I recognize that telling my story publicly invites critique, criticism, and attack. I started blogging in 2007, and no matter where I am in my journey, there are people who think they “know” the real Bruce Gerencser; that they have pulled back the curtain of my life and exposed the real me. Never mind the fact that my critics rarely read my writing or make good faith efforts to truly understand my story. In their minds, they know everything they need to know about the man, myth, and legend, and they are ready to render judgment.
Evangelical zealots love to tell me that I never was a Christian; that my faith and devoted life as a follower of Jesus was a lie. Long-time readers know this claim irritates the hell out of me. By making this bald assertion, my Evangelical critics refuse to accept my story as told. Years ago, one Evangelical preacher told me, “Bruce, I know you better than you know yourself.” Sadly, more than a few Christians think they have the gift of divination; that they have some sort of innate ability to see the “real” me.
Occasionally — as was the case recently on the post Guilt: the Essence of Christianity — critics will take a different tack, suggesting that I am not an atheist; that I still believe in God, albeit a “different” God from the one from my Evangelical past.
Take a comment left by a woman by the name of Diane Villafane:
Thank you for being honest, and congratulations on taking a step ahead in your spiritual journey. I’ve been there and done that.
I wanted to add, I don’t think you are an atheist. You just came to a realization that God is not the anthropomorphic being described in the Bible.
Villafane read all of one post — which took her four minutes — and rendered judgment. She made no attempt to understand my story. Nope, she read a few hundred words and then concluded that despite what I say, I am NOT an atheist; that I have just changed concepts of God.
Why do some of my critics deny me the right to disbelieve?
Some people believe that there’s no such thing as atheists; that atheists deliberately suppress their knowledge of the existence of God. Evangelical presuppositionalists, in particular, say that the Christian God of the Bible has revealed himself to everyone through conscience, creation, and divine revelation (the Bible).
Others “sense” that I, deep down in my little ‘ole heart of hearts, still believe in God. These critics pick things out of my writing, seeing these nuggets as evidence of my continued belief in God. No matter what I say, they are convinced that I am still a Christian; or at the very least a believer in some sort a divine creator.
Some Evangelicals will argue that I can’t be an atheist because I profess to having been saved; that once a person is born again, he can never, ever, for any reason, lose his salvation. In their minds, I am a backslidden Christian, and, in time, God will chastise me and bring me back into the fold.
Here’s what I find interesting: everyone is entitled to their opinion and judgment about my past and present life — that is, except me. What I say doesn’t matter. “You SAY you are an atheist, Bruce, but I don’t believe you!” It is in moments such as this that I sigh. Is there no end to such stupidity? I know, I know, rhetorical question. As long as I put my story out there for the public to read, I am going to have people shape my storyline to fit their peculiar beliefs. All I know to do is to continue telling my story. If people refuse to accept my story at face value, there’s nothing I can do about it, other than utter a few choice swear words.
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 receive all sorts of emails every day, everything from personal attacks to honest questions. Rarely does a week go by where I don’t receive an email that deeply affects me emotionally. Several days ago, I received one such email from a young Evangelical Bible college student. After reading and pondering his words , I thought his email would be a great subject for a blog post.
I have removed all personally identifiable information. People who email me in good faith can rest assured that I will always protect their privacy. Here’s what this young man had to say:
I am a Biblical Studies major in pursuit of becoming a pastor. Growing up, faith was all I had and everything that I held onto. Over the past year, I have learned things about the faith and the church that have left me confused and hurt. I am going into student debt to pursue this “calling” I feel in my life. Yet, this calling has slowly faded away and I am sitting here writing this, confused on what to do or where to go. I am scared to let go of my faith, although I am not sure why. It is hard for me to ignore hard facts and scientific explanations. They just make sense. I know you said you have 25 years of ministry, and my whole life has been built up for me to go into ministry as well. I am looking for answers, and I do not know who to turn to as all of my family and friends are believers, and I honestly do not feel comfortable coming to them. Please write me back any advice, book to read, or just honestly someone to share experiences with.
I want to applaud this man for being willing at such a young age to question his beliefs and seek out answers to his doubts and questions. I wish I had the courage this young man has back when I was a student at Midwestern Baptist College in the mid-1970s. Sadly, I was a true-blue believer, and with nary a question or doubt, I continued on a ministerial path that led me to pastorates in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. I was fifty years old before questions and doubts overwhelmed belief and I deconverted.
My objective in responding to this man is NOT to convert him to atheism. I have never been an evangelist for atheism, and I don’t intend to be one. My goal remains the same as always: to help people who have doubts and questions about Christianity or who have already deconverted. I see myself as a facilitator. To use a worn-out cliché, life really is a journey. Evangelicalism teaches — dare I say demands — believers to focus on the destination — Heaven or Hell, and not the journey. Life is little more than preparation for meeting and living with God in the life to come. I challenge people to see that life is all about the journey. Your destination is immaterial. Walk the path that is in front of you, following its course wherever it leads. In doing so, you will end up exactly where you need to be. My only regret is that I waited until I was in my forties before I realized this grand truth.
