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, 68, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 47 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
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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.
I put out the call to readers, asking them for questions they would like me to answer. If you have a question, please leave it here or email me. All questions will be answered in the order in which they are received.
Steve asked:
What was unanswered for me by your comments on faith and the loss of your faith in God, is what happened. I wrestle with confusing contradictions of definition and practice in my own life, but for me God never got lost in that ongoing struggle. In fact, my frailty and understanding of my human weakness has come clearly into view while the faithfulness and forgiveness of God is my only hope. I just want to understand what happened on the path from your faith in God to atheism. Maybe how did you come to faith first and what dissolved it?
Life has been very hard, but God is still real. What made that different for you?
Since December 2014, I have written 3,545 posts, totaling 2,963,575 words. Suffice it to say, I have written extensively about my journey from Evangelicalism to atheism. I have told, re-told, and told again what led me to file for divorce from Jesus. Yet, despite all of this, many Christians still don’t understand WHY I am no longer a Christian. Steve is one such person.
Why do some Christians have such a hard time understanding my story; understanding my loss of faith? The main reason, I believe, is their inability to wrap their minds around the fact of a devoted, committed Evangelical pastor turning his back on everything he held dear. Jesus is the everything of Evangelicalism. He’s a lover, savior, friend, and confidant. He is the alpha and omega; the first and the last; the beginning and the end. I am sure Steve wonders, “why would anyone ever want to walk away from Jesus; walk away from the forgiveness of sins and life eternal; walk away from a life filled with meaning, purpose, and direction?”
I pastored thousands of people over the course of twenty-five years in the ministry. More than a few people struggle with accepting that I am no longer a Christian; that I am no longer a pastor; that I am no longer the passionate lover of Jesus they warmly and lovingly called Preacher. These people reflect on my sermons, passion for evangelism, commitment to sound doctrine, and tireless labors and ask themselves, “what happened?”
What happened, as I have detailed numerous times, is that once I no longer believed that the Bible was an inspired, inerrant, infallible text, I was then free to re-examine the claims of Christianity. I spent countless hours pondering the beliefs I once held dear. Sure, there were emotional aspects of my deconversion, but ultimately my decision to walk away from Christianity had to do with one simple fact: I no longer believed the central claims of Christianity to be true. I concluded cardinal doctrines such as the virgin birth of Jesus, his resurrection from the dead, and the miracles recorded in the gospels could not be rationally sustained. (Please see The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense) Once these beliefs fell by the wayside it was clear to me that whatever I was, I wasn’t a Christian. So, on the last Sunday of November in 2008, I walked out of the back door of the Ney United Methodist Church, never to return.
Yes, Bruce, I get all that, but WHAT happened? And therein lies the problem for many of my interlocutors. They have convinced themselves that I am hiding a secret of some sort — the REAL reason I deconverted. What such people want is an emotional explanation for my loss of faith. Surely there’s a trauma of some sort buried deep in the recesses of my story. I hate to break it to people, but there’s no untold secret. I have done all I can possibly do to honestly, openly, and completely tell my story. I don’t know what else I can say to people other than to say, read my blog! (Start with the WHY page.)
Part of the problem for Christians such as Steve is that they compare their lives to mine. Steve speaks of living a hard life, yet knowing that the Christian God is real and ever with him. Surely, it should be the same for me, right? I am not one to compare my life to the lives of others. Life is complex and messy, and each of us has unique circumstances and experiences. Instead of trying to find the one thing that led to my loss of faith, I wish Christians would just accept my story at face value. Many Christians cannot square my story with their own stories and beliefs. That’s not my problem. All I know is this: I once was saved, and now I am not. I once was a follower of Jesus, and now I am not.
Christians often look for defects in my story. Steve asking about how I came to faith is a good example of this approach. If a defect in the conversion process can be found, then my story makes perfect sense. I never was a Christian! See, I didn’t follow the right steps. Of course, such thinking is absurd. In the twenty-five years I spent pastoring churches, not one congregant, Christian friend, or ministerial colleague ever doubted my salvation or commitment to Christian orthodoxy and the teachings of the Bible. It’s disingenuous to say I never was a Christian. Nothing in my frail, imperfect life suggested that I was anything but a Christian.
