Recently, an Evangelical man by the name of John sent me a short email that said:
Bruce, guess someone really hurt you to make you so bitter. I’m sorry that happened to you. I am confused as to why you blame a Good [sic] you don’t believe in for all your issues?
As to faith, i guess in 100 years we’ll both know who made the right life choices.
John is one person in a large breed of Evangelicals who have supernatural discernment skills, enabling them to psychoanalyze people they have never met. John stumbled upon this site, read a few posts, and then passed judgment on my life: “Bruce, [I] guess someone really hurt you to make you so bitter.” Long-time readers know I have repeatedly answered this false assertion. I am not bitter, though after being told by 6,666,666 Evangelicals that I am, I’m starting to feel bitter. Not really. The Johns of the world are little more than pesky gnats buzzing around my head on a hot, humid Ohio summer day. A quick swat or clap of the hands, and the offending gnat is no more.
Let me repeat once again for the Johns who might be lurking in the shadows: no one hurt me. (Please see I Wish Evangelical Christians Would Quit Treating Me Like an Abused Puppy.) I didn’t leave the ministry and Christianity because someone or a church hurt me in some way. Yes, there is an emotional component to my deconversion, but the ultimate reason for my loss of faith is that I no longer believed the central claims of Christianity. (Please see The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.) Anyone who bothers to read the posts on the WHY page knows this. Unfortunately, the Johns of Christendom can’t be bothered with doing their homework, nor can they be bothered with making a good-faith effort to understand my story. I am not asking John to accept the reasons I left Christianity. All I want him to do is accept my story at face value. Surely, that’s not too much to ask.
John says, “I’m sorry that happened to you.” Sorry, WHAT happened to me? Nothing happened to me. Unlike some of the people who frequent this blog, I wasn’t sexually molested by a pastor, evangelist, missionary, or priest. There’s no deep, dark secret in my life that “explains” my loss of faith. At the end of the day, the reasons for my divorce from Jesus stem from the Bible and its teachings. I weighed the teachings of Christianity in the balance and found them wanting.
John, as is common among Evangelical critics, thinks I blame the Christian God for all that has befallen me. I am an atheist, so it would be absurd for me to blame God, any God, for my past and present experiences. John likely misunderstands my writing, which is a common problem when people don’t take the time to understand the purpose of this blog. I will often write from the Evangelical perspective; from the perspective of Bruce Gerencser, Evangelical pastor. Thus, when I write about God not answering my prayer, I write from the viewpoint of a devoted follower of Jesus Christ. It is that man who dares to question God and his indifference towards him. Atheist Bruce doesn’t believe God answers prayer. How could he, since God doesn’t exist?
John says, “As to faith, I guess in 100 years we’ll both know who made the right life choices.” John is being disingenuous. He doesn’t question which of us is right; he knows he is. That’s why he wrote to me. He knows that his “faith” is that which the Bible says has been “once delivered to the saints.” I have yet to meet an Evangelical who wasn’t cock-sure that he was right; that his theology and interpretation of the Protestant Christian Bible perfectly align with truth as revealed by his God. Granted, I am certain that the claims of Christianity are false. Not because a deity or guru told me they are. No, I am convinced of this because I thoroughly and exhaustively studied both sides of the God question. I carefully examined Evangelical beliefs such as the inspiration, inerrancy, and infallibility of the Bible and the virgin birth and resurrection of Jesus from the dead, and concluded that such beliefs are false.
John is certain that eternal bliss awaits him, and eternal damnation awaits me. He’s certain that once I die, I will then know how wrong I was; that as the flames of Hell torment my God-created fireproof body, I will scream and shout, JOHN WAS RIGHT! Except John isn’t right, and unfortunately, when he dies, he won’t find out he was wrong. John will just be d-e-a-d, end of story. Neither of us is going to know how right or wrong he was because we will no longer walk among the living. It will be left to our family, friends, and acquaintances to render final judgment on our lives. John and I will go the way of all men — to the grave. In time, we will be but a distant memory in the minds of our loved ones, a footnote in human history, forgotten by those who promised they wouldn’t.
John says, “in 100 years.” I don’t know about John, but I don’t have 100 years left to live. Thanks to decades of chronic health problems and chronic pain, I doubt that I have a lot of years ahead of me. Most of my life is now in the rearview mirror, speeding by as I crawl to the finish line. I have no illusions about the future. The ugly specter of death is stalking me, and someday, sooner than later, I will meet my end. And when I do, I hope I leave behind the testimony of a well-lived 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.
According to Pew Research and other polls, the Catholic Church in the U.S. is losing six congregants for every person who joins. The Church is also hemorrhaging members in other countries, even in such former bastions of Catholicism as Ireland and Spain. Moreover, for every person who formally leaves the church, others simply drift away. While the Vatican doesn’t seem overly concerned, as membership has grown exponentially over recent decades in Sub-Saharan Africa and in other regions, Church leaders in the U.S. and Western Europe (which, a century ago, was home to two-thirds of the world’s Catholics) are deeply worried. Those leaders, clerical and lay alike, are trying all sorts of things to keep members, particularly the young, in the fold.
If generals are always fighting the last war, leaders of institutions are always trying to woo the young with equally outdated notions of what appeals to them. During my childhood and early adolescence, churches—including the one in which I was an altar boy—started to offer “folk masses.” They were, apparently, a piece of the Church’s attempt to “meet people where they are,” which included the shift from Latin to vernacular languages in the liturgy. I can’t help but wonder whether offering masses said in English that included songs by Peter Paul and Mary actually enticed any young people to stay in the flock, but I recall feeling condescended to with the choice of music. After all, most adults’ ideas about what kinds of music their kids like are off by at least five years, if not more. As an example, I think of the relative who gave me a Monkees album for my fourteenth birthday, in 1972. (OK, you can do the math. But I’m a lady and won’t tell you my age! 😉
At least that relative understood other, far more important, things about me. That is why, even after that misguided gift, I never felt patronized. That relative, in short, was sensitive and sensible.
The same cannot be said for a group of folks who are trying to bring the Catholic Church into the 21st Century. At least, that’s what they seem to think they are trying to do. Cathio consists of “a team of well-established experts and leaders with deep roots in the Catholic Church.” Founded last year, the “Catholic enterprise” has just launched a platform “designed to enable all sectors of the Catholic community to benefit from lower costs and transparent payments,” says Cathio CEO Matthew Marcolini. Cathio advisor Jim Nicholson, formerly an ambassador to the Holy See, explains that in addition to the benefits Marcolini mentions, the Cathio platform will also facilitate “the connectivity of people of good will with good works.”
In other words, this Cathio platform is a sort of Bitcoin for the Catholic Church, which supposedly will make it easier for people to give money and harder for the church to hide its financial dealings. Call me a cynic, but I have my doubts as to whether either of those goals will be accomplished. The Cathio platform will almost certainly make it easier to move large sums of money, but from whom and to whom?
At least Marcolini and Nicholson are, at worst, misinformed about the good intentions of the flock and its herders. Another Cathio board member, however, shows that he is, at best, delusional. Then again, he’s merely confirming some of us have known for a long time.
That Board member once ran for President of the United States and has served as a US Senator from a state in which all of its Roman Catholic dioceses are part of a class-action lawsuit from—who else?—priest sex-abuse survivors. Rick Santorum says that, in addition to making financial transactions more efficient, the Cathio platform also offers the Church the opportunity to better engage young people. “Millennials don’t carry cash, they date on apps and watch on-demand entertainment. We have to be there, we have to learn from successful tech companies, and we have to make it easier for younger generations to engage with the Church.”
Now, I don’t know he defines “young people” and “younger generations.” Does he think they are synonymous with “millennials, who are generally defined as those born between 1981 and 1999? Well, I admit, at my age, 38-year-olds seem young, but I still wouldn’t call them “young people” or part of “younger generations.” Also, while millennials might conduct their lives on their electronic devices, they are using them to do things people of their age have always done: date, make travel arrangements, buy concert tickets and the like. Technology doesn’t seem to bring them back to practices or institutions they might have left behind. And, if anything, the “younger generations”—at least those younger than the millennials—won’t be as enraptured by technologies as millennials because they will have grown up with them.
But where Santorum really misses the boat, so to speak, is in his perception of who isn’t going to church anymore and why. Perhaps earlier generations stopped attending masses or services because they’d rather sleep in or go mountain biking on Sunday morning, or simply because they found those masses or services boring or irrelevant. But today’s young, and even middle-aged and older people, are more likely to be fed up with the church. In part because so much information is available to them so readily on their devices, they are less likely to accept the authority of religious leaders or the validity (let alone inerrancy) of the Bible. Even more important, they are more likely to have friends, relatives or co-workers who are LGBTQ or of a different religion or cultural heritage from what they grew up with. And young men know women who are doing the same work as they are, and possibly doing it even better.
Oh, and they’ve heard all about the sex abuse scandals. Perhaps they were victims themselves and were fortunate enough to get help at a relatively young age and be spared a lifetime of shame, self-loathing, substance abuse and unfulfilled and unfulfilling relationships and jobs.