This man comes from a family who is devoted to Jesus. I can only imagine how painful his doubts and questions are as he thinks about how seeking answers might affect his relationship with his family. As many readers of this blog know firsthand, daring to step outside of the prescribed rut of Evangelical faith can lead to catastrophic consequences. Verbalizing such things can lead to estrangement and excommunication. That’s why I warn people in the post Count the Cost Before You Say I Am an Atheist to carefully consider confessing unbelief to Evangelical family and friends. Once you share your doubts and questions or admit you no longer believe, you no longer control what happens next. That’s why several commenters on this blog call themselves atheist Christians. Family (or economic) concerns prevent them from being out and proud. I would say to this young man: ponder carefully what you say or do going forward. Weigh the consequences carefully.
The email writer mentions having a “calling,” that he is attending an Evangelical college to pursue that calling. Evangelicals believe that men are “called” by God into the ministry. I wrote about that very subject two weeks ago in a post titled, I’m a Prophet, Preacher, or Evangelist Because I Say I Am. When you believe that God is “calling” you, it can be quite a struggle when you begin to doubt not only your call, but also your beliefs. I remember the struggles I had over trying to reconcile what I believed was a divine calling with my waning faith. In the end, my slide down the slippery slope of unbelief destroyed any notion of a divine calling. As an atheist and a humanist, I still have a sense of what I consider a “calling.” Not in a supernatural sense, of course, but I still feel drawn to helping others — Christian or not.
I am more than forty years older than this young man. I try to picture myself at the age of twenty-one sitting in my dorm room questioning my faith. This man is surrounded by people who appear resolute in their Christian beliefs, yet he has doubts and questions. Is there something wrong with him? Of course not, though Evangelical zealots will say that this man is being tempted by Satan, battling “secret” sin, or is not a True Christian®. Remember, questions and doubts are not really permitted in Evangelical circles. Oh, apologists will beg to differ, but the fact remains that doubts and questions are permissible only if they lead to Biblical answers. Straying outside of the safe confines of the Evangelical box is verboten, as is asking an ex-Evangelical-turned-atheist preacher for help. (Please see The Danger of Being in a Box and Why it Makes Sense When You are in it and What I Found When I Left the Box.)
When doubting Evangelicals ask me for advice, I typically suggest that they read Dr. Bart Ehrman’s books. The reason I do so is because Ehrman, a professor of Religious Studies at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill and a leading authority on the New Testament and the history of early Christianity, is a former Evangelical. Ehrman began his ministerial training at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, and Wheaton College, in Wheaton, Illinois — both staunch Evangelical institutions. He finished his M.Div. and Ph.D. at Princeton Theological Seminary. Today, he is the author of numerous books on the history of the New Testament.
Evangelicals typically believe that the Bible is the inspired, inerrant, infallible Word of God. This belief is foundational to Evangelical faith, and that’s why I point doubters to Ehrman’s books. Written on a popular level, Ehrman’s books lay siege to and destroy the Evangelical notion that the Bible is in any way inerrant or infallible. Inspired? That’s a faith claim. Inerrancy and infallibility, on the other hand, are matters of facts and evidence.
I would suggest that this man read several of Ehrman’s books. Here’s a partial list of his works:
Ehrman recently released a book titled, Heaven and Hell: A History of the Afterlife. I am currently reading through this book. Fascinating, to say the least. I have concluded, so far, that there’s a lot I don’t know about Heaven or Hell from a historical or Biblical perspective.
I am confident that reading Ehrman’s books will disabuse all but the most stubborn of Evangelicals of their belief that the Bible is an inspired, inerrant, infallible text. While coming to an enlightened conclusion about the Bible does not necessarily lead to unbelief, it does render Evangelical dogma untenable. Once this happens, an Evangelical is ready to take a hard look at what it is he really believes. Once the Bible loses its power and authority over a believer, he is free to let facts and science determine the validity of religious beliefs. For me personally, skeptically and intellectually examining the core tenets of Christianity led me to conclude that these beliefs could not be rationally sustained. Your mileage may vary. Many ex-Evangelicals find ways to hang on to some sort of Christian faith. Any move away from the Fundamentalist tendencies of Evangelicalism is a good one. (Please see Are Evangelicals Fundamentalists?)
I hope this young man will continue to correspond with me. I sincerely wish nothing but the best for him, realizing that difficult days lie ahead for him if he continues to walk the path he is on. Unlike Evangelical family and friends, I am more than willing to help regardless of where his journey takes him. I have six grown children, all of whom were raised in Evangelical churches. Not only was I their father and prison warden, but I was also their pastor. After Polly and I left Christianity in 2008, I have watched as my children have struggled with matters of faith. Their respective journeys have taken them away from Evangelicalism, but not necessarily towards unbelief. The unbelief of their parents, especially their preacher father, gave them the freedom to wander; to seek knowledge and understanding outside of the narrow confines of Fundamentalism. I wish the same for this young man.