I can’t keep Christians from combing through my life, looking for glosses, weaknesses, and contradictions. I know what I know, and that’s all that matters. I have published enough information about my life for anyone so inclined to come to a conclusion about my faith and subsequent atheism. People looking for secrets are sure to be disappointed. Well, except for my “secret” life as a pole dancer and stripper. Coming soon to a strip club near you! (Please see the ABOUT page.)
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.
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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.
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1989, Somerset Baptist Academy. A bit of levity. I’m wearing one of the teachers’ coats, earmuffs, armed with a squirt gun and stuffed animal. That fat face sure needs a beard. No wonder I lost my faith!
This is a post I started years ago and never finished until now.
Several years ago, friends of mine, Dave and Newauna, drove to Fort Wayne, Indiana to attend a concert at Sweetwater Sound, a combination music store/recording studio/private lesson venue/instrument repair shop/performance venue. The brother of a man whom I was close to as a young man is an executive with Sweetwater. His name is Troy. My friends and Troy talked for a bit, shooting the breeze as rural folks do. Eventually, the discussion turned towards Bruce Gerencser, the Evangelical-pastor-turned-atheist. My friends did not relay the entire conversation to me. They did let me know, however, that Troy was perplexed over my loss of faith, saying, “I can’t believe Bruce doesn’t believe in God.” I am sure my friends replied, “we can’t believe it, either!”
I can’t believe it.
Did you know?
How long has he been like this?
Shouldn’t we confront him?
Shouldn’t we pray for him?
I just don’t believe he is not a Christian anymore.
Such are the consternations of my former Christian friends and acquaintances. They are genuinely shocked and bothered by my defection from Christianity.
Surely, Bruce must have had a mental breakdown.
Maybe his medical problems have caused him to lose his mind.
Bruce read too many books. He needs to get back to just reading the inspired, inerrant, infallible Word of God. The Bible is the cure for what ails him!
Some think this is a temporary state for me. I’ll be back! (Said as only Arnold Schwarzenegger could say it.) It is hard for them to comprehend that Elvis really has left the building. Come November, it will be eleven years since I walked out of the back door of the Ney United Methodist Church, never to return. (Please see Dear Family, Friends, and Former Parishioners.)
I don’t like the fact that I cause others mental anguish. I genuinely want to be liked and respected by others. There is little, however, I can do, to alleviate their distress. People can and do walk away from Jesus — even pastors.
Sometimes, people are troubled over my defection because they must then consider the fact that “if Bruce can leave the faith anyone can.” I am well-grounded in the Bible and the teachings of the Christian church. If I can reject Jesus after knowing what I know, what is to be said for those not as well schooled as I in Christianity?
When it comes to Christianity, the less you know the better. Just believe. Don’t question anything. Just have faith. Don’t doubt.
Here’s what I want to say to the people who know me well. “Please don’t lose any sleep over my deconversion. I am at peace with where I am in life. I have no desire to wreck your faith in God, but, at the same time, I am not going to hide where I am in life. If you can live with my infidelity to God, we can be friends. If my faithlessness causes you pain and heartache, it is probably better for you to stay away from me.” (2019? All of my former friends have left me, save Dave and Newauna. Dave and I have been friends since third grade. He was right by my side when Polly was in the hospital. A true friend, indeed.)
When Christians friend me on Facebook, follow my Twitter feed, or read this blog, they need to understand that they are getting the unvarnished Bruce Gerencser. I am not pretending to be anyone other than who I am. Christian Bruce, Pastor Bruce, Preacher Bruce,Rev. Bruce, Conservative Bruce — all have died a slow, agonizing death.
In a sense, I have been reborn. Liberal Bruce. Agnostic Bruce. Atheist Bruce. Old, tired, worn-out Bruce. In my previous life, I thought I had reached the end of the journey. Jesus was the end-all, and I was waiting for the big payday in the sky. Now life is an unscripted journey. It remains to be seen where I’ll end up. And I am fine with that. I no longer have to have all the answers. Some days, I am just happy if I can find where I left the TV remote the night before.
