was true when I was a Christian, and it is true today. I am open to having my beliefs challenged, albeit I haven’t heard a new or persuasive argument for Christianity (or any other religion) in years. Ecclesiastes says that there is nothing new under the sun, and that is especially true when it comes to Christianity. I am confident that no new evidence will be forthcoming; so much so, that I am, when it comes to the Christian deity, an atheist. To paraphrase the book of Daniel, I have weighed Christianity in the balance and found it wanting.
Do I miss the ministry? You bet. I miss preaching, teaching, and ministering to others, but whatever yearning I may have, it cannot overcome my desire to know and live the truth. While there was certainly an emotional component — how could there not be? — to my deconversion, the primary reasons for my loss of faith were intellectual in nature. I desperately looked for a place to stop on the proverbial slippery slope, but I slid all the way to the bottom, and, in the end, I concluded I was no longer a Christian. And seventeen years later, I remain an unbeliever. Labeled an apostate, reprobate, or follower of Satan, I am routinely pilloried by God’s chosen ones, ever present reminders of Evangelicalism’s ugly underbelly. If I had any doubts about the veracity of Christianity, I no longer do, having experienced seventeen years of character assassination, threats of violence, and attacks on my family.
Please leave any questions you might have or email them to me. I will do my best to answer them.
Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
Recently, a Christian man named Marlin had this to say about me:
I dislike Dennis Corle and I know Jack Hyles was evil. But you’re using them as part of your excuse as to why you’re no longer Christian, when it’s pretty clear you never were a believer.
As is my custom, I sent Marlin a link to my response.
Marlin replied:
You’re an old faggot who will burn even hotter for being a scoffer
Marlin reveals that he is either still an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist or his thinking and behavior are deeply influenced by IFB beliefs. By far, the nastiest people I’ve interacted with on this site are IFB Christians.
One tactic often used by IFB Christians is to call your opponent a faggot, queer, gay, or homosexual. This has nothing to do with sexuality. The goal is to marginalize and defame, and by doing so, this allows them to dismiss my story out of hand.
Marlin goes on to say that I am a “scoffer,” and I will suffer greater punishment in Hell for my unbelief. Of course, Marlin provides no evidence for his claim. He doesn’t address the fact that, according to many Independent Baptists, I am still a Christian. Once saved, always saved, right? He also doesn’t address the fact that followers of Jesus can and do deconvert.
When confronted with the awfulness of eternal punishment in the Lake of Fire, many Evangelicals will say that it is not up to them who ends up in Hell. They genuinely feel bad that their beliefs require the eternal punishment of their family, friends, neighbors, and coworkers. Marlin, evidently, has no such qualms. No, in his mind, I never was a Christian, and I will suffer eternal punishment in the Lake of Fire for my unrepentant unbelief. He KNOWS I am going to fry forever. Maybe Marlin is God in drag?
Marlin then left the following comment:
Intellectual reasons? You left Christianity after your neurological problems left you wheelchair-bound. You’re a sad, bitter old man. You were never a Christian because your idol is yourself. You loved your ability to walk and yourself more than the Lord, then claim your superior intellect evolved you beyond the things of God.
In my first response to him, I told Marlin that he was wrong about the reason I left Christianity; that I primarily deconverted for intellectual reasons. Marlin rejects my claim, saying that I “left Christianity after your neurological problems left you wheelchair-bound.” Is there any truth to his claim? Of course not. Marlin has constructed a strawman of me in his mind. Instead of critiquing my life according to what I have written, Marlin uses the strawman Bruce instead. This, of course, leads to faulty conclusions.
I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia twelve years before I deconverted. I didn’t start regularly using a wheelchair until 2009 — after I deconverted. It wasn’t until 2022 that I started using a wheelchair (or walker) anytime I am forced to walk more than short distances. I typically use a cane for short distances, a walker for moderate distances, and a wheelchair for long distances or times when I am required to sit for long periods of time.
As everyone but Marlin can see, my disability began when I was still a Christian and a pastor. My health problems played little to no part in my deconversion. I have never blamed “God” for my physical struggles. Life is what it is, and I accept the fact that chronic pain and suffering are as much a part of my life as breathing.