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.
When he battled liberal churches and preachers, they loved him.
When he battled Democrats, they loved him.
And then he became too liberal for them.
When he battled Fundamentalists, they loved him.
When he battled those who preached cheap grace, they loved him.
And then he became too liberal for them.
When he battled the institutional church, they loved him.
When he battled mega-churches and TV preachers, they loved him.
And then he became too liberal for them.
One day he realized that he had spent his entire life battling, and to what end?
No one stood by him.
The great battler stood alone.
Along the way, he had changed.
And when he changed, they walked away.
He learned a hard lesson.
They never really did love him.
They loved his smart writing.
They loved his stand for truth.
They loved his personality.
They loved everything about him except what mattered.
When he needed them the most, they were nowhere to be found.
He made them “uncomfortable,” they said,
He had changed.
He wasn’t what or who he used to be.
What happened to him, they asked?
Perhaps the real question is this: what happened to them?
He often feels like a one-night stand.
Used.
He still fights the battle.
But now the battle is within.
He battles the demons of the past,
He battles the reality of the present.
And he battles fear of tomorrow.
He is forced to forge new relationships.
Why does he feel closest to people whom he has never met?
He used to laugh at the very notion of internet friends, yet where would he be today without them?
They read what he writes and offer their opinion.
They agree, they disagree, but they let him be who he is.
They require no fidelity or obedience.
What’s a battling old preacher to do?
The fires still burns.
Passion still stirs in his being.
But the old battles provide no fight.
So he looks for new battles to fight.
Maybe he will fight for those scarred and damaged by the gods.
Maybe he will fight for those who cannot or fearfully will not fight for themselves.
Maybe he will fight for those whose lives have been ruined by People of the Way.
Maybe he will fight for a better world for his children and grandchildren.
There are still battles to fight.
Choose who and what you will fight for.
And forget those who only loved you for the battles you fought.
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 the fall of my tenth grade year, I made a public profession of faith at Trinity Baptist Church in Findlay, Ohio. I was fifteen. I vividly remember sitting with my church friends several rows back on the left side of the auditorium as Evangelist Al Lacey preached the gospel. I had heard over a thousand sermons by that time, yet on this night the preacher’s words struck pay dirt in my wicked, sinful heart. When it came time for the invitation — a time at the end of the service when the congregation stands, sings an invitation hymn such as Just as I Am, and the preacher pleads with people to come forward to get saved, rededicate their lives to Christ, join the church, or any other decision God may be laying on their hearts — I wasted no time stepping out of my pew and coming to the front. I was met there by an altar worker and deacon named Ray Salisbury. Ray knelt with me at the altar, took me through the plan of salvation, and had me pray to ask Jesus to save me. When I got up from the altar, it was if a heavy burden had been lifted from life.
Two weeks later, I went forward again, this time to let the church know that God was calling me to preach. Outside of people getting saved, there was no greater shared experience than a young man saying God was calling him into the ministry. Youth pastor Bruce Turner quickly took me under his wing. (Please see Dear Bruce Turner.) Two weeks later, I preached my first sermon from 2 Corinthians 5:20:
Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God.
By the time I left the ministry in 2005, at age of forty-eight, I had preached over four thousand sermons, and pastored Evangelical churches in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan.
One of the questions my Evangelical interlocutors often ask is this: Bruce, what is the REAL reason you left the ministry? To these people, the reasons I give for leaving the ministry and later leaving Christianity are suspect. Several days ago, I re-read a post of mine John Loftus posted ten years ago on the Debunking Christianity website. I had forgotten the accusations Evangelical commenters had thrown my way (any grammar and spelling errors in the original comments):
Cathy: So the wolf has finally taken off his sheep’s clothes. Took a while. (Cathy is a member of Community Baptist Church in Elmendorf, Texas, a church I co-pastored in 1994. Please see the series I am a Publican and a Heathen.)
Dimitrios: Are you still married? There is more to this story than what you are leading us to………I recognize this is your story, but I can’t help but sense there is more to this than simply “losing” your faith. Are you a homosexual?
Dimitrios: Please disregard my last post…and, I apologize…I see from earlier posts that your wife is still with you. I’ve experienced people “leaving” their faith, due to a lifestyle attraction that was not supported by the church. In any event, I still feel there is more, but perhaps it is best unsaid.
Rusty: what a crock of horse manure if I ever read any.
Guest: I have doubts as to whether your testimony is truthful. but one thing I do know… It is incomplete. of all the journey and hardship you testify of — I don’t recall you mentioning the lord Jesus. It would appear that you became a baptist … not a born again Christian — you burnt yourself out serving a man made establishment. it is not possible to burn yourself out serving God as firstly it is a matter of loving him — to do so you must fall in love with God — after this, all things have joy, good and bad situations, have joy just as it is a joy to endure any amount of hardship for a child you love with all your heart, so it is a joy to endure anything for God, when you love him.