In brief, if the Church has any hope of re-engaging the “younger generations” Santorum and others want to woo, it has to get rid of the predatory priests and everyone who covered up for and enabled them, for starters. (Actually, it would help even more if those priests, deacons and others didn’t molest kids at all, but that might be asking for too much too soon.) Then, it has to finally start respecting women’s bodies and minds. That means, among other things, supporting birth control and contraception and not punishing women when they come forward as rape victims. Finally, for once and for all, it has to end any and all bigotry, whether against LGBTQ people or anyone else.
If the Church is willing and able to do those things, it just might stanch the outflow of young people. Best of all, for the Church, such actions don’t require technology and wouldn’t cost the church anything. But I don’t expect the church to adopt such ideas: Even if the American and European churches become relics like Stonehenge, the church still has the Global South—at least until its young get smartphones and make gay friends.
One of the charges Evangelical apologists love to level against atheists is that they don’t really know what the Bible says and teaches; that atheists are ignorant of that which they criticize. While it is certainly true that some atheists know very little about the Bible, the same can’t be said of ex-pastors such as myself, John Loftus, Dan Barker, David Madison, and the members of the Clergy Project. Nor can it be said of countless atheists who were formerly devoted followers of Jesus Christ; former Evangelicals who daily read and studied their Bibles and attended church every time the doors were open; former Evangelicals who devoured books on Christian theology and loved to talk about the teachings of the Bible. Such people know the Bible inside and out. Their paths from Evangelicalism to atheism are littered with well-worn, dog-eared Bibles. (Please see the From Evangelicalism to Atheism series.)
Many Evangelical apologists believe that only through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit can one truly understand the teachings of the Bible. Thus, a one-time Evangelical such as Dr. Bart Ehrman may have an academic understanding of the Bible, but he can’t really “know” the depths and intricacies of its teachings. This line of argument, of course, is an attempt to dismiss out of hand criticisms of the Bible by atheists and other non-Christians. Evidently, the moment I said I was no longer a Christian, everything I learned about the Bible during the fifty years I spent in the church and twenty-five years I spent in the ministry disappeared in some sort of supernatural Men in Black mind wipe. Thoughtful Evangelicals realize the absurdity of this argument and refrain from using it, but alas many Evangelical zealots aren’t “thoughtful.” In their minds, atheists are the enemies of God, reprobates, apostates, and haters of God, the Bible, and Christianity. No matter what we might have known in the past, now that we are followers of Satan, our minds and intellectual processes are ruined. No atheist can know as much about the Bible as a Spirit-filled Evangelical, or so they think anyway.
Does it really take the Holy Spirit to know and understand the teachings of the Bible? Of course not. And it is absurd to argue otherwise. The Bible is a book, no different from the Quran, Book of Mormon, or Huckleberry Finn. Any claims made for its supernatural nature require faith, a faith that is unnecessary to have when it comes to understanding the Bible. If a person can read, is he or she not able to understand what the Bible says? Don’t Evangelicals themselves admit this fact when Gideons hand out Bibles and non-Christians are encouraged to read the gospels? If the teachings of the Bible cannot be naturally understood without some sort of Holy Ghost magic, why challenge unbelievers to read the wrongly-called Good Book?
I suspect the real issue is that when atheists read the Bible, they are free from the constraints of doctrinal statements, systematic theologies, and hermeneutics. One of the best pieces of advice I ever heard about reading the Bible came from Dr. Ehrman, who suggested reading each book of the Bible as a stand-alone text. Let the author speak for himself. Of course, such readings of the Bible destroy attempts by Evangelical apologists to harmonize the Bible — to make all the disparate, contradictory parts “fit.” Go back and read the first three chapters of the book of Genesis without appealing to parlor tricks used to make the text mesh with what Trinitarian Evangelicals believe about God and creation. A fair-minded reader might conclude that there are multiple gods. An excellent book on this subject is The Evolution of God by Robert Wright.
Over the course of the twenty-five years I spent in the ministry, I read the Bible from cover to cover numerous times. I spent thousands of hours reading and studying the Bible, and thousands of more hours reading theological tomes. Even today, a decade removed from the last time I darkened the doors of a Christian church, I still have a mind brimming with Bible verses and things I learned as an Evangelical pastor. One of the ironies of the health problems I have, with its attendant memory problems, is that I tend to have problems with short-term memory, not long-term. Thus, I can’t remember that recent Christopher Hitchens quote I read, but I can remember a quote by Charles Spurgeon or John MacArthur from decades ago. Believe me, there are days when I wish I could flush my mind of all the religious nonsense that clutters up its space. So much wasted mental real estate . . .
The reasons I divorced Jesus are many. I have spent countless hours writing about why I am no longer a Christian. That said, the primary reason I am an atheist today is the Bible. As I began to have questions and doubts about the central claims of Christianity, I decided to re-read and study the Bible, determining what it was I really believed. I found that many of my beliefs were false or grounded in narrowly defined theological frameworks that could not be sustained intellectually. Once I let the Bible speak for itself, my Evangelical house came tumbling to the ground. I tried, for a time, to find a resting spot that allowed me to hang on to some sort of Christian faith. Alas, I did not find these things satisfying intellectually. Eventually, my slide down the slippery slope landed me where I am today — a committed agnostic and atheist.
At the very least, Evangelical apologists should grudgingly admit that many Evangelicals-turned-atheists know the Bible as well they do. Now if we could get apologists to know and understand atheism/agnosticism/humanism as well as many ex-Evangelicals know the Bible, that would be great. People such as myself have a distinct advantage over many Evangelical apologists. We have lived on both sides of the street. We have read atheist authors and Christian ones. That’s why, when an Evangelical wants to argue with me about the inerrancy and infallibility of the Bible, I ask them, have you read any of Bart Ehrman’s books? If they haven’t, I don’t waste my time with them. Their problem is one of ignorance, and until they are willing to do their homework, there’s really no hope for them.
I will forever, until dementia or death robs me of my mind, remain a student and reader of the Bible. My reasons for doing so are different today from what they were when I was pastoring churches, but my goal remains the same: to help people see and understand the truth.
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.
The telling of my deconversion story brings all sorts of responses from Evangelical Christians. Some of my critics comb through my life with a head-lice comb, hoping to find something that invalidates my past life as a pastor. If they can find doctrinal error or heresy, this allows them to declare that I was a false prophet, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, someone who never was a True Christian®. These interlocutors bring me before the tribunal of their peculiar beliefs, asking questions meant to suss out my true spiritual nature. If they can determine that I was never saved, it allows them to dismiss my life out of hand. People wanting to discredit me in this manner almost always find sufficient evidence to warrant them saying, Bruce Gerencser was never a Christian. (Please see Gone but Not Forgotten: 22 Years Later San Antonio Calvinists Still Preaching Against Bruce Gerencser.)
Other Evangelical Christians, unable to square my past devotion to Jesus with their once-saved-always-saved soteriology, critically examine my life inside and out, looking for signs of trauma. I often get emails from Evangelicals apologizing for whatever psychological harm was caused to me by churches and other Christians. They wrongly think that I am not a Christian today because of some hurt in my past; that I left the ministry and Christianity because of hurtful things done to me by mean-spirited Christians. These “loving” critics — armchair psychologists — view me as they would an abused puppy. I pee all over the carpets of my life because someone or a group of someones repeatedly beat me with a rolled-up Columbus Dispatch. My deconversion is the result, then, of the harm caused to me by these unloving, unkind Christians; and that what I really need is to find a church congregation that will scoop up my broken spirit and sweetly love me back to Jesus. Ack! Gag me with a spoon!
Early on, I framed my loss of faith in purely intellectual terms. I knew that admitting that there was an emotional component to my deconversion would give people cause to say that the only reason I wasn’t a Christian is that I got my feelings hurt. I wanted people to see me as an intellectual who weighed the claims of Christianity and found them wanting. And of course, that’s exactly what I did. The primary reason I am an atheist today is because I came to believe that Christianity was false; that God, Jesus, and the Bible were not what Christian preachers and apologists claimed they were. (The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense.) Once the Bible lost its authority and hold over me, I was free to rationally and skeptically examine, analyze, and judge its teachings. I owe much to Dr. Bart Ehrman for showing me that what I had been taught about the Bible and what I had preached for decades was a lie. Once the Bible was rendered human and errant, the slide down the slippery slope of unbelief was quick, leading to a sixty-six-car pile-up at the bottom of the hill. Try as I might to find solace in Christian liberalism or Christian Universalism, I found these way stations intellectually lacking. In the end, agnosticism and atheism were the only labels that honestly and adequately explained my beliefs or lack thereof.