Marlin goes on to say that I am a sad, bitter man. Marlin provides no evidence for his claim. He doesn’t know me, so on what basis does he conclude that I am sad and bitter? I am neither, though, at times, my pain levels reach #10 on the chart, and I can and do feel sad. Who wouldn’t want relief from chronic pain and suffering?
Marlin again claims I was never a Christian. He then adds that I worship myself, saying, “You loved your ability to walk and yourself more than the Lord, then claim your superior intellect evolved you beyond the things of God.”
Honestly, it is hard to tell what Marlin means here. He seems to say that I loved the ability to walk more than I loved God. How did Marlin come to such a faulty conclusion? There’s nothing in my story that remotely suggests I worshipped the man, myth, and legend Jesus Christ. No, as my therapist would tell Marlin if asked, I think poorly of myself, struggling to maintain a healthy self-esteem.
As far as my intellect is concerned, what else should I use to determine my beliefs and make decisions? I assume Marlin does the same. Oh, wait, with one big difference. His intellect is sotted with Christian dogma and practices. They color every judgment he makes. This, of course, can be true of all of us. Our presuppositions can and do lead to faulty conclusions. That’s why I do my best to skeptically and rationally make decisions without bias from presuppositions. Marlin, on the other hand, thinks his peculiar interpretation of the Protestant Christian Bible is superior to anything I might believe. This, of course, is a common problem when dealing with Evangelical Christians. They are certain that they are “right”; that their beliefs and practices come straight from the triune God himself.
Marlin provides no evidence for any of his claims; just assertions and personal opinions. I challenge him to justify his accusations about me. I am confident that he will not do so because his whole view of me is based on a strawman caricature of me.
Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
Recently, a Christian man named Marlin had this to say about me:
I dislike Dennis Corle and I know Jack Hyles was evil. But you’re using them as part of your excuse as to why you’re no longer Christian, when it’s pretty clear you never were a believer.
Dennis Corle and the late Jack Hyles are big names in the Independent Fundamentalist Baptist church movement. I have heard both men preach, and Corle held several revivals for me in the 1980s. I assume that Marlin is either a current IFB church member or a former one. Either way, his comment reveals a common IFB trait: making moral judgments without evidence to justify their conclusions. Marlin says it is clear that I was never a “believer,” yet he provides no evidence for his claim. He doesn’t personally know me, so he has no personal experiences with me to base his judgments upon. Further, he doesn’t provide any anecdotal or personal testimony from former congregants or colleagues in the ministry — you know, people who actually knew me — that bolsters his claim about my salvation. Despite not having any evidence to justify his claims, Marlin is cocksure that I was never a Christian.
Marlin suggests that it was people like Dennis Corle and Jack Hyles who played an instrumental part in my deconversion. This claim is patently false. I don’t believe I have ever suggested that these men or other preachers played a part in my loss of faith. I left the IFB church movement in the late 1980s, twenty years before I deconverted. While I was still an Evangelical Christian, I no longer ran in IFB circles.
I have made it clear over the years that I left Christianity for primarily intellectual reasons. Sure, there were emotional factors too, but at the end of the day, I left Christianity because it no longer made any sense to me.
If Marlin thinks otherwise, I suggest he provide evidence for his claims. Or he can admit that his claims are false. Marlin claims to be a Christian. I accept his claim at face value. If someone says they are a Christian, I believe them. Sadly, Evangelicals-turned-atheists are not given the same respect. Marlin KNOWS I never was a follower of Jesus, and this allows him to dismiss my story out of hand. Accepting my story as it causes cognitive dissonance and theological problems, so it is just easier to assert that I was never a Christian.
Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
Bruce and Polly Gerencser, May 1978, two months before our wedding
For those of us raised in high-demand religious sects, we know how much we missed out on while we were busy worshipping Jesus every hour of every day, week in and week out. I spent the majority of my life deeply immersed in the teachings of the Bible and the machinations of the ministry. All told, I attended over 8,000 church services, revival meetings, youth rallies, and Bible conferences. At least three times a week for the first fifty years of my life, I could be found within the four walls of Bible-believing, Bible-preaching churches. I was a committed, devoted follower of Jesus, as was my partner, Polly. When we married in 1978, we made a commitment to follow Jesus all the days of our lives. Our children were born into and lived in a home where Evangelical Christianity permeated everything we did. This is not to say that Polly and I were perfect Christians. We were not. Both of us sinned, and, on occasion, grievously so. That said, the bent of our lives was towards holiness, without which, the Bible says, “no man shall see the Lord.”