YoBro1: To Bruce G. So…..what really IS your problem? I’m not gonna quote scriptures and tell everyone off. We be praying for you here in Az man. Your brutal truth about what has happend to you, has happend to many as well. Just like Job, he wanted to discredit God and make his wrong justified to make himself feel better. Your you, and you know when the time is right. But, remember He keeps knocking at everyones heart. Be blessed.
Steven Shull: It does sound as if you have an injury that never healed and you blame God or the church for it. Maybe I am wrong. But you kind of come across that way. The Bible says in Ephesians 6:10 that we wrestle not against Flesh & Blood but against principalities and spiritual forces of evil (demons). If you don’t believe your enemy exists or is at war with you. Then that line of thought just gives that enemy even more power to mess with you as he sees fit. As I have said earlier I have been through similar situations in the Church. But rather then trying to find fault with the people in the church or learning Hebrew and Greek so I can study a more perfected Bible translation. I made the extra effort to see who was pulling the levers behind the scenes. Like the wizard of OZ. You find someone hiding behind the curtain. Someone desperately hoping to be dismissed (he needs that to happen) so he can help people discredit God and His word by causing Christians to not see who really is at fault. Then people will fight among themselves and blame God for the outcome.
Straightforward: that’s what happens when man turn to the other side. or they have been there, just that they hid it for sometime.
Over the past thirteen years, countless Evangelical zealots have left similar comments on this blog or sent them to me in emails. Unable or willing to accept my story at face value, they look for the “real” reason I left the ministry and later deconverted. Most often, my critics think I had some sort of secret sin in my life? Did I have an affair? Was I child molester? Did I steal from one or more of the churches I pastored? Was I a deceiver, a false prophet, a wolf in sheep’s clothing? The list of sins I allegedly committed is endless. No evidence is given for these allegations. My critics just KNOW in their heart of hearts that there must be some secret reason for such radical changes in my life. What God called preacher would ever leave the ministry or abandon Christian altogether. No, no, no, there must be some reason for me leaving the ministry and leaving Christianity other than what I have said.
These kind of people used to irritate the hell out of me. I thought, “why can’t they just accept what I have to say? Why try to trash my character and reputation? Why make me out to be a liar? Over the years, I have learned that when some Evangelicals read my story, it causes them to doubt their own salvation, leading to cognitive dissonance. Instead of examining their own lives, they dig for ways to dismiss mine. They comb through my life with a lice comb, hoping to find nits that prove that I was never a True Christian®; that I was a tool of Satan; that I was a false prophet.
When Evangelical zealots take this approach with me, I no longer try to help them see the light. Instead, I tell them, believe what you will. My critics would love to see COVID-19 take me out, but until it or some other disease claims my life, I plan to continue telling my story. I am one man with a story to tell, and I still have a few more chapters to write.
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.
Repost from 2015. Edited, rewritten, and corrected.
I have spent the past twelve years answering questions about WHY I stopped believing in the existence of God. Yet, some readers still can’t understand why I am no longer a Christian. I even wrote two posts answering the WHY question: Why I Stopped Believing and Please Help Me Understand Why You Stopped Believing. The former was written for an obstinate Christian commenter, and the latter was written for a former parishioner — who later unfriended me on Facebook because she found my story so troubling.
What follows are sixteen reasons WHY I am not a Christian. There are many more reasons than these, but this list should satisfy those who continue to prod and poke, trying to find the REAL reason(s) I am no longer a Christian.
I no longer think the Bible is a God-inspired text.
I no longer think the Bible is an inerrant text.
I no longer think Jesus is God.
I no longer think Jesus was virgin-born.
I no longer think Jesus turned water into wine, walked on water, healed the sick, raised the dead, or performed any of the other miracles the Bible says he did.
I no longer think Jesus resurrected from the dead. Jesus lived and died, never to be seen again.
I no longer think there is a Heaven or a Hell.
I think the belief that God will torture all non-Christians in Hell for all eternity is repugnant, abhorrent, revolting, repulsive, repellent, disgusting, offensive, objectionable, cringeworthy, vile, foul, nasty, loathsome, sickening, nauseating, hateful, detestable, execrable, abominable, monstrous, appalling, insufferable, intolerable, unacceptable, contemptible, unsavory, and unpalatable.
I think the Bible shows a progression of belief from polytheism to monotheism.
I think the Bible teaches multiple plans of salvation.
I think much of the so-called history found in the Bible is fictional.
I think the Bible God is an abhorrent, violent deity, one I would not worship even if I believed it existed.
I think science best explains the natural world.
I no longer think humans are sinners.
I think humanism provides a moral and ethical basis for life.
I see no evidence for the existence of the Christian God; thus I am an atheist.
These reasons are based on a lifetime spent studying the Bible and studying the textual, historical, and moral underpinnings of Christianity. These studies led me to conclude that the Christian God is a fiction, as is much of the Christian narrative.
If I had any doubt about these things, twelve years of interacting with Christians on this blog have led me to conclude that Christianity, as currently practiced in the West, is bankrupt. I see nothing in Christianity that would ever cause me to reconsider my rejection of the Christian God.