Today, I can look back over the past two decades and I can see that there was certainly emotional harm caused to me by fellow Christians, colleagues in the ministry, and Evangelical family members. The twenty-five years I spent in the ministry brought me in contact with numerous Jesus-loving abusers and sociopaths. By the time I left the ministry in 2005 — three years before I divorced Jesus — I was burned out. I was tired of having to deal with hateful, mean-spirited, self-centered church members. I was more than tired of church business meetings and board meetings that were little more than bloody, violent boxing matches sandwiched between invocations and benedictions. By the time I reached the end of my career, all I wanted to do was show up on Sundays and preach and then go home. The ministry had extracted a tremendous amount of emotional capital from me, a debt that has taken almost a decade of secular counseling to recover from. That said, I am not an oft-beaten puppy cowering in the corner of life. I embrace and own the past damage caused by Christianity, and I, with weeping and lamentations, bemoan the psychological harm I caused to my family and church congregants.
Today, I now know that the reasons I am not a Christian are legion. To focus on the psychological aspects of my loss of faith alone paints an incomplete picture. For those determined to view me as an abused puppy, all I can do is try to explain through my writing how and why I left my marriage to Jesus and became an atheist. It’s my story after all. Who better to tell it than I, right?
Are you an Evangelical-turned-atheist? Do you have former Christian friends and family members who attempt to psychoanalyze your deconversion? Please share your experiences in the comment section.
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.
Recently, a Fundamentalist man by the name of Ben left a comment on a post about the Independent Fundamentalist Baptist (IFB) church movement: An Independent Baptist Hate List. Ben violated the comment rules by using a fake email address — ben@iloveyoubrusegerencser.com — so I didn’t approve his comment. I did decide, however, to use his comment as fodder for this post.
Let me say, before I get to Ben’s comment — that I don’t believe for one moment that he “loves” me. “I love you” is a tired, worthless trope uttered by Christians to give the appearance to unbelievers that they really care about them. Ben neither loves or care for me, and the reason is quite simple: He doesn’t know me. Ben read ONE post. He couldn’t be bothered to read the ABOUT page or the WHY page or any other 3,000+ posts on this site. If he really loved me, he would have taken the time to read my writing and then make a fair, charitable, honest assessment of my life. Instead, Ben did what Fundamentalists typically do: he answered a matter before hearing it (Proverbs 18:13). The Bible calls such a man foolish and shameful.
Now, let me address Ben’s comment. My response is emboldened and italicized.
This post really resonated with me, Bruce.
My wife and I left an Independent Baptist church a few months ago. Several of your points stand out to me. We were expected to attend every service, and the pastor’s favorite phrase was “it takes three to thrive.” If you wanted to teach a class, you had to meet a list of requirements, including that you don’t smoke tobacco and that your hair can’t cover your ears or collar.
We were asked to serve in ways that resembled a part-time or full-time job, which quickly began to take a toll on our quality of life. The pastor seemed to take pride in making the congregation members feel as if they can never serve God enough.
The preaching lacked any real substance, and every sermon turned into “you need to serve more and you need to be in church every service.” Oh, and they expected you to not only tithe religiously, but to also give above your tithe to support missions, guest speakers, and every foolish project they could conjure up.
It was one of the most traumatizing and exhausting experiences that my wife and I have ever endured in a so-called “church.” The last thing that I wanted to do after attending this church was to pray, read the Bible, or even think about God. And while not all Independent Baptist churches are as bad as that one was, I’m sure that there are also some that are far worse. I can never see myself joining an Independent Baptist church again, and I truly feel for anyone who has had to experience such things (or worse).
I am sorry Ben had to experience what he did at the church he and his wife attended. What Ben fails to understand is that his experience is not rare. In fact, it is quite common among IFB and other Evangelical churches. I make no apologies for believing that IFB churches in particular and Evangelical churches in general are cultic and psychologically harmful. Mainline/liberal/progressive Christian churches, along with a plethora of non-Christian groups, offer kinder, gentler, human-affirming experiences. While I personally have no desire or need for religion, I know many people do. My advice, then, is for them to flee Evangelicalism and find expressions of faith that are affirming; expressions of faith which embrace science and history; expressions of faith that see the Bible for what it is: an ancient religious text written by fallible men.
Having said that, I still consider myself a Bible-believing Christian. Why? Years ago I became a secular humanist/atheist after attending a secular college that completely challenged my entire worldview. I rejected the Bible and began believing (and promoting) the secular humanist worldview, including evolution. I loved to read Nietzsche, Darwin, Dawkins, and Harris.
Based on what Ben says here, he was a Christian before he went off to college. Once there, Ben lost his faith and became an atheist and a secular humanist. After a couple of years, Ben realized the error of his way and returned to Christianity. Did I miss anything?
I don’t like to ever question someone’s personal story and experiences, but when someone goes from Christian to atheism to Evangelicalism, I truly wonder if they grasped what it meant to be an atheist; what it meant to be a humanist. I don’t want to be accused of using the No True Scotsman argument, so I won’t flat out say Ben was never an atheist, but I do have my doubts. Rare is the educated atheist who leaves godlessness for Evangelical Christianity. Universalism? Perhaps. Deism? Perhaps. But Evangelicalism? Not likely.
This persisted for a couple of years until I finally began to realize that those positions required just as much (if not more) faith than religion did. I found myself correcting other atheists who would use bad arguments against religion or the Bible, which I had investigated myself and found to be untrue. Furthermore, there were so many things that science couldn’t explain about evolution, abiogenesis, and so forth.
Certainly, there are atheists who use bad arguments or don’t know much about Christianity and the Protestant Bible. However, I am not such a person, and neither are many of the atheist/humanist/non-Christian readers who frequent this site. Many of us spent years reading and studying the Bible. We read countless theological books and Christian biographies. Our faith was well informed, unlike Ben’s faith that was easily destroyed by attending a secular college. Had Ben read the ABOUT page he would have learned that I was in the Christian church for fifty years; that I was an Evangelical pastor for twenty-five of those years. I am not ignorant of what Evangelicals believe and practice, and even now, ten-plus years removed from my divorce from Jesus, I continue to immerse myself in the Evangelical sewer; not because I want to, but I must if I intend to remain an informed writer.
Yes, science doesn’t have ALL the answers. And the Bible does? A 2,000- 4,000- year-old religious text carries more authority than modern science? To quote the great philosopher Chad Ochocinco, Child Please. Science has not yet explained everything, and will likely never do so. However, from the Big Bang forward, we have a good idea about how the universe came into existence; how our planet came into existence; and how homo sapiens and kittens came to populate the earth. When left to choose between creationism and science, the choice is simple: science wins hands down. Creationism either demands we believe the universe is 6,024 years old or that there were millions and millions of years between the six days of creation. Both unscientific religious beliefs are absurd — as science clearly reveals.
The same goes for the so-called history recorded in the Bible. Certainly, there are historical events/places/people found within the pages of Holy Writ. However, most of the major Old Testament stories, from Noah’s Flood to Abraham to Moses and the Wandering Jews, have no historical foundation. The same could be said for the miracles recorded in the New Testament.
To believe everything found in the Bible is accurate, true, and without error is a faith claim, not one based on historical and scientific evidence. Evangelicals are free to believe what they want, but the moment they say that their Biblical beliefs are supported by science and history, I am going to say: SHOW ME. And not with apologetics books, creation “science” textbooks, or books written not to advance truth, but to protect Evangelical faith. What do most experts say on a matter; men and women who are seekers of truth rather than promoters of dogma?
If you are 100% honest with yourself, you’ll realize that any particular group has their own little “hate” list.
Ah yes, if I was “honest” with myself . . . What in my writing suggests that I am anything but open, transparent, and honest? I often find myself at odds with my fellow unbelievers, and have shared my disagreements on more than a few occasions. Sure, some atheists are shit-throwing idiots who revel in trashing Christianity and people of faith. I have seen more than a few atheists on social media act in ways that I find personally embarrassing. When such atheists show up on this site, I cut them off. I want the Life and Times of Bruce Gerencser to be a place where people with doubts about their faith or who have left Christianity can find encouragement, help, and support. I have banned a number of atheists over the years for bad behavior. That said, their numbers pale in comparison to feces-throwing Evangelicals. In fact, most of the Evangelicals who comment on this site are rude, inconsiderate, and argumentative. That’s why I only give such commenters one opportunity to say whatever it is they think a dead man named Jesus has laid upon their “hearts.” Once they have vented their spleens, I cut them off. I have done this for years now, and it has made the comment section much more enjoyable to read.
Here’s one that would suit most atheists/secular humanists/liberals:
1. The Bible
2. Fox News
3. Alex Jones/Rush Limbaugh/Hannity
4. Answers in Genesis.org
5. Donald Trump
6. Trump supporters
7. Breitbart
8. Gospel tracts
9. Religious documents or statues on government property
10. Creationists
11. Fundamentalists
12. TBN
13. Monotheistic religions
14. and so on….
Ben believes that atheists/secular humanists/liberals have hate lists too, much like IFB churches and pastors. Again, I wonder about his exposure to atheism/humanism. If he had taken to reading books/blogs written by atheists/agnostics/humanists, he would have found that we are not, generally, a hateful group. One only needs to read the Humanist Manifesto to learn than humanists are known by what they are for, not what they are against. IFB churches and pastors, on the other hand — along with many Evangelicals, Mormons, and conservative Catholics — are known for what they hate. God hates, so they hate. The aforementioned post, An Independent Baptist Hate List, is a catalog of things, beliefs, practices, and behaviors Fundamentalist Baptists hate with a passion.