Bruce, aren’t you afraid of Hell? No, I’m not. The only Hell that exists is on this earth — caused by the machinations of wicked men and women, and not devils, demons, or gods.
I see no evidence for a hands-on, personally involved, “He has a wonderful plan for your life” God. I refuse to embrace a deity who thinks a “wonderful” plan includes pain, suffering, loss, and death. I much prefer the “shit happens” approach to life; life that happens whether I am ready for it or not; life that is as much luck as it is planned.
I know I am a great disappointment to many people. I am indeed sorry for disappointing them. That said, I’m sure none of my former Christian friends or acquaintances wants me to embrace a lie. To say “I believe” just to soothe the consciences of those bothered by my loss of faith is something I can’t do.
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.
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Let me say from the start: I have, on occasion, lied. I am human, so it really would be a lie for me to say that I have never stretched the “truth,” told little white lies, whoppers, or an occasional big, fat black lie. (Why is it that black is the color always used for the really bad things in life?) I have lied on purpose, by accident, and told a few stories that were exaggerations I am sixty-two years old, and having lived on planet earth for 22,720 days, is it any surprise that I have told a lie or two or three hundred? Of course not. No one reaches the sunset years of life — including born-again Christians — without telling a few lies. That said, I rarely lie. In my day-to-day relationships with my wife, children, grandchildren, and my fellow homo sapiens, I do my best to be truthful and honest. I expect the same from others.
Over the years, I have developed skills that help me detect when someone is lying to me; when they are spinning a yarn; when they are regaling me with Grade-A bullshit. With family, I am pretty good at reading their body language. Polly, in particular, is not a very good liar. I can usually spot her untruths from a mile away. Me? I am not a very good liar, either. That’s why we rarely lie to each other. Oh, we might color the “facts” to present a certain narrative to each other, but generally, we are plainspoken.
Now that I have that out of the way, let me address the Evangelicals who think anything I say that doesn’t fit within their narrow, defined theological and cultural box must be a lie. When it comes to telling my story, I try to be a truthful, honest storyteller. Granted, I don’t tell readers e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. I have secrets; things I have never told anyone, including Polly and my counselor. No, I haven’t murdered anyone, molested children, robbed a bank, or had an affair, but I have done embarrassing things in my life that I am not comfortable sharing with others. That said, I do my best to be an open book; transparent and honest. Thus, it irritates the Hell out of me when Evangelicals question, doubt, and deconstruct everything I write. Instead of accepting what I say at face value, zealots are Heaven-bent on stripping my story bare and exposing me as some sort of charlatan or deceiver.
Several years ago, one Evangelical preacher told anyone who would listen that I had NEVER been a pastor; that he had talked to someone who lived in rural northwest Ohio during the time I was pastoring churches, and that person had never heard of me! In his mind, that meant I was a liar; that I had never been a pastor. I have had more than a few pastors attempt to discredit me, telling people that I was a liar. At first, such accusations bothered me, but not any longer. I have learned that two people can look at the same events and circumstances and come to different conclusions. My siblings and I have different views of our childhood. Sometimes, I wonder if we are even related! People can see things from different perspectives, and this colors their understanding. I am sure that can be said of the people I pastored over the years. Congregants who loved/liked me generally spoke well of me. Those who hated me or really, really, really disliked me tended to say negative things about me. I’m sure it’s hard to believe, but I know several former parishioners who would accelerate, hoping to run me over, if they saw me in a crosswalk. Such is life, right? I used to care incessantly about what people thought of me. Today? Not so much. If being a public writer has taught me anything, it has taught me that I can’t please everyone. Read my writing long enough, and you are sure to see something that will piss you off.
I have concluded that Evangelicals who call me a liar do so because it allows them to dismiss my story out of hand. What better way to not have to deal with the truth, than to attack the messenger and discredit him? There’s nothing I can do to stop people from attacking my character. That said, one fact remains: thousands of people read this blog, and that suggests to me, at least that many readers think my story is true and helpful. And that’s good enough for me.