While I have many online friends who are liberal/progressive Christians, I cannot intellectually embrace their beliefs. Since none of them thinks I’m headed for Hell when I die, I hope they understand why I cannot embrace their faith.
I refuse to let others control my storyline. It’s my life, and who knows it better than I do? All I know to do is tell my story. Each reader is free to accept or reject what I write.
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.
Repost from 2015. Edited, rewritten, and corrected.
I have been blogging since 2007. When I started blogging, I was an Emerging church, red-letter Christian who, along with his wife, was desperately seeking a church that took the teachings of Jesus Christ seriously. (Please see But Our Church is DIFFERENT!)
Our search took us to many churches. We found that Christian churches, regardless of the name on the sign, were largely vapid, empty places, filled with good people who were more concerned with church amenities and programs than following Jesus. We came to the conclusion that, whatever Christianity might have been 2,000 years ago, it died long ago. In its place has grown up an institutionalized church more concerned with power, money, and right beliefs than following after the Prince of Peace, Jesus the Christ.
The last church we attended was the Ney United Methodist Church, pastored by a fine young pastor I greatly admire. By this time, we were already at the back of the church with one foot out the door, and in November of 2008 we turned around, put the other foot out the door, and walked away from Christianity.
There was nothing wrong with the Ney United Methodist Church or its pastor Ron Adkins. Great people. Kind people. Good people. And they were just like every other Christian church we visited. We came to see that churches really are social clubs, especially here in rural northwest Ohio, where churches are often filled with people with similar last names. The churches are like a family reunion every Sunday.
I pastored for the last time in 2003. After being badgered by several colleagues in the ministry about using the gifts God had given me, in 2005 I candidated at several Southern Baptist churches in West Virginia. While two churches wanted me to consider being their pastor, it became clear to both Polly and me that we no longer wanted to be in the ministry. We were burnt out, no longer willing to work for poverty wages and few benefits. Between 2003 and November 2008, various Christians who knew me labeled me as burnt out, depressed, under an attack by Satan, or a good man gone bad. I was still viewed as a Christian, but due to my changing theology, many of the Evangelicals who knew me now considered me a liberal. Those of you who began reading this blog in 2007 will remember my word battles with Pastor John Chisham, aka PastorBoy, over the gospel and salvation. (Chisham is now divorced, remarried, and no longer a pastor.)
Like many Evangelicals who become atheists, I took a long, bumpy, winding train ride to get to atheism. I started out as an Evangelical, then a Progressive Evangelical, then an Emerging Church Evangelical, then a Red-Letter Christian, then a Liberal Christian, then a Universalist, then an Agnostic, and then, finally, I arrived at the Atheist station. Polly arrived at the station not too long after I did.
All told, I was a Christian for almost fifty years. I spent three of those years in Bible college, preached for thirty-three years, and pastored churches for twenty-five years. During this time, no one ever said, I doubt Bruce is a Christian. No one ever doubted my commitment to Christ or my desire to follow Jesus.
But now it is different. Because I am now an atheist, Christians are quick to say I never was a Christian or that I was a false prophet, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. How else to explain my story, right?
Some Christians take a different approach. They question my character, my truthfulness. They say things like, “IF Bruce Gerencser’s story is true” or “Bruce Gerencser CLAIMS he was a Christian.” If you search the internet, you will find claims like this on blogs and forums. Several years ago, Lee Shelton, the Contemporary Calvinist wrote:
Bruce Gerencser, an atheist who claims to have once been a Christian…
This is a classic example of the passive-aggressive approach Christians take with me when they read my story. They seem to be unable to accept my story at face value, Of course, I know why. My story doesn’t fit their neatly defined theological grid. Lee Shelton is a five-point Calvinist, and since I didn’t persevere in grace that means I never really was a Christian. I was a temporary believer, not one of the elect to whom God has extended his special, discriminate grace. Of course, I could just be on a time-out and someday I will return to Christianity and persevere to the end. Shelton doesn’t consider THAT possibility.
Here’s what I think. Many Christians find my story threatening. They wonder, if a man like Bruce Gerencser, a lifelong Christian and a pastor, can fall from grace or live a long life of deception, perhaps this could happen to me too. None of the people who called me pastor or considered me a ministerial colleague ever doubted that I was anything but a dedicated, sold-out-for-Jesus Christian. So, either I really was what I claim I was OR I am the best liar and deceiver who has ever lived. And trust me, I am a terrible liar.
Everywhere I look, I see agnostics and atheists who were once devoted followers of Jesus Christ. Pastors, youth directors, worship leaders, missionaries, deacons, evangelists, soulwinners, bus workers, and Sunday school teachers; on-fire, filled-with-the-Holy-Ghost Christians. Thousands of former followers of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords read this blog. Were all of these washed-in-the-blood Christians deceived, never having tasted the goodness of God? Would a scientist doing a study on this group conclude that they were false Christians? Of course not. In every way, they were once numbered among those who followed the lamb wherever he went. When Jesus said “follow me,” they cast their nets aside, forsook all, and followed him. No matter what they now are, the past cannot be erased by the wave of a magic theological wand.