I know Ben won’t “hear” what I say next, but the fact of the matter is this: I don’t hate people, nor do I hate inanimate objects. My focus is on harmful beliefs and practices, thus it can be said that I do hate certain IFB/Evangelical notions and praxes. Some beliefs don’t matter, but others cause great psychological and cultural harm. Scores of Americans have sought out counseling thanks to the damage done to them by religion — especially Fundamentalist Christianity. Children are physically abused because their parents believe they have been commanded by God to beat them into submission. Patriarchalism and complementarianism both find their roots in Fundamentalist Christianity. A careful look at climate change denialists reveals a common denominator: Christian Fundamentalism. The same could be said for those who believe the earth is flat. And the same could also be said about those who are white supremacists. Dig deep, and what is often found is religious Fundamentalism (and the same could be said about Muslim extremism).
Ben lists thirteen things he thinks I hate. He is wrong on all thirteen counts. Even Donald Trump, as much as I despise him as a man and revile his politics, I don’t hate him. That doesn’t mean I have never hated anyone, I have. But hate can consume people. One need only see the hatred many Evangelicals have for LGBTQ people, immigrants, and liberals to see what hate does to people. No thanks. I choose, instead, to turn my hatred into action. Yes, I want to chop at the root of Evangelical Christianity until the tree topples over, but it’s the beliefs I despise and hate, not the people.
I live in an area dominated by conservative Christianity and Republican politics. Even many of my fellow Democrats skew way too far to the right for my liking. I don’t hate my family, friends, and neighbors. Who wants to spend their life wallowing in a pit of anger and hatred? Not me. So, I do what I can to change hearts and minds. I try my best to be a good example of an atheist and a humanist. I am sure I fail more often than not, but with great resolve I pick myself up and try to do better.
As I investigated criticisms of the Bible and Christianity, I realized that there was a logical, reasonable explanation for any alleged problem. Lo and behold, I came full circle, abandoned my secular humanist position, and became a serious, born-again Christian.
This statement makes it clear, at least to me, that Ben truly hasn’t done his homework. No one can honestly study the nature of the Biblical text and conclude that it is inerrant. Saying the Bible is inspired, inerrant, and infallible requires faith. How can Ben KNOW that the Bible is what Evangelicals claim it is? The extant evidence is clear: the Bible is NOT what Evangelicals say it is. And anyone who had studied the matter knows this. Sure, it is “possible” to explain away the contradictions, but for most rational, skeptical people, these explanations seem hollow.
Ben believes the Bible is true because his chosen religion demands he do so. Thus, against reason and facts, Ben offers faith. And that’s fine. Want to believe the Bible is written by men as they were moved by the Holy Ghost and is without error, that’s fine. But, admit that this belief rests on faith, not facts.
If Ben happens to visit this site again, I hope he will hear me when I say that he needs to spend some serious time reading the works of Dr. Bart Ehrman. Doing so will cure Ben of what ails him. I have listed the books I recommend at the end of this post.
Although my experience at the “fundy” church was horrible, I know that it was the pastor’s issue, and it hasn’t dazed my view of God. I’m able to separate the infallible nature of men and churches from the truth revealed in Christ.
I’m not going to try to convince you to become a Christian, but I do want to say this: I feel your pain with the absurdity that takes place in some churches, and I’m sorry for any trauma you experienced. I also see that you suffer from a lot of physical pain, and I sincerely hope your medical issues improve.
Ben waits until the end of his comment to subtly suggest that I deconverted because of some sort of negative experience or trauma. (Please see Simple Contact Form for Evangelicals) While I have long admitted that there is an emotional component to my loss of faith, the primary reasons I am no longer a Christians are intellectual in nature. I made this clear in the post titled, The Michael Mock Rule: It Just Doesn’t Make Sense. The bottom line is this: Christianity doesn’t make sense to me. The reasons it doesn’t can be found in the posts listed on the WHY page.
Anyone who suggests as Ben does that my loss of faith rests on anything other than an intellectual foundation is deliberately choosing to ignore what I have to say; they are deliberately reading an alternative storyline into my story. As long-time readers know, do this and I will surely get pissed off. I expect people, atheists and Christians alike, to accept my story at face value. It’s my life, my story, so who knows it better than me?
I just hope that you keep an open mind and that you can see that atheism/secular humanism suffers from the same inherent problems that many churches /worldviews do. And who knows, maybe one day you can re-evaluate your position on God and separate the wheat from the chaff.
Ben offers me no evidence that challenges my atheistic/humanistic beliefs, so there is nothing I need to ponder or consider. I am not sure what Ben hoped to gain by leaving this comment? Countless Evangelical zealots have commented on the blog, emailed me, or left comments on social media over the past twelve years. Many more have prayed to the ceiling God on my behalf. And a few Evangelicals have even asked God to kill me. Yet, here I am, still unrepentant; still an apostate; still a heretic; still a God-hater. The omniscient, omnipresent Christian God supposedly knows exactly where I am, yet he does nothing. Why is that? Maybe he is on vacation, on the toilet, or sleeping (I Kings 18). Or maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t exist. My money is on the latter. When new evidence arises, I’ll be sure to consider it. Until then, I remain an atheist. All praise be to Loki!
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.
Over the past twelve years, I have corresponded with numerous Evangelicals who find themselves in “mixed” marriages after their loss of faith. Having entered marriage according to the Biblical principle found in 2 Corinthians 6:14-18:
Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness? And what concord hath Christ with Belial? or what part hath he that believeth with an infidel? And what agreement hath the temple of God with idols? for ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you. And will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty.
these unbelievers find themselves at odds with still-believing spouses. “What will become of their marriages?” these former Evangelicals ask. Having grown up in a religion that condemns mixed marriages AND divorce, they fear the consequences of losing their faith. Many of the Evangelicals who contact me suffer in secret, keeping their deconversions to themselves out of fear of hurting their spouses, children, parents, and close friends. I know a number of atheists/agnostics who attend Evangelical churches every Sunday because they fear what might happen if they dared to testify publicly that there is no God.
If I had to do it all over again would I do it the same way? Would I write THE letter? Probably. My experiences have given me knowledge that is helpful to people who contact me about their own doubts about Christianity. I am often asked, what should I do? Should I tell my spouse? Should I tell my family, friends, or coworkers?
My standard advice is this: Count the cost. Weigh carefully the consequences. Once you utter or write the words I AM AN ATHEIST you are no longer in control of what happens next. Are you willing to lose your friends, destroy your marriage, or lose your job? Only you can decide what cost you are willing to pay.
I know there is this notion “Dammit I should be able to freely declare what I am” and I agree with the sentiment. We should be able to freely be who and what we are. If we lived on a deserted island, I suppose we could do so. However, we are surrounded by people. People we love. People we want and need in our life. Because of this, it behooves (shout out to the KJV) us to tread carefully.
This advice holds true today. Saying to believing spouses, children, and friends, I AM AN ATHEIST, can and will bring immediate negative responses. I always caution people to carefully and thoroughly weigh the costs and consequences of coming out of the proverbial closet. The Bible in Luke 14:28-30 gives some pretty good advice when it says:
For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock him, Saying, This man began to build, and was not able to finish.
Many unbelievers conclude that it is better for them to be closeted atheists than risk blowing up their marriages. But even then, these atheists/agnostics run the risk of being exposed; they run the risk of their spouses finding out the truth about who and what they really are. One man I know attended an IFB church with his wife and children every Sunday. To his spouse, family, pastor, and fellow church members, he was still a Jesus-loving, sin-hating, Bible-believing Christian. Outwardly, he was a good example of someone who loved Jesus. (Despite what Evangelicals say, it is possible and easy to fake being a Christian.) His deception could have gone on forever had his wife not found his secret stash of books by authors such as Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens. Needless to say, the shit hit the fan. This man remains married, but it is doubtful his marriage will survive once his children graduate from high school. The chasm between him and his wife is so large that it is unlikely they can find a way to bridge the two sides.
I know several couples who have been in mixed marriages for decades. They found ways to make their marriages work, choosing to compartmentalize their lives for the sake of their significant others. Several years ago, I ran into the spouse of one these couples at Walmart. I had been her pastor for a number of years, and her atheist husband — a delightful man — would attend church with her from time to time. I asked her about her marriage, “if you had it to do all over again, would you have married Bob?” She quickly said, “NO!” I asked her, “Why?” She replied, “My faith is very important to me and there’s a whole side of my life I can never share with Bob.” Viewing their marriage from afar, I see a couple who stills love one another, but I also see a relationship where each of them has a life separate from the other.
I also have corresponded with atheists/agnostics in mixed marriages who quickly found out that their spouses loved God/Jesus/Church more than they loved them. One close family member went through a divorce several years ago. At the time of their wedding, he was a faithful, Jesus-loving Evangelical. His wife, on the other hand, was a nominal Christian. Over time, he moved away from his Evangelical roots, eventually embracing unbelief — at least when it comes to organized religion. His wife, however, ran headlong into the arms of what is best described as emotional, touchy-feely, syrupy, gag–me-with-a-spoon Evangelicalism. While he would admit that the reasons for their divorce are many, one man, Jesus, played a central part in their breakup. Given a choice, his wife chose Jesus over him.