The Bible — my interpretation of it, anyway — was the foundation of our family. Thus, there were a lot of things we didn’t or couldn’t do because of our beliefs. This means we missed out on doing many of the things — good, bad, and indifferent — our peers did. Polly, in particular, lived a sheltered life, attending an Evangelical Christian high school. I was more worldly in the sense that I attended a large public high school and was more exposed to the world than she was. That said, Jesus, the Bible, and the church were the sum of our lives until we were in our late 40s.
Polly will turn sixty-seven in October, and I turned sixty-eight in June. Both of us are on the short side of life; I, in particular, with all the health problems I have. As we reflect on our pasts, we can’t help but regret missing out on so much of life. In recent years, we’ve decided to do some of the things we were forbidden from doing. Our only rule these days is this: we are free to do whatever we want to do. No God or Bible to consult. All that matters is whether we want to do something, and if we can afford it, off we go, experiencing and enjoying what little life we have left.
This is especially true when it comes to music. Over the past three years, we have attended numerous “secular” concerts, so much so that several workers at one venue know us by name. So far this year, we have heard (main acts):
Girl Named Tom
The Fray
Augustana
1985 (a tribute band)
Fleetwood Mac Tribute Band
Buffalo Rose
Parmalee
Four Horsemen (Metallica Tribute Band)
Dorothy
Redferrin
In October, we plan to see Killer Queen (a tribute band) at The Clyde Theater in Fort Wayne and Seether, Daughtry, and POD at the Michigan Lottery Amphitheatre in Sterling Heights, Michigan. In November, a Blackstone Cherry concert is on the schedule, as is One Dark Night (a Halloween-themed concert, theatrical production). You might think that we are attending a lot of concerts — and we are — but consider how limited I am physically. I can walk short distances with a cane, but anything more than that requires a wheelchair. Fortunately, we have found three music venues that are ADA-friendly; places where we aren’t stuck in a back corner somewhere, out of sight, out of mind. Besides, we have eclectic music tastes. We love live music, so we are to be found at everything from country to heavy metal concerts.
Are you a former member of a high-demand religion that put onerous requirements on how you lived your life? How has your life changed? Have you experienced things now that you missed out on in your Christian days? Please share your experiences in the comment section.
Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
I have been blogging for seventeen years. I have had several blogs over the years. This one has been live since 2014. Titled The Life and Times of Bruce Gerencser, this blog focuses on my journey from Evangelicalism to atheism, with a lesser focus on sex crimes committed by Evangelical preachers and critiques of Christianity in general.
While this blog has a biographical bent, it is not, strictly speaking, a biography. Over the years, I evolved theologically and changed my beliefs on all sorts of social issues. For example, I entered the ministry as a hardcore, King James-only, Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB). Over time, my beliefs have evolved, so much so that the Bruce Gerencser of 1983 would not recognize the Bruce Gerencser of today.
When new readers frequent this site, they rarely read all of my biographical writing. Brought by a search engine to this site, they might read one, two, four, or even fifty posts, thinking that is sufficient to understand by story and beliefs. It’s not, and this leads readers to reach wrong conclusions about me. For example, countless Christian readers have told me that my problem is that I was raised and schooled in the IFB church movement. Is this claim true? No. I left the IFB church movement in the mid-80s, twenty years before I deconverted. Sadly, pigeon-holing me this way allows critics to dismiss my story out of hand. “No wonder he’s an atheist. He was an IFB preacher.” Lost on my critics is the fact that I only pastored three IFB churches; that I also pastored Sovereign Grace, Christian Union, Southern Baptist, and non-Denominational churches. The last church I pastored was a Southern Baptist congregation in Michigan. One Sunday, a young man who was a member of a church I pastored for eleven years in southeast Ohio came to hear me preach at this Southern Baptist church. Afterward, he told me that my preaching had changed; that I was now preaching a “social gospel.” And to some degree, He was right. My beliefs had changed, a reflection of my deep immersion in Mennonite and progressive Christian theology.