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.
Two weeks ago, I wrote a post titled, Beware of Evangelicals Coming in the Name of “Friendship.” In that post, I used the writing of Evangelical preacher and professor Larry Dixon as an example of how “friendship evangelism” is a manipulative, deceitful method used to evangelize non-Evangelicals in the name of friendship. In essence, friendship evangelism promoters encourage zealots to make fake friendships with people so they can witness to them.
I always find interesting and amusing how Evangelicals respond to disagreements such as the one between Bruce, the Evangelical-turned-atheist and Larry, the “let’s be friends” Evangelical preacher. Not a lot of comment traffic on Dixon’s blog, but what follows is four comments readers of this site might find interesting. Enjoy!
Linn says:
It will be interesting to see if BG does reply. I’m not sure how I stumbled on his website (which also led me to your blog, which I am enjoying), but I found what he wrote very intriguing, at first. At this point, he posts seem very repetitive. I thought I might gain some insight into why people reject Jesus, but it seems more like everyone who is a Christian is either a hypocrite or believes in fairy tales. He seems to have run out of arguments. Most of my family is non-Christian. After we go through all of their arguments, it always comes down to “I don’t want to.” They do not want to admit that they are sinners before a holy God Who loves them and provided a way of escape through the death and resurrection of HIs Son.
Kenenbom says:
Well written, Larry. I’d be tempted to write this off as a lost cause, but your perseverance models the Good Shepherd.
Anonymous says:
Larry,
Thank you for your persistence with him. The choices in Bruce’s’ worldview hold no consequences while choices within your worldview does. I would say either Bruce was not saved to begin with or that his buried faith will only come forth in the event of real personal crisis in his life. God is not done with him yet. What Bruce is forgetting, regardless of ones world view, is that life has a way of turning on us. Meaning illness, accidents, fear of death etc.. These things we do not wish on anyone, however unfortunately the brush with the brevity of life often can give the sinner one more chance to make things right with God. Prayer is essential at this point.
Butch says:
Dr. Dixon, I wanted to say that when Bruce makes the statement, “but could it be that you’re trying to justify your delusional need and worship of a dead man named Jesus?” it tells me that he (Bruce) does not even believe that Christ has risen and the He lives. We don’t server a dead God, but a God that is alive and loves us unconditionally. I believe that this is Bruce’s issue, and until he believes that Christ is alive, he will always be lost. What we need to do is keep Bruce in our prayers and ask our loving God to show him that he lives, and he cares!
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 62, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 41 years. He and his wife have six grown children and twelve 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. For more information about Bruce, please read the About page.
Thank you for reading this post. Please share your thoughts in the comment section. If you are a first-time commenter, please read the commenting policy before wowing readers with your words. All first-time comments are moderated. If you would like to contact Bruce directly, please use the contact form to do so.Donations are always appreciated. Donations on a monthly basis can be made through Patreon. One-time donations can be made through PayPal.
I was recently interviewed by journalist Manny Otiko. Manny writes:
A few years ago, I heard about the practice of ministers who lost their faith and walked away from the clergy. These are not isolated incidents. Ex-ministers even have their own support group called The Clergy Project, which has 1,000 members, according to its website. I was always curious about how someone quits being a minister. Here is an interview with Bruce Gerencser, a former minister, who now describes himself as a humanist.
Have you ever noticed how so many atheists refer to God as god. The big G is intentionally changed to a little g. Why? Because in doing so, god becomes more like a unicorn or fairy. There is nothing remarkable about a god. A god is just one more thing in our reality. A curious thing, yes, but just another thing. In fact, many atheists go even further and speaks of “the gods” instead of God. A group of gods becomes even more unremarkable. [Years ago, an Evangelical zealot argued that my capitalization of words such as God and Bible proved I wasn’t an atheist.]
Freshman class, Midwestern Baptist College, Pontiac, Michigan 1976. Polly is in the first row, the first person from the left. I am in the third row, the eighth person from the left.
From time to time, I will receive an email from a former college acquaintance. I have yet to receive a letter from someone saying that they, too, lost their faith. As far as I know, I am the only out-and-proud atheist who attended Midwestern Baptist College. I am sure there are others, but I don’t know about them. Maybe they are closet atheists who must remain so due to their ongoing connection with Christianity through their families or other social connections. Or, perhaps, they don’t see the value in publicly outing themselves as atheists. If I gave a complete report of all I had to experience and endure since deconverting, closeted atheists would say, “See, look at Bruce Gerencser. Why would I subject myself to such abuse? No thanks!” This would especially be true for those who attended/graduated from Midwestern.
Midwestern, an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) institution, had zero tolerance for deviance from the truths once to delivered allegedly by God to the late Tom Malone, the chancellor of the college and the pastor of the now-defunct Emmanuel Baptist Church. College administrators, professors, and dorm supervisors were expected to enforce the letter of the law, both doctrinally and practically. Violating these inviolable norms was considered a capital crime, resulting in expulsion from Midwestern. Fearing such an ignoble outcome, most students, at the very least, outwardly obeyed. I suspect being educated in such an environment leads to people being hesitant to oppose and reject religious and social norms — at least externally.