Evangelical apologists have all sorts of explanations for why people deconvert. Few of their reasons, however, match what really goes on when a devoted follower of Jesus begins the process of deconversion. Most atheists/agnostics will tell you that their losses of faith were long, arduous, painful processes. I know mine was. The moment I wrote my coming-out letter, Dear Family, Friends and Former Parishioners, my entire life came tumbling down. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I knew walking away from Christianity was the right thing to do, but I grossly underestimated the carnage that would lie in its wake. I had followed the evidence wherever it led, and despite attempts to stop my downward slide on the proverbial slippery slope, I had concluded that the central tenets of Christianity were untrue. My unbelief forced me to rethink and rebuild my life from the ground up. What did I really believe? What were my moral and ethical values? What kind of husband and father did I want to be? The questions were many, some of which linger to this day. So, to Evangelicals who believe former Christians, without suffering, pain, and agony , just woke up one morning and said, “I am an atheist,” I say this: “you don’t know what the fuck you are talking about.”
This rebuilding process, of course, does not take place in a vacuüm. People who are married when they deconvert wrestle with questions about the future. They ponder what kind of marriages they will have if their spouses are still Christians. They wonder how being in a mixed marriage will affect their children. No longer believing that there is life after death can and does alter how one views the world. If a former Christian’s marriage was already troubled before his deconversion — yet he stayed married because of what the Bible teaches about divorce — he often questions whether he wants to remain married to his Evangelical spouse. Since there is only one life to live and then you are d-e-a-d, it’s fair and honest to ask yourself as an unbeliever: “If my Evangelical wife remains a devoted follower of Jesus, do I really want to spend the rest of my life married to her?” Many times, the answer is no and divorce soon follows.
I know a handful of Evangelicals-turned-atheists who took a wait-and-see approach to their spouses and marriages. These former Christians believed their spouses were, at the very least, open to discussing the reasons for why they deconverted. Taking a low-key approach allowed them to have non-threatening, honest discussions about God, Christianity, and the Bible. More often than not, these discussions bore fruit, leading to their spouses’ later deconversion. Sometimes, it took years of discussions (and book recommendations) before their spouses came to see the light, so to speak. These former Evangelicals believed that their marriages were worth saving if at all possible. This is more likely the case for couples who have been married a long time. It is a lot easier to walk away from a marriage of two or five years than it is to walk away from a marriage of twenty or thirty years.
People often look my forty-year marriage to Polly and think that we are some sort of shining example of what is possible post-Jesus. I warn them, however, that our journey from Evangelicalism to unbelief is ours alone; that far too often believing spouses remain so despite the deconversion of their husband or wife. Quite frankly, Polly and I were lucky. Just the other day we were talking about what might have happened had either of us stayed true to Jesus. We both concluded that our marriage might not have survived such upheaval and disunity had one of us still believed. Fortunately, as has been the case for most of our marriage, we walked hand in hand as our former lives as followers of Jesus went up in smoke. While there was a time when I was the out-and-proud atheist and Polly was the secret agnostic, we are closer now when it comes to the extent of our unbelief. Our personalities are different, so it stands to reason that how we live out our godlessness in public and around family is dissimilar too.
Are you in a mixed marriage? Did you go through a divorce after you deconverted? Are you a closeted atheist who still attends church with their spouse/family? Please share your experiences in the comment section.
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 61, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 40 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.
Bruce is a local photography business owner, operating Defiance County Photo out of his home. If you live in Northwest Ohio and would like to hire Bruce, please email him.
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 grew up in the Evangelical church. Saved at age 15 and called to preach a few weeks later, every aspect of my life was dominated by the teachings of God’s inspired, inerrant, infallible Word — the Bible. In the fall of 1976, at the age of 19, I packed up my worldly belongings and drove north to enroll in classes at Midwestern Baptist College in Pontiac, Michigan. I soon meet a beautiful dark-haired girl who would become my wife. This coming July we will celebrate forty-one years of wedded bliss.
In the spring of 1979, we packed up our meager household goods and moved to Bryan, Ohio — the city of my birth. Thus began my ministerial career, a career that would take me to seven churches in three states. In 2005, I left the ministry, and three years later I filed for divorced from Jesus. Our divorce was final in November 2008. Since that time, I have not darkened the doors of a Christian church, save for funerals and weddings.
I was fifty years old when I walked away from Christianity. Few men with as much time invested in their ministerial careers as I had walk away from the church/Jesus. I know several pastors who no longer believe in the Christian God, yet are still actively serving churches. They have too much invested in their careers to quit now. They hope to quietly make it to retirement age without anyone discovering their unbelief. In my case, I was never good at playing the game, so when I reached the place where I no longer believed the central tenets of Christianity, I walked away. (Please see Dear Family, Friends, and Former Parishioners.)
Choosing to walk away from Christianity cost me greatly. I lost most of my friends, and all of my colleagues in the ministry. I was brutally savaged by men I once considered friends. I received nasty emails from former congregants, and several pastors took to their pulpits to preach against Bruce, the Evangelical pastor-turned-atheist. (Please see Jose Maldonado Says I Never Was a Christian and Gone but Not Forgotten: 22 Years Later San Antonio Calvinists Still Preaching Against Bruce Gerencser.) Everything I accomplished in the ministry was called into question. A man whom I considered my closest friend accused me of destroying my family. One colleague even came to my home, hoping that he could get me to reconsider my loss of faith. (Please see Dear Friend.)
I had always known that Evangelicals tended to shoot their wounded and eat their own, so it should have come as no surprise to me when I was brutally attacked, labeled an apostate, and branded a Bible-denying hater of God. The wounds of those who once called me friend caused great pain and heartache. I have not, a decade later, recovered from the loss of these friendships. I know, of course, that fidelity to certain beliefs was the glue that held our relationships together, but I am still, to this day, surprised at how quickly my friends turned against me. While I have certainly made a few new friends, none of these relationships measures up to the ones I once had with fellow pastors. I currently live in the land of God, Guns, and Republicans. Atheists, agnostics, and humanists are far and few between, and many of them, out of economic and social necessity, hide in the shadows of their communities. Most of my friends are of the digital kind. I am grateful for having such friends, but I yearn for the kind of friendships I had as a pastor.
Imagine rebooting your life at age 50. Not an easy task, to be sure. Leaving Christianity forced me to rethink every aspect of my life; from my relationship with Polly and our children to my moral and ethical standards. This, of course, wasn’t easy. I had been religiously indoctrinated for most of my adult life. You don’t just flip a switch and think differently after deconverting. It is a long, arduous process, one filled with emotional pain and contradiction. It’s nigh impossible to completely wash from your mind decades and decades of Evangelical indoctrination. Even today, I still have moments when I have what I call “Evangelical hangovers”; moments when my thoughts do not align with my humanistic beliefs. The journey is never complete or without challenge.
While it would be easy for me to focus totally on my losses post-Jesus, that would paint an inaccurate portrait of my life. Yes, I wish I had more friends, but I am willing to go it alone, if necessary, to maintain intellectual integrity. You see, Christianity demanded that I bow and worship its God; that I follow its holy book; that I obey its teachings and standards. Once I was freed from the authoritarian rule of the Bible, I was free to chart my own course. And this is the one thing atheism gave to me: FREEDOM. I no longer fear God’s judgment or Hell. I am free to follow my path wherever it leads. For Evangelicals, life is all about the destination, whereas for atheists, life is all about the journey. Evangelicals focus on eternity, viewing this present life as preparation for life to come. Atheists, however, believe this life is the only one we will ever have. There’s no afterlife, no second chances; this is it! (Please see the series From Evangelicalism to Atheism.)
For Evangelicals, life is scripted by God. The Bible is a roadmap of sorts, a blueprint for how people are to live. As a humanist, I see a wild, woolly world before me. Who knows where I’ll end up! Who knows what tomorrow might bring. Each morning, I get up and do what I can to make the most of the day. No worries about parsing my life through the strictures of the Bible. No worries about God judging or chastising me. Thanks to Loki, I am free!
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 61, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 40 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.
Bruce is a local photography business owner, operating Defiance County Photo out of his home. If you live in Northwest Ohio and would like to hire Bruce, please email him.
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.
Warning! Snark and cursing ahead. You have been warned.
Yesterday, an Evangelical woman by the name of Margo left several comments on Facebook detailing why I never was a Christian. I responded to her several times, but to no avail. I tried to get her to read the posts on the WHY? page and read several of Dr. Bart Ehrman’s books, but she would have none of that either. Her mind was made up: Bruce Gerencser, the one-time Evangelical-preacher-turned-atheist is not now nor ever has been a Christian. At this point, I told her to fuck off. If someone can’t at least give me a hearing or make any attempt to understand my story, I have no time for them.