Many readers pick a point on my timeline and judge me accordingly. What they fail to see and understand is that I was no longer at that point, belief-wise; that my theology had changed, as had my understanding of social issues. Today, I am an atheist, secular humanist, liberal, progressive, socialist, and pacifist. Twenty-five-year-old Bruce would have despised sixty-eight-year-old Bruce.
With these thoughts in mind, let me address several false judgments Evangelicals and other Christians make about my life.
First, some critics say that I left the ministry (2005) and Christianity (2008) because I was unhappy as a pastor. This idea is not anywhere in my writing, but taking disparate stories and putting them together, critics often conclude that I was unhappy was a pastor. This claim is patently untrue. I was generally happy as a pastor. I loved preaching and teaching the Bible and helping those in need. Did I battle with depression as a pastor? Sure, but that doesn’t mean I was unhappy. My depression — as it is today — was driven by perfectionist tendencies, obsessive-compulsive personality disorder (OCPD), and a Type A personality. When I couldn’t meet impossible expectations put on me by church members and myself, depression ensued. This is true to this day, though years of therapy have helped me see myself in a different light. I still find myself “driven” to perform, but one thing serious health problems have done is make it impossible for me to meet my lofty self-imposed standard.
Second, some critics think I deconverted because of how poorly churches paid me over the years. This assertion reveals that they really haven’t read much of my biographical writing. Had they done their homework, they would have learned that I would have pastored churches for free; that I was bivocational on and off during the twenty-five years I spent in the ministry. I was never a part-time pastor. Instead, I often pastored full-time while working outside the church. As a result, I worked long hours, often six or seven days a week. If there is one thing I would never do again, it is giving the ministry priority in my life. Both Polly and I devoted ourselves to every church I pastored, regardless of the time and effort it took. We felt, at the time, that this was God’s calling for us. In college, Polly was reminded by professors that she would have to accept playing second fiddle in Bruce’s ministerial orchestra. The same went for our children. The church always came first. It took me twenty years to change my ways.
Third, some critics claim that I deconverted because the “church” hurt me. When asked for evidence for their claim, none is provided. How, then, do they know the church hurt me? Supposedly, they can read the “hurt” in my writing or by looking into the eyes of a photograph of me. I have not once suggested that “hurt” was a reason I deconverted. This claim is an assumption made without evidence for the truth of it.
Have I ever been “hurt” by church members? Sure, but never to the degree that I wanted to leave Christianity. Most of the hurt came after I deconverted; when lifelong friends and colleagues in the ministry turned on me after I left Christianity. From nasty emails and letters to sermons especially about me, I quickly learned that fidelity to certain theological beliefs was the glue that held our relationships together. Once this fidelity evaporated, I was branded an apostate; a tool of Satan; a false prophet; an enemy of the one true faith.
Okay, Bruce, why DID you leave Christianity? I deconverted because Christianity no longer made sense to me. I came to believe that the central claims of Christianity were false — especially its supernatural claims. I no longer believe the Bible is inerrant and infallible. I no longer believe that Jesus was in any way supernatural. Jesus was an apocalyptic Jewish preacher who lived and died — end of discussion. I concluded that I couldn’t believe these things and still be a Christian. Unlike many Christians, I was unwilling to close my eyes to errors and contradictions in the Bible and the harm caused by its teachings. Once I started treating the Bible as I did other books, everything changed. Sure, I could have faked it as many Christians do, but I’m not one to lie about what I believe.
I hope this clears up the misunderstandings readers have about my story. If you still have questions, please ask them in the comment section. If you have not read the posts on the Why? page, I encourage you to do so. Still have questions? Email me and I will try to answer them.
Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
For those of us raised in Evangelical churches, we are acutely familiar with a song titled Happiness is the Lord:
Happiness is to know the Saviour, Living a life within His favour, Having a change in my behaviour, Happiness is the Lord. Happiness is a new creation, Jesus and me in close relation, Having a part in His salvation, Happiness is the Lord.