We know, however, that Christians can and do change over time, even if changes in theology and practice are not publicly expressed. What develops, then, is cognitive dissonance — the attempt to hold onto to competing truths/beliefs/ideas. None of us is exempt from cognitive dissonance. All we can do is skeptically, logically, and rationally examine our beliefs — our truth — and determine whether they deserve our continued support. But even then it is hard for Evangelicals, in particular, to publicly abandon previously held beliefs. The personal, social, communal, and economic costs for Evangelicals willing to talk out loud about their questions, doubts, or even loss of faith are often so severe that many people cannot bear the weight of that burden. This is especially so for clergymen.
In my case, in particular, I came from a sect that granted no quarter to dissenters. The anger and outrage over my deconversion continue to fuel attacks, almost twelve years later. I grossly underestimated how friends, family members, congregants, and ministerial colleagues would respond upon hearing of my divorce from Jesus. (Please read Dear Family, Friends, and Former Parishioners.) That’s why I later wrote the post, Count the Cost Before You Say I am an Atheist. I have written the above to say that I understand why other former Midwestern students, pastors, evangelists, missionaries, and pastors’ wives who have left the “one true faith” or may now be atheists keep their heresy and apostasy to themselves. However, personally, I have never been one to keep things to myself. That’s not just me. I don’t judge others who are not so inclined. I just wish I were granted the same courtesy. As readers shall see from the email I received below, some Evangelicals wish I would just shut up and move on.
This Midwestern graduate attended the college at the same time as Polly and I did. I believe he was a year or two ahead of us, married by the time we arrived at Midwestern in the Fall of 1976. My primary interaction with him was through college societies, social events, and religious activities. We were acquaintances, but not friends. With that background in mind, let me take a stab at responding to Roger’s questions.
I get it. Things went bad for you, the “lines didn’t fall out in pleasant places” for you. I can’t even imagine what you have been through based on some of your writings.
Roger does not give any context here, so I am not sure what he means when he says things went bad for me. All in all, I have pleasant and happy memories from my time at Midwestern and the twenty-five years I spent in the ministry. The same could be said for growing up in a dysfunctional home. Yes, lots of shit happened — bad stuff no child should ever have to experience — but on balance I had a pleasant upbringing. Certainly moving all the time, my mom’s repeated suicide attempts, poverty, and other stressors affected me psychologically. All of us are sum of our experiences. While I would not wish my past life on anyone else, I can say that some of the things I experienced made me a better person; things that fuel my passion as a writer to this day.
As a pastor, I met thousands of people. Many of them were kind, decent, loving people, and others still were Grade A assholes I wouldn’t give the time of day to if I came in contact with them to this day. That’s life, right? The difference between now and then is that as a pastor I felt duty-bound to love everyone unconditionally. As an atheist, no such compulsion drives me. I no longer willingly subject myself to be misused, abused, and used by people. Want to be my friend? Be a decent human being. If not, fuck off.
I have had my own struggles, most of which in my case were my fault. I am divorced and re-married, not in vocational ministry. I have been through church disciple, accountability, and restoration. In my case I have to blame the guy in the mirror.
Roger shares with me a bit of his own past experiences, some of which I have heard about via the Midwestern grapevine. I didn’t know Roger that well, so I made no judgment about what I had heard. I remember being disappointed over the failure of his marriage, but, again, since I really didn’t know him or his wife very well, I refrained from making a judgment.
One thing I have learned as an atheist is that it is probably best to not make hard and fast judgments about the marriages and families of others. “How well do we know anyone, even our spouses?” I remind myself. How can I, from the outside, render judgment on Roger’s past, his failed marriage, and his remarriage. I briefly looked at his Facebook profile. He “seemed” happy, devoted to his family. Over the past four weeks, I have been contacted by two former congregants, a former friend, and now, with Roger, a former collegemate. All but one of them took a negative tack with me, hoping that I might see the light and return to Christianity. (Please see Dear Greg.) The former friend who didn’t told me to call him sometime, so I am sure he is waiting for the right time to bring up my defection from Christianity. (And if not, he would be the first person not to do so.)
As with Roger, I looked up the Facebook profiles of the people who contacted me. Everyone, again, “seemed” happy, and since I only know them from a distance, I am content to accept their social media presentations as accurate description of their lives. It doesn’t really matter, does it? We are never going to become friends again. Our common bond rests in our shared past history. Since I know it is impossible for Evangelicals to accept me as I am, attempting to re-connect with them is a waste of time.
Roger didn’t email me because he wanted to reconnect with an old school buddy. We were never close to start with. If Wendell Uhl, Bill Duttry, Mike Lavery, Tim Rettger, Mark Bullock, or Bill Kuiper — all dormmates, friends, of mine — emailed me and said, “Hey Bruce, I’m traveling through your part of Ohio and I would sure love to share lunch with you and Polly” I would probably say yes. We have shared intimate history. I don’t have that kind of history with Roger.