What follows are two of Margo’s comments/messages. My response is indented. All spelling and grammar in the original. Enjoy!
Comment One
One who professes Faith in Jesus Christ.. becomes a preacher of the Living Word of God… only to become an atheist and secular-humanist. //// Heres what I believe—- one who does this was never saved.
I have written many times about the absurdity of the “you were never saved” argument. First, it flies in the face of all objective evidence from the twenty-five years I spent in the ministry. Everything about my life said that I was a devoted follower of Jesus Christ. My doctrine was orthodox as was my practice. I devoted virtually every waking hour to Jesus, studying the Bible and praying every day. I genuinely cared about my congregation. I made sure their spiritual and material needs were met. I evangelized the lost and attempted to restore backsliders. Ask anyone who knew me at the time, and they will without hesitation testify that I was a Christian. Nothing in my conduct and habits said to those who knew me best — family, congregants, colleagues — that I was anything but a man who took his faith seriously. To suggest, then, that I was never a Christian is absurd.
Think for a moment about the level of deception that I would have had to use to convince thousands of people I was a Christian. The same can be said for my relationships with colleagues in the ministry. These men heard me preach, prayed with and for me, broke bread with me, and knew my secrets, yet not one of them ever had doubts about my faith.
“Why does this matter to you?” you might ask. “You don’t believe in God, so who cares, right?” Sure, but the issue here is her attempt to invalidate my story. Each of us has a right to his or her own story. I refuse to let Evangelical zealots control my storyline. I refuse to let them use their peculiar theology to define who/what I am and who/what I was in the past.
Why? Because truly born-again believing Christians.. no matter what, remain so.
This is a classic example of allowing theology to trump personal observation and knowledge; of faith trumping reason. And I get it. When you believe the Bible is God’s inspired, inerrant, infallible Word, it colors your thinking and how you view others. In Margo’s mind, I can’t be a born-again Christian because I no longer believe; and if I now am an atheist that means I never truly believed in Jesus.
I explain the absurdity of this argument this way: there was a day/time when Jesus and I were married. Our marriage lasted almost 50 years. But, there came a time when I no longer loved Jesus or followed his commands and teachings. Not wanting to be in a loveless relationship, I divorced Jesus. Lots of Christians lose their faith and walk away. Granted, it’s not common for someone of my age and ministerial experience to do so, but it does happen. I know of numerous men who labored in God’s coal mine for decades, only to lose their faith. Christians can pretend all they want that we don’t exist — but we do, and we are not going away.
If in the “real” world a man and woman can get married and later divorce, so it is with those of us who were once the Brides of the Bridegroom — Jesus. Does a divorce negate the past? Of course not. I once was married to Jesus and now we are divorced. Nothing I can do now will erase the memories/experiences Jesus and I shared — even if he was a figment of my imagination.
“But, Bruce, THE BIBLE SAYS!” I don’t care what a critic “thinks” the Bible says. The Bible can be made to say anything; to prove anything; to justify anything. What matters is how a person lives, and my life as an Evangelical pastor measures up to the lives of holy and zealous Christians such as Margo. Even now, as an atheist I do my best to live a moral and ethical life. I’m not perfect, but I do want to treat others well. Is that not the essence of Christianity: to do good to other people? Did not Jesus say that the second tablet of the Law was summed up thusly: to love your neighbor as yourself? I am not bragging here as much as I am saying that I am a decent, kind, loving human being, one who does his best to make the world a better place. Sadly, far too many Christians are focused on eternity, so much so that they ignore what is going on right in front of them.
No matter how tough life may become.. one still knows God is at the helm.//// However, there are true Christians who get down in their boots via the toils of life.. and claim to no longer believe.. and/or have lost their faith. Those types are still saved. ///// What you have done is not that.
When Christ saves the believer,.. he then, SEALS the believer for the day of redemption. In His own ways.. He knows who is whom.. from the instant one hears the Word and truly believes or not. You are no different than those of whom “make a profession of faith in Christ”.. but, sometime down the line.. convert to Islam or Judaism or Hinduism. Those who do such things were never saved.
Margo subtly alleges that something happened in my life — “the toils of life” — to cause me to walk away from Christianity. Instead of “enduring,” I gave up, or so she thinks, anyway. Never mind that my deconversion story has many levels of complexity. Never mind the anguishing tear-filled hours I spent studying the Bible, praying, reading books, and talking to my spouse, hoping that I could somehow, some way hang on to my faith. None of this matters. Margo’s interpretation of the Bible says that I never was a Christian, end of story. E.F. Hutton has spoken.
You’ve taken it a step or two further.. as you enjoy the secular-humanistic ‘doctrines of demons’… and claim to be an atheist. No true born-again believer would ever do such things.
Yet, according to my story, one did. And I know scores of other preachers who have followed similar paths. I may be following “doctrines of demons” now, but years ago I earnestly battled Satan. Filled with the Holy Ghost, I waged war against powers and principalities. This was, of course, a war against a pooka named Harvey, but I sincerely believed I was wrestling angels of darkness. A belief does not have to be grounded in reality for it to affect a person’s life. This is true of all sorts of beliefs, including religious ones.
I don’t need a crystal ball to tell me the future… my future in Jesus Christ. I’m a born-again believing Christian. Not perfect. Just perfect in Christ. Seems YOU Have taken passages of scripture out of context.. and using that as an “excuse” to ‘hate Jesus.’
What Scripture did I take out of context? Is it even possible to take Scripture out of context? The text can literally be made to say almost anything. The Bible teaches several different plans of salvation, yet Margo has determined her plan of salvation and her interpretation of Scripture is the standard by which ALL believers and unbelievers alike will be judged.
For the record, I don’t “hate” Jesus. Why would I waste my time hating a man who died 2,000 years ago? This would be like me hating Julius Caesar or any other historical figure. I am generally not a hater to start with, and I most certainly have never, ever hated an ancient religious figure who lived and died two millennia ago. If I was truly going to hate someone, I’d focus my hatred on the orange-haired toddler currently sucking the life out of our Republic. There’s a man worth hating. “But, Bruce, you wrote a post titled, Why I Hate Jesus. See, that PROVES you hate the Son of God.” “Did you read the post?” If you did, you know that what I hate is the Evangelical characterization of Jesus, not the actual man. My hatred is focused on the Jesus of Evangelicalism, not the flesh and blood man buried in an unknown grave in the Middle East.
Heaven and Hell
Keep going down this path.. and you WILL end up in Hell. And yes…. Hell does exist. Christ taught on Hell plenty. Satan loves self-pity.. and “victims” of whatever he can use to take you to Hell. Hes not choosy. I hope you swallow your pride… and repent. ……..Sincerely, Margo
Ah yes, there’s nothing like being threatened with an imaginary Hell. I have been threatened with Hell more times than I can count. Margo says Hell exists, yet If I asked her for proof of this claim, all she would say is, THE BIBLE SAYS! Well, let’s stick with the Bible. It says Hell is in the bowels of the earth. Surely, we should be able to scientifically determine the existence of Hell. Yet, there’s no scientific evidence for its existence. None.
The only hell I believe in is the one created by and for humans. We make our own hell on earth, and the same goes for heaven. My goal in life is to minimize hell and maximize heaven for everyone. Well, almost everyone. I do have a short list of people I would love to banish to hell. Oh the delight of seeing them tortured day and night with looping video reruns of Donald Trump’s speeches.
Margo signs off with a sanctimonious “sincerely.” Sincerely? Really? Sincerely, my ass. There’s nothing sincere about Margo’s sermons. Sincerity demands decency and respect, none of which have been displayed by Margo. In her mind, I’m just another atheist she has set straight; another false prophet exposed; another notch on her gospel six-shooter.
Comment Two
I’m so sorry…. did you miss the part about Hell not being a threat but, one of God’s promises?
No, Hell is a threat; an idle threat, but a threat nonetheless. Without the threat of Hell and the promise of Heaven, Evangelical churches would empty out overnight. If there’s nothing to fear and nothing to gain, why bother, right? What else would motivate people such as Margo to seek out complete strangers on the Internet and attempt to deconstruct their lives? What has she gained by contacting me? What has she gained by commenting on my Facebook page? Did Margo really think that she could say anything that would cause me to change my ways? Perhaps, Margo just needs to hear herself talk; that her faith is bolstered by going after unbelievers. If God himself — he knows where I am, 345 E Main St, Ney, Ohio 43549 — can’t affect change in my life, what possibly could Margo do?
You are still an apostate and unrepentant atheist because YOU CHOOSE TO BE. In fact, satan owns your mind. And if you desire to press the matter, God can turn you over to a reprobate mind…. IF thats not already where you are.
Margo steps in it here. If I chose to be an atheist, can’t the same be said for me choosing Jesus/Christianity forty-seven years ago? Can’t the same be said for me voluntarily walking away from Christianity?
Margo, warns me that God could give me a reprobate mind if I keep rebelling against him. Too late. I am already a first-class reprobate. My God, I am a Cincinnati Bengals fan. Is there anything more reprobate than that?