Real joy is mine, No matter if the teardrops start, I’ve found a secret, It’s Jesus in my heart.
Happiness is to be forgiven, Living a life that’s worth the livin’, Taking a trip that leads to Heaven, Happiness is the Lord.
Real joy is mine, No matter if the teardrops start, I’ve found a secret, It’s Jesus in my heart, Jesus in my heart. Happiness is to be forgiven, Living a life that’s worth the livin’, Taking a trip that leads to Heaven, Happiness is the Lord, Happiness is the Lord, Happiness is the Lord.
If you dare, watch the following video. You will immediately have an earworm that you can’t get rid of.
Released in 1972, Happiness is the Lord is a song that children sing over and over and over again in Evangelical churches. I was in ninth grade when this song came out, and it quickly became a hit among the church’s teens.
What is this song teaching children about happiness?
Happiness is Jesus
Happiness is living a life in Jesus’ favor
Happiness is changed behavior
Happiness is a new creation (in Christ)
Happiness is a close relationship with Jesus
Happiness is having a part in Jesus’ salvation
Happiness is to be forgiven
Happiness is living a life worth living
Happiness is a trip to Heaven
From their nursery years forward, Evangelical children are indoctrinated and conditioned to believe that happiness only comes through Jesus. Without Jesus, children live meaningless lives. Want a life worth living? Want to have your sins (and don’t worry, kids, we will tell you all the behaviors that are sins and affronts to Jesus) forgiven? Want to go to Heaven when you die? Who doesn’t, right? According to Evangelicals, Jesus is the answer to every one of these questions.
Of course, what naturally follows is the idea that without Jesus, you can’t be happy. Your life isn’t worth living, and when you die, you will go to Hell. When life is framed in this manner, is it any wonder that the majority of Evangelical children make salvation decisions by the time they are out of elementary school?
Is happiness possible without Jesus? Of course it is. People were happy for thousands of years before Jesus arrived on the scene, and countless people have been happy since then, all without believing in and worshipping a dead Jew.
Google defines happiness this way:
Happiness is a state of well-being and contentment, often described as experiencing joy, satisfaction, and fulfillment. It’s a subjective experience, meaning what brings happiness to one person might not be the same for another. Happiness can be found in both fleeting moments and overall life satisfaction.
Note that the definition doesn’t mention Jesus as the source of happiness. Millions of Evangelicals lustily sing Happiness is the Lord, but their lives reveal that these words mean little to them. I pastored lots of unhappy believers; people who sang Happiness is the Lord on Sundays, and lived miserable, unhappy lives the rest of the week.
I deconverted seventeen years ago. Did unhappiness overwhelm me after I divorced Jesus? Nope. What changed was the locus of my happiness. As a Christian, my happiness was rooted in Jesus. As an atheist, my happiness is found in the simple things of life: Polly, our six children, our sixteen grandchildren, and four cats. Lots of happiness to go around for the Gerencser family. I also find happiness in nature and observing the lives of others. We did some shopping tonight at the Aldi store in Auburn, Indiana. I was in a good mood, even though I was in a lot of pain. I chatted with several shoppers. One Amish woman (we have a large Amish community near where we live) was shopping with her teen daughters and a toddler. I watched as the toddler ran down the aisles, evading her older sisters. I briefly talked to the mother, commenting on her daughter’s energy. We both laughed, traded a few pleasantries, and continued shopping. You know what I felt in that moment? Happiness.
None of us needs God/Jesus to be happy. If you think you do, you have been indoctrinated and conditioned. Life is what you make it, and even in the midst of suffering and loss, happiness can be found. We bought some hot dogs for the feral/stray cats that frequent our yard. Tonight, there were four adult cats and five kittens at our back door. I cut up hot dogs and put them on the porch. It was every cat for herself. I was delighted to see the kittens eating solid food. Again, how did I feel? Happy. Later tonight, four coons that have been visiting us at night will make an appearance. Their antics provide loads of entertainment. How will I feel? Happy. Happy for the sake of being happy, and happy that the coons made to our yard without getting hit on the highway in front of our home.