Bruce Gerencser, 68, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 47 years. He and his wife have six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
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The Clergy Project, a non-profit organization started in 2011 to provide support, community, and hope to current and former religious professionals who no longer hold supernatural beliefs, will soon pass 1,000 members. While I was already out of the ministry (2005) and a vocal atheist (2008), I was one of The Clergy Project’s early members. Over the past eight years, I have recommended several liberal, mainline, and Evangelical clergy to the Project. Most of these contacts came through this blog. Today, I continue to correspond with a number of doubting/unbelieving pastors and church leaders. Several years ago, one Evangelical preacher told me that I was a liar; that “Bible-believing” pastors would NEVER leave Christianity. I said, “what about me?” “Well, Bruce,” he replied, “you never were a Christian, so you don’t count!” Whether ex-Christian pastors such as myself “count,” an increasing number of clergy are walking away from the pastorate and Christianity. Others, having lost their faith, are still active in the ministry. “What hypocrites,” I have been told. “If they no longer believe, the fakers should immediately resign.” Easier said than done when your family, career, and entire life are wrapped up in the tentacles of the church. I don’t know of a sect that has an exit program for clergy who no longer believe. In most churches, professed atheism or agnosticism — or even doubts and questions in some settings — is a one-way, same-day ticket out the back door of the church house. I know men and women who were ruined financially after being exposed as unbelievers. Many pastors live in church-provided housing. Imagine being told you have to immediately move out of the parsonage. Where do you go? Where will you find shelter for your family? How will you pay your rent and utilities? Often medical insurance and retirement income play a big part in unbelievers deciding to “fake it until they make it.” It’s no simple task to extricate oneself from that which has dominated your life for years. In my case, I was an Evangelical pastor for twenty-five years. While I didn’t have concerns over income, insurance, or retirement, (I was paid poverty wages, never had insurance, nor did I have a retirement program. I was trusting Jesus to care for me until the end; he proved to be a deadbeat caretaker.), I did wonder and worry about the future. My life was so wrapped up in the work of the ministry that I didn’t know what I was going to do post-Jesus. Scores of clergy find themselves in similar circumstances; no longer believers, yet still financially and materially connected to the church. It is for people such as this that The Clergy Project was created. If you are a current or former pastor who no longer believes, I encourage you to join The Clergy Project.
While I am no longer as active in the Project as I would like to be, I fully support their mission and work. These days, my focus is on Evangelicals who have doubts or questions about Christianity or people who have left the faith altogether. When I come in contact with pastors, evangelists, missionaries, worship leaders, deacons, youth pastors, or Christian college professors who no longer believe, I encourage them to check out The Clergy Project. Once they have gone through the approval process, unbelieving church workers have access to all sorts of help, including a private, secure forum. While I don’t participate in the forum as much as I would like, I have found it to be an excellent source for friendship and camaraderie.
The Project has a private Facebook group for its members, as well as a public page. You can find the personal stories of some of the Project’s members here. And finally, Linda LaScola, one of the founders of The Clergy Project, operates a blog titled Rational Doubt: With Voices from The Clergy Project. Rational Doubt features posts by Project members — including yours truly.
If you have any questions about The Clergy Project, please leave your question in the comment section or send me an email.
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.
Are you on Social Media? Follow Bruce on Facebook and Twitter.
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.
Valerie Tarico: Many people seem to walk away from their religion easily, without really looking back. What is different about the clientele you work with?
Marlene Winell: Religious groups that are highly controlling, teach fear about the world, and keep members sheltered and ill-equipped to function in society are harder to leave easily. The difficulty seems to be greater if the person was born and raised in the religion rather than joining as an adult convert. This is because they have no frame of reference – no other “self” or way of “being in the world.” A common personality type is a person who is deeply emotional and thoughtful and who tends to throw themselves wholeheartedly into their endeavors. “True believers” who then lose their faith feel more anger and depression and grief than those who simply went to church on Sunday.
Tarico: Aren’t these just people who would be depressed, anxious, or obsessive anyway?
Winell: Not at all. If my observation is correct, these are people who are intense and involved and caring. They hang on to the religion longer than those who simply “walk away” because they try to make it work even when they have doubts. Sometimes this is out of fear, but often it is out of devotion. These are people for whom ethics, integrity, and compassion matter a great deal. I find that when they get better and rebuild their lives, they are wonderfully creative and energetic about new things.