I can fuck off better than the rest. The devil loves a pity-party. Good luck w that… and enjoy Hell. Or repent. Its your own immortal soul that you seem to give a single care about. You will go to Hell because you’ve chosen Hell.
I willingly choose Hell. If that means getting away for eternity from people such as Margo, sign me up, Mr. Devil. let’s party, Mr. Beelzebub. Who in their right mind would want to spend every waking minute genuflecting before Jesus? Not I!
I love good fucking, by the way.
I’M HARDLY A PASSIVE CHRISTIAN. You are not the golden standard by which all things are judged. My “brand” of Christianity is THE BRAND of Christianity. Gods brand. Biblical and sound.
It is refreshing to see a Christian actually admit that their religion is exclusionary; that his or her beliefs are the gold standard; that their life is the standard by which truth faith is measured. Usually Christian zealots try to hide their arrogance, but not Margo. She needs to write a book that details what is exactly required for someone to saved. The Bible is oh-so contradictory, so a concise statement as to the requirements for salvation would be greatly appreciated. Since Margo’s beliefs are TRUTH, no need to write theological books or fund Bible colleges. Just read her book and you will know all you’ll need to know! Think of all the money and time that will be saved. Think of all doctrinal fights that will be avoided. Finally, after 2,000 years of internecine warfare, Margo, the Christian has appeared on the scene to set the record straight.
Maybe as a preacher, you misused scriptures that you’ve taken out of context, yes? Maybe you’ve led many to Hell. I have no clue. Maybe you were a wolf in sheeps clothing. Maybe you “became a Christian” for all the wrong reasons? You’ve listened to demonic sermons about making money by charlatans selling blessings? And it didn’t work for you so, you’re flying the coop?
My theology was Evangelical and orthodox. I suspect Margo would have loved me back in my preaching days. I was a man of THE Book. I preached expositional sermons, making sure that I didn’t stray from the clear meaning of Scripture.
Did I lead many people to Hell? Of course not, since Hell doesn’t exist. And in the temporal realm, the here and now, I did all I could to lessen the hell on earth experienced by believers and unbelievers alike. I deeply cared about the welfare of others. I was not passive in putting my faith into action. My prayers had feet on them, not wings. I believed in putting into practice that which I said I believed. I wasn’t perfect, but I damn sure tried to be.
I became a Christian because preachers told me that I was a wicked, vile sinner in need of salvation. Isn’t that the point every Evangelical comes to? I saw myself as a sinner and Jesus as the solution to my sin problem. There’s nothing in my testimony that suggests I believed a false gospel.
The comment about listening to “demonic sermons about making money by charlatans selling blessings” makes no sense to me. I worked for and lived on poverty wages, yet I did so willingly. Why would anyone live the way I did if I didn’t truly believe?
Was I a wolf in sheep’s clothing? Of course not, but Margo has to believe I was for her delusional narrative of my life to be true. I was a deceiver, a liar, a false prophet deceiving the masses. For Margo, believing this is the only way my story fits in her theological box. Not my problem. Perhaps, she needs to get out more and experience the wonderful diversity life has to offer.
I don’t need to read a bunch of excuses as to why you’ve made such an asinine decision.
Translation: I’m not going to read the suggested posts/books. Yet, Margo wants me to listen to her and give her sermon careful thought. Why should I when she doesn’t respect me as a person and accept at face value my story?
I know the simple Gospel of Jesus Christ. And I am very much a human being. Done all my homework.
Margo hasn’t, of course, done ALL her homework. She didn’t read the posts I asked her to read, and in failing to do so, she judged me without sufficient knowledge. She made no attempt to “know” me, yet she rendered judgment anyway. And in doing so, she violated the clear teaching of Scripture: He [or she] that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him. (Proverbs 18:13)
The devil has you by the nose. Hes your master. You were a false-“convert”.. never were a born-again Christian. Just a pawn for satan. Not a damn thing “irrational” about my thinking.
Bam! Bam! Bam! She loves giving it to me, doesn’t she?
There’s nothing irrational about believing virgins have babies and dead people come back to life? Even the Bible admits that the many of the stories of the Bible seem fantastical. That’s why believing them requires suspending rational, skeptical inquiry — also known as faith.
Atheists always want everyone to know how “smart” they are. You’ll not be hearing from me again.
Well, many atheists are quite smart, or at the very least quite educated about religion. In my case, I know what I know. I didn’t magically lose a lifetime of theological knowledge the moment I said I was an atheist. Has Margo not done the same here? “Look at everything I know,” she is saying. She knows who is saved and who isn’t. Margo knows all sorts of things about my life that she can’t possibly know. Why? She doesn’t know me. Margo read a couple of blog posts, and she thinks she now has sufficient evidence to render judgment. Granted, reading the posts on the WHY? page likely wouldn’t have changed Margo’s mind, but at the very least she would have a better, more nuanced understanding of Bruce Gerencser. And that’s all I ask any of my critics to do. Give my writing an honest reading before you pass judgment.
My favorite line in her comment was this: “You’ll not be hearing from me again.” All praise to Loki for such a wonderful blessing.
Saved by Reason,
Bruce
Note
After publishing this post, I intended to send Margo a link to the post in case she wanted to respond. Unfortunately, she deleted all her Facebook comments and blocked me from contacting her.
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 61, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 40 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.
Bruce is a local photography business owner, operating Defiance County Photo out of his home. If you live in Northwest Ohio and would like to hire Bruce, please email him.
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.
Several months ago, I received an email from an Evangelical man who shared with me that he found my story confusing. This is a common problem for Evangelicals when they encounter this site. The reason for their confusion is simple: they can’t fit the narrative of my life within the confines of their theological box — in this man’s case, the Evangelical box. To which I say, that ain’t my problem. All I know is that I once was a Christian, and now I am not. It really is that simple.
The email writer raised several issues, so I thought I would take a stab at publicly answering them. My response is indented.
I stumbled on this site when reading Don Williams words about his daughter who just lost her husband to a shooting in Cameroon Africa.
The articles why you became a Calvinist part 1 and 2 caught my attention and then coming up to date. I can’t help but wonder if what is really being expressed in your writings is like warnings to readers of what can happen when following the teachings of man/men as several men’s intellectual or their writings were sought after. And eventually being led to humanistic view point with no return.
The email writer suggests that what happened to me is that I left the Jesus and the teachings of the Bible and followed after the teachings of mere men. This ultimately led me away from Christianity to humanism. I agree with the man, but I would say the same of him and every person who has ever claimed to be a follower of Jesus. Jesus was a man. The apostles were men. Paul was a man. The authors of the books of the Bible were men. Christianity, if it is anything, is a religion based on the writings of men. All John Calvin and other Calvinistic men did was teach me their spin on the Bible — men explaining what other men said and meant.
As a humanist, I believe that the highest authorities on earth are men and women. Suggesting that there is some sort of supernatural force at work — i.e. God — is a faith proposition, not a fact. Evangelicals say God, through supernatural inspiration, wrote the sixty-six books of the Protestant Bible. The evidence for this claim is what, exactly? “The Bible says” is not valid evidence. Believing the Bible is anything other than a collection of books written by men requires faith, a faith I do not have.
Not wanting sympathy or giving any it’s hard to figure the atheist part because is there really any such thing because everyone has something or someone that has first place in their life Or that they /we idolize —making it an idol or to be a god of our life.
The writer demands I use the Bible as the standard by which I measure/judge my life. Thus, he believes there’s no such thing as an atheist; that everyone worships/idolizes someone or something. Again, the email writer nails it. Of course I have people in my life I worship: my wife of forty years, my six children, my twelve grandchildren, and the Cincinnati Reds. If we worship what we love, then I indeed worship the people that matter to me. However, they are not my God or gods. I don’t exalt them above human experience. I don’t pray to them or call on them to guide/direct my life. And most of all, I never say my life is worthless without them.
Answer to the question about being called to be a pastor can’t see how that can be either because IF were truly called then would still be.
The writer uses an inane circular argument that I find irritating every time a Christian zealot tries to use it on me. I could never have been “called” to a pastor, because if I had been, I would still be a pastor. The Bible says that the calling of God is irrevocable. “Once a pastor, always a pastor,” the thinking goes. This is akin to me saying I once was married, but now I am divorced. I couldn’t have “really” been married, because if I had been, I would still be married. Silly, right?
The email writer can’t square my life with his peculiar beliefs, so the only option he has is to declare that I was never a “true” pastor; never a True Christian®. Wouldn’t it be much easier for him to admit that people become pastors and leave the ministry for all sorts of the reasons. The same could be said for people who were once Christians and now they are atheists, agnostics, humanists, pagans, spiritualists, Buddhists, et al.
All I ask readers to do is accept my story at face value. Instead of trashing me, how about taking a hard look at your theological beliefs? How about pondering the reasons I give for leaving the ministry and Christianity? (Please see Why?) Of course, this rarely happens because THE BIBLE SAYS trumps human experience. This kind of thinking leads to cognitive dissonance.
And about a book you hope to finish writing or finishing your book maybe before the rapture if I understood correctly, of which if I understand correctly an atheist or socialist don’t believe in any such thing as a rapture or being caught up?