Instead, Roger has a passive-aggressive point to make: that his life was a mess too, and most of it was his fault. Translation: Bruce, your life was/is a mess, and it’s your fault. If only I would own my past culpability and mistakes, I could then be set free from the path I am on. I am not sure how much of my blog Roger has actually read, but I think I can safely say that I have done a pretty good job at owning my past. What bothers many of the people who knew me as a pastor, friend, collegemate, or colleague in the ministry is that I am willing to publicly talk about these things. As you will see in a moment, Roger wants me to shut up and move on. Admit my culpability and turn the page.
So here is my sincere question. If you are a humanist, and dedicated to bettering the human race we all live in, why the disparaging remarks about churches, pastors, ministries, etc? Why not let it go and move onto positive things. As you have documented there are some real jerks and insincere people in ministry. Some not so, but I get it.
Part of bettering the human race is exposing how certain expressions of religious faith cause psychological harm, and can, in some instances, cause physical harm. The IFB church movement is a cult. And quite frankly, so is much of Evangelical Christianity. Am I not helping people by exposing these religions and their promoters for who and what they are? Wouldn’t people be better off if they were free from the pernicious mind-numbing hold of Fundamentalist preachers and churches? Countless Evangelical/IFB pastors and congregants have been helped by my writing. I know this because they write to tell me how much my work has meant to them. It is surely a good day when someone reads my writing and decides to walk away from Christian Fundamentalism. My goal has never been to be an evangelist for atheism. If something I write helps people move on to kinder, gentler, more inclusive expression of faith, mission accomplished.
Sadly, Roger’s email reflects a common belief among Evangelicals. Sure, pastors, churches, and ministries do bad things at times, but why point those things out? Move on, and let God sort things out. Here’s the thing: there is no God, so it is impossible for him to sort things out. Thus, it is left up to us, the only gods who walk on the face of earth, to do the sorting. As long as Evangelical churches, pastors, and institutions harm others, I intend I speak out.
Why not let all the garbage go and work at improving life for those in your sphere?
What Roger calls garbage, I call harm that pastors, evangelists, missionaries, churches, and colleges cause those who come under their care. Vile things have been done in the name of the Evangelical God and the “cause” of Christ. How can anyone stay silent and move on? The waiting rooms of psychiatrists, psychologists, and counselors are filled with patients materially damaged, harmed, and scarred by Fundamentalist religious ideology. Every year, people kill themselves over the harm done to them by so-called “men of God.” Am I not improving the lives of such people if I am willing to openly and honestly talk about my IFB upbringing and the twenty-five years I spent pastoring Evangelical churches? Believe me, thousands of readers appreciate the fact I understand where they are coming from. My writing validates their own experiences. And therein lies the problem. I am not someone who can be easily dismissed. First, I refuse to go away. Second, I know Evangelical Christianity in general, and the IFB church movement specifically, inside and outside. “I know,” as the mob hitman would say, “where the bodies are buried.” Third, most of the time, I enjoy my work. Doesn’t pay well, but sure has wonderful benefits — helping free people from religious bondage.
That said, writing for this blog is a small part of my life. I have a wife, six grown children, and thirteen grandchildren. Yes, thirteen. Our newest grandson, Silas, was born two weeks ago. That’s likely it for us. Time to move on to the great-grandchildren phase of life. As long-time readers know, I am a family guy. I wasn’t always this way. It took losing my faith to learn what really mattered to me. It is family that gives my life breath to breathe and reason to get up in the morning and painfully face another day. Sure, writing is important to me, but I’d never write another word if forced to choose between this blog and family. Spring and summer will soon arrive, and I plan on spending as much time as I can going to my grandkids’ ballgames, attending sporting events with my sons, enjoying family picnics, wining and dining my girlfriend, and taking road trips — all with camera in hand.
Roger ends his email by saying, “I hope you have a good day. I am genuinely sorry about your health issues. I have good memories of our time at MBC.” I indeed hope I have a good day, and I wish the same for Roger and his family. I appreciate his sympathy for my health problems. I too, have fond memories of Midwestern Baptist College, many of which I have shared on the pages of this blog. The difference between us is that I am willing to honestly and openly talk about the not-so-fond memories; the dark, harmful memories I have too. I want the telling of my life to be one of truth, all of it, and not just the parts that cast me (or others) in a favorable light. I leave it to others to judge the sum of my life.
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 62, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 41 years. He and his wife have six grown children and twelve 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. For more information about Bruce, please read the About page.
Thank you for reading this post. Please share your thoughts in the comment section. If you are a first-time commenter, please read the commenting policy before wowing readers with your words. All first-time comments are moderated. If you would like to contact Bruce directly, please use the contact form to do so.
Donations are always appreciated. Donations on a monthly basis can be made through Patreon. One-time donations can be made through PayPal.