None of us needs Jesus to find happiness. Even if you are a Christian, Jesus is not the sum of your happiness. Expand your horizons and embrace life. You will find all the happiness you will ever need.
Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
Scores of Evangelical Christians are questioning their beliefs, leading to what is commonly called “deconstruction.” Deconstruction is a process used to carefully examine beliefs and practices. Some people who deconstruct stay in their chosen belief system. Changes are made around the edges, belief-wise, but core doctrines remain unchanged. Others leave Evangelicalism, moving on to different sects and beliefs. Many people choose to reject religions, embracing spiritualism instead. And for others, deconstruction leads to a rejection of Christianity altogether. Many of these people become agnostics or atheists.
As more and more Evangelicals deconstruct, preachers take to their pulpits to “explain” why people deconstruct. More often than not, these preachers lie through their teeth as they give reasons for people deconstructing.
Over the weekend, I listened to a number of preachers attempting to explain why people deconstruct and leave their churches. Without exception, these so-called men of God lied about those leaving the faith. These preachers may be ignorant about deconstruction, but facts are but a Google search away. At best, these preachers are lazy. At worst, their objective is to smear the character of former believers, using former Christians as sermon illustrations or using them as a warning sign from God. I have critics who do this very thing by saying my health problems are a warning sign from God. “Look at what happened to Bruce Gerencser,” these preachers say. The problem with this line of stupidity is that my health problems predate my loss of faith. Any time I have a serious problem in my life, Evangelicals will claim that God is judging me for my alleged rebellion against the Almighty. How these Nostradamuses know their pronouncements are true is never stated. When I draw my last breath, you can count on these same critics taking to the Internet and their pulpits to say that I am now burning in Hell, facing the just consequences of having a doubting, questioning mind.
By far, the number one reason Evangelical preachers give for why people deconstruct is that the church has hurt them. While church hurt certainly plays a part in the deconversion process, I don’t know of anyone who says that “hurt” is the sole reason for walking away from Christianity. That said, Evangelical churches are known for shooting the wounded, sometimes causing mortal wounds. Go ahead and cross the preacher or disagree with him and see what happens. Go ahead and do or say something that the church’s power brokers (and every church has them) object to and see what happens. Oh wait, you know what will happen, because you have experienced it. Dare to walk your own path, expressing questions and doubts, and you will find yourself marginalized, ostracized, or excommunicated. Why would people want to remain in churches where they are treated as outsiders?
Another reason preachers use to explain why people deconstruct is that they secretly want to sin. Specifically, those who deconstruct want to commit licentious sexual immorality. Numerous critics of mine say that I left Evangelicalism because I am a closeted gay man. This, of course, is patently untrue. I don’t know of anyone who deconverted solely did so because they wanted to “sin.” Besides, the church has lots of “sinners” in its midst. The Black Collar Crime Series records the criminal behavior of over a thousand preachers — mostly Evangelicals who committed sex crimes. I have yet to read an article or hear a sermon about the problem Evangelicalism has with sexual misconduct. Why not focus on the “sin” within instead of judging, criticizing, and condemning those who are without?
Let me give you one more reason Evangelical preachers give for why people deconstruct. Preachers love to paint those who deconstruct as ignorant, superficial people; people who know very little about the Bible. This, of course, is patently untrue. Most of the people I know who deconverted spent countless hours re-examining their beliefs. What these preachers are most upset about is that the deconversion process exposes the shallowness of their preaching and calls into question what they teach and preach. Worse, it reveals that most Evangelical preachers are unable or unwilling to answer serious, challenging questions about Christianity and the Bible. When no suitable answers are forthcoming, people are told to just faith-it; that in time, God will soothe all doubts and answer all questions. People might have to wait until they die and enter the Pearly Gates, but all questions will one day be answered.
Most people deconvert because Evangelical Christianity no longer makes sense to them. Why are preachers afraid to admit that this is the primary reason people deconvert? To do so would call into question their ministry; their teaching, preaching, and way of life. Instead of serious introspection, preachers blame those who have lost their faith. (Please see The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.)