Sarcasm, bro, sarcasm. The only rapture I believe in takes place between the sheets in my bedroom.
Don’t much like pointing a finger as it usually has three aiming back- but to unashamedly admit being a pastor of baptist churches and even had started 5 I believe I read then admitting turning to a gospel of a different kind in the name of Calvinist —was that to stir up discord ???
Not at all, but I know my story does trouble a number of Evangelical readers. I am just one man with a story to tell. While I write on all sorts of subjects, the focus of this blog remains my story; my upbringing; my life as a pastor; my deconversion; my present life as an atheist and a humanist. I try to be open and honest, even when it causes personal embarrassment.
Does reading my story lead some people away from Christianity? Yes. Is that my goal? No. Is it gratifying to know that some people find my writing helpful? Yes. Shouldn’t all writers want their work to be well received, to be helpful to others? Yes!
Is there possibly warning with that to be careful because allowing teachings of men to fill our mind can drive our hearts away from the one true foundation ? Is your message to readers to be careful to gird up the loins of our mind? And to beware of the leaven of the Pharisees which is???
No, the real message is that what Evangelicals believe about the Bible cannot be rationally sustained; that the teachings Evangelicals claim are authoritative and infallible are anything but.
If you haven’t read any of Dr. Bart Ehrman’s books, I encourage you to do so. I am confident that his books will disabuse any Evangelical reader of the notion that the Bible is an inspired, inerrant, and infallible text. Whatever the Bible might be, it is not what Evangelicals say it is.
Not sure why I even bothered to write but just happened on your site from the tragedy that occurred to the Wessco family Tuesday and thought maybe it’s meant to be so slander me if you like because it may turn out for good.
You wrote me either out of divine direction from God or because you wanted to. I’m going with the latter. You wrote, and here’s my response. I am not sure why you thought I would slander you. I don’t know you, so I am in no position to render any sort of judgment.
Bruce Gerencser, 61, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 40 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.
Bruce is a local photography business owner, operating Defiance County Photo out of his home. If you live in Northwest Ohio and would like to hire Bruce, please email him.
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.
Bruce Gerencser, Somerset Baptist Church, Early 1990’s
As many readers know, my wife, Polly, and I have six children. Our oldest child will turn forty in May, and our youngest will be twenty-six. We have two distinct families: the oldest three, a space of five years, and then the youngest three. The first group grew up in a strict Fundamentalist Baptist pastor’s home. Economically, during their childhoods, we lived from hand to mouth, and sometimes the hand didn’t quite reach. The latter grew up in a less-strict, more inclusive Evangelical pastor’s home. Economically, things greatly improved — especially from the late 1990s forward. What remained the same for both groups was the fact that their lives revolved around the church and my work as a pastor. It is in this context that my six children know me.
I left the ministry in 2005, and deconverted from Christianity in 2008. For the first time, my children, then ages fifteen through twenty-nine, experienced family life that did not revolve around the church. For the first time, Dad wasn’t the law by which they had to live. In 2009, I sent a letter to family, friends, and parishioners, that said, in part:
I have come to a place in life where I can no longer put off writing this letter. I have dreaded this day because I know what is likely to follow after certain people receive it. I have decided I can’t control how others will react to this letter, so it is far more important to clear the air and make sure everyone knows the facts about Bruce Gerencser.
I won’t bore you with a long, drawn out history of my life. I am sure each of you has an opinion about how I have lived my life and the decisions I have made. I also have an opinion about how I have lived my life and decisions I made. I am my own worst critic.
Religion, in particular Baptist Evangelical and Fundamentalist religion, has been the essence of my life, from my youth up. My being is so intertwined with religion that the two are quite inseparable. My life has been shaped and molded by religion and religion touches virtually every fiber of my being.
I spent most of my adult life pastoring churches, preaching, and being involved in religious work to some degree or another. I pastored thousands of people over the years, preached thousands of sermons, and participated in, and led, thousands of worship services.
To say that the church was my life would be an understatement. As I have come to see, the Church was actually my mistress, and my adulterous affair with her was at the expense of my wife, children, and my own self-worth.
Today, I am publicly announcing that the affair is over. My wife and children have known this for a long time, but now everyone will know.
The church robbed me of so much of my life and I have no intention of allowing her to have one more moment of my time. Life is too short. I am dying. We all are. I don’t want to waste what is left of my life chasing after things I now see to be vain and empty.
….
I know some of you are sure to ask, what does your wife think of all of this? Quite surprisingly, she is in agreement with me on many of these things. Not all of them, but close enough that I can still see her standing here. Polly is no theologian, she is not trained in theology as I am. She loves to read fiction. I was able to get her to read Bart Ehrman’s book Misquoting Jesus and she found the book to be quite an eye-opener.
Polly is free to be whomever and whatever she wishes. If she wants to start attending the local Fundamentalist Baptist church she is free to do so, and even has my blessing. For now, she doesn’t. She may never believe as I believe, but in my new way of thinking, that is OK. I really don’t care what others think. Are you happy? Are you at peace? Are you living a good, productive life? Do you enjoy life? Yes, to these questions is good enough for me.
I have six children, three of whom are out on their own. For many years I was the spiritual patriarch of the family. Everyone looked to me for the answers. I feel somewhat burdened over my children. I feel as if I have left them out on their own with no protection. But, I know they have good minds and can think and reason for themselves. Whatever they decide about God, religion, politics, or American League baseball is fine with me.
All I ask of my wife and children is that they allow me the freedom to be myself, that they allow me to journey on in peace and love. Of course, I still love a rousing discussion about religion, the Bible, politics, etc. I want my family to know that they can talk to me about these things, and anything else for that matter, any time they wish.
The best thing I ever did for Polly and our children is to say to them, you are free. Choose your own path. At the time, I received quite a bit of criticism for doing this. “How dare I cut them loose and ask them to choose their own path when I had, for the most part, dictated their path for them!” While I understood where my critics were coming from, I saw no way to handle things other than setting everyone free. It was time for everyone to fly on his or her own, much like the fledgling kicked out of the nest,
Each of my children has plotted his or her own course. None of them stayed in the Evangelical church, and neither are they all atheists. Some of them are religious/spiritual, and others are indifferent towards religion. Now, this doesn’t mean I agree with all of the choices they have made. What’s different is that they no longer have to conform to Evangelical beliefs/practices/morality/ethics. They don’t have to bow to Bruce Almighty’s authority and interpretation of the Bible. They are, in every way, FREE. Of course, the same goes for their parents. In the Gerencser family, freedom is a two-way street. We may disagree on specifics, but we put our family relationships first. Too bad we didn’t choose this way of life sooner, but crying over the past is a waste of time. What we have is the present and each and every day ahead until we meet our end.
Bruce Gerencser, 2016
Polly and I are blessed to have twelve grandchildren — ten girls and two boys — ages nine months to eighteen years. Our grandchildren only know us post-Jesus, post-church, post-ministry. They have never seen us pray or read the Bible, attended church with us, nor heard me preach. They know Nana as a woman who makes them awesome food and works at Sauder’s Woodworking. Grandpa they know as the man who takes lots of photographs and comes to their games. They know nothing about our previous lives as Pastor and Mrs. Bruce Gerencser. They know nothing about our travels and the churches I pastored. We bought our home in 2007. This is the only house our grandchildren will ever know us to live in. And that’s okay. We hope to live long enough for our grandchildren to grow up, become adults, and have families of their own. We hope that they will have wonderful memories of spending time with Nana and Grandpa. We hope after we are gone that they will drive by our home and have fond memories of playing in our big jungle of a back yard. Maybe they will wistfully say to their own children, “I remember when Nana and Grandpa planted this tree, that bush, or flowers.” Regardless, unlike our children, they will NOT have any memories of Grandpa preaching and Nana playing the piano. That part of our life is foreign to them. All of them, in time, will stumble upon this blog. They will read stories that deeply resonate with their grandparents and parents, but have no connection to them.
A couple of days ago, one of my sons required a letter from me stating that he had been baptized. He and his wife are becoming more active in church, and he wants to become a member. While I was typing up the letter, my son explained to his oldest daughter that I used to be a pastor and that I had baptized him at nearby Harrison Lake. She quizzically looked at me and said, “Grandpa, you were a pastor?” I replied, “Yes. I was for twenty-five years. Someday, when you are older, we will talk about it!” My granddaughter pondered for a moment what I said, and then moved on to other things. Someday, she will know the story of the life and times of Bruce Gerencser. For now, I am content to leave things as they are.
About Bruce Gerencser
Bruce Gerencser, 61, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 40 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.
Bruce is a local photography business owner, operating Defiance County Photo out of his home. If you live in Northwest Ohio and would like to hire Bruce, please email him.
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 grew up in the Evangelical church. Saved at age 15 and called to preach a few weeks later, every aspect of my life was dominated by the teachings of God’s inspired, inerrant, infallible Word — the Bible. In the fall of 1976, at the age of 19, I packed up my worldly belongings and drove north to enroll in classes at 