If preachers truly want to know why people deconvert, I suggest that they actually talk to people who deconverted. Rarely does this happen. Most articles about deconversion are opinion pieces that lack any interviews with former Christians. Will preachers do this? Of course not. They have kingdoms and checkbooks to protect. I would love to be invited by local Evangelical churches to come share my journey from Evangelicalism to atheism. Surely, one former Christian’s testimony is no threat to the beliefs of others? Doesn’t the Bible say, “Greater is he that is in us, than he that is in the world?” I am no match for God, yet preachers fear that I will lead people astray if they ever hear from the horse’s mouth why I deconverted. Regardless, most Evangelicals have the Internet, and countless doubting/questioning Christians have contacted me for help. What reason do these people give for contacting me? Their pastors couldn’t or refused to answer their questions, or gave shallow, childish answers that they found unsatisfactory.
I suspect nothing will stem the tide of people deconstructing. It is clear, at least to me, that Evangelical churches/pastors/colleges have no answers for those who are desperately trying to hold on to their faith. Most doubters and questioners don’t want to deconvert, but the more they read and study, the more they realize that Evangelicalism no longer has answers for them. And when answers aren’t forthcoming, people will look elsewhere.
Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
Many of these programs are call-in shows that encourage Christians to call in and defend their faith or answer questions about various teachings of the Bible. The answers upchucked by many of these Evangelical zealots are usually shallow, contradictory, and, at times, heretical. These defenders of the faith attend church multiple times a week, hearing the Word of God taught and preached. Some of the people who call in are pastors, evangelists, missionaries, and college professors. Sadly, many of their arguments and explanations are just as bad as people with no Bible college or seminary training. Some of these preachers need to quit preaching and go back to college to get a real education. Of course, a “real” education can and does lead to a loss of faith.
It is not uncommon for those who call these shows to complain about all the atheist programming on YouTube and TikTok. “Can’t you just keep your beliefs to yourself? Why do you have to cause people to doubt (or lose) their faith? Of course, when I put the shoe on the other foot and apply the same standard to Evangelicals, they stupidly think that only atheists should keep their mouths shut; that Evangelicals are commanded by God to preach the gospel to the ends of the earth. However, what is good for the proverbial goose is good for the gander.
One apologist bitterly moaned and complained that atheists were using the Internet to target children. Guilty, as charged, though most social media providers have rules that prohibit young children from using their services. If your eight-year-old son is watching The Atheist Experience on Sundays, that’s on you, parents. Or you might question why your children are watching atheist programs like the ones mentioned above. If Christian children are watching atheist shows, it is a sign that they are not getting the answers they need from their parents, pastors, and churches. Children are Internet savvy. They know that the answers to their questions are a few clicks away. I have had numerous Christian teenagers and young adults contact me. I have had a few youthful readers send me questions to answer for a Christian school project of theirs. I always politely and honestly answer their questions, planting seeds that I hope will sprout and grow in time. I don’t press, push, or evangelize. I’m content to answer their questions, hoping that they develop rational, skeptical thinking skills.
I have been repeatedly asked over the years to stop publicly telling my story; that I was causing people to lose their faith. Here’s what I know: if the mere telling of my story directly causes Evangelical Christians to deconvert, their faith was on shallow ground to begin with. Many people already have one foot out the church door before they stumble upon my content. Regardless, I have no intention to stop telling my story or critiquing Evangelical Christianity.
Unlike many Evangelical churches, questions are always welcome on this site. I will do my best to answer them, and if I can’t, I will point questioners to authors and websites that can. More times than I can count, I have recommended readers read one or more books by Dr. Bart Ehrman. I know that doing so is the cure for Christian Fundamentalism and Bible inerrancy. Sadly, most people whom I recommend Ehrman to refuse to read his books. Why? Their pastors warned them about reading Bart’s books lest they lose their faith. It is a shallow faith, indeed, if one book can cause you to lose it. No single book caused me to deconvert. It took numerous books and podcasts to lead me out of the doors of the church. I suspect many of the readers of this blog will say the same thing.
Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
Your comments are welcome and appreciated. All first-time comments are moderated. Please read the commenting rules before commenting.
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