“God is a delusion”: I was a Pentecostal preacher — until I lost my faith

[rug]

I was a Pentecostal preacher for decades. When I lost faith, I thought I'd lose everything -- but atheism saved me



Jerry Dewitt

Saturday, Jun 29, 2013 10:37 AM EDT
By Jerry DeWitt and Ethan Brown

Excerpted from "Hope After Faith: An Ex-Pastor's Journey From Belief to Atheism"

And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope.—Romans 5:3–4

For the first time since I’d entered the ministry, I settled in my mind that the spiritual fix I sought in order to return to preaching was unlikely to be found. I was going to have to live my life without a spiritual resolution. I needed to face the cold fact that I would not be back behind the pulpit anytime soon. Preaching at a somewhat traditional Pentecostal church was going to be impossible and I’d even been unable to make the liberal Pentecostalism of Grace of DeQuincy or First Community work for me. But I could not completely let go of the ministry: I had been ministering for nearly twenty-five years and from the very beginning it was not a career but a mission. Perhaps, I reasoned to myself then, I’ll find a mentor in the church and quietly work under him—or maybe I’ll pastor to the faithful individually. But as the spring of 2011 began, I had to push my spiritual crisis even further back into my mind. I was just emerging from the training period with Ronnie, which meant that I’d soon assume real responsibilities at BIG. The promotion would be a big boost to Kelli and me financially as we were just beginning to rebuild from the near financial collapse of my Village Profile period. With a happy, contented wife and a boss who treated me as both a business partner and a brother, life was good again. I couldn’t allow my questions of faith to consume me.

But just after midnight on a still-cool night that May, I was thrust right back into the crisis of faith I had labored so hard to avoid. The roar of a box fan in a corner of our bedroom had finally lulled me to sleep when my cell phone, which I’d just silenced, lit up brightly with an incoming call. As I groggily reached over to the antique, rectangle-shaped wooden nightstand where my phone rested, my heart raced. I’d taken dozens of late-night calls over my more than two decades in the ministry and I knew that good news never arrived at this time of night. When I focused my bleary eyes on the phone, I saw the name of the caller and my spirits sank. It was NaTosha Davis, who ran the soundboard at Grace of DeQuincy. NaTosha was truly like a part of my family; I’d even entered her phone number into my phone under the name “NaTosha Davis/DeWitt.” Though she stood at just barely five foot tall—we’d lovingly nicknamed her “Lil’ D”—her huge smile, quick-wittedness and willingness to assist the church with everything from the sound system to our youth group lent her an outsized presence at our church. As a pastor of a small church like Grace of DeQuincy, anyone who wants to help is appreciated but a strong talent and vivacious spirit like NaTosha is an absolute treasure. “NaTosha?” I whispered as I picked up the phone so as not to wake Kelli. “Yes,” NaTosha stammered. Even though she barely said a word, I could tell that she was already in tears. I slipped my shoes on, headed down the staircase, walked silently through the foyer and then into the tiny bathroom of our guest bedroom so as to let Kelli continue sleeping. I stood uncomfortably between the baby-blue-colored bathtub and the bathroom sink, which was illuminated by a strip of round lightbulbs above a mirror that made the bathroom—which we hadn’t had the money to renovate—resemble a tacky backstage dressing room in a theater.

As I steadied myself at the sink, NaTosha told me that her brother had been severely injured in a motorcycle accident in the Lake Charles area. NaTosha tearfully explained that the ER physicians had failed to revive her brother and that specialists were on the way. Listening to NaTosha, I envisioned her standing outside the hospital and having reached that moment that we all have journeyed to in our lives, when inquiries to nurses and doctors about a loved one’s health have been exhausted and our ability to make the situation any better is depleted. It’s at that moment when you call your pastor in hopes of bringing God’s grace and, perhaps, a resolution to a moment that is steadily speeding toward tragedy. I knew that she wanted me to pray for her brother’s condition to improve and for her to have the strength to weather the storm. To pray that she was able to do the right things and not lose it amidst her family’s tragedy. But NaTosha didn’t say any of this. She didn’t even say, “Will you pray for me, Jerry?” She didn’t have to. Any pastor worth his salt won’t let the conversation go that far. The second that anguished call arrives, it is the pastor’s job to pray. It’s just like when a friend or family member initiates a hug—an embrace is understood and instinctual between two people who care for one another—so asking for a hug renders it meaningless. I had no doubt in my mind what my role was as I listened to NaTosha’s tearful telling of her brother’s motorcycle wreck. Yet I could not pray. And every second that went by without my prayer for NaTosha and her brother felt like an eternity, a profound span of time when NaTosha, one of the most beloved members of my former congregation, was left hopeless and without the spiritual reassurance she so desperately and rightly craved.

I struggled to pray because all of the conflicts that had existed inside me about my faith, which I’d temporarily resolved time and time again through my motivation to remain in the ministry, suddenly fused into an awareness that there was no God. But I could not pray for NaTosha because I loved her so deeply and could not bear setting her up for the kind of crushing disappointment I’d witnessed with Grover and Bobbi’s unanswered prayers over my cousin Gary, or my own prayers for Larry Smith’s sick brother. If I prayed for NaTosha and her brother didn’t make it it wouldn’t be me who would have disappointed her—it would be God who let her down. I didn’t want to initiate in NaTosha the long, painful journey of doubt that I had experienced.

http://www.salon.com/2013/06/29/god_is_a_delusion_i_was_a_pentacostal_preacher_until_i_lost_my_faith/

Saved him from what?

[chervilant]

1. Are you asking

"Saved him from what?" sincerely? As an atheist who wears that label uncomfortably (I believe there's a creative force in the universe--love, life--but NOT a gendered, vengeful, jealous "god" who condescends to answer some prayers) , I can suggest that understanding that there are no gods enables one to live without delusions and without the brittle piousness common among those who *think* they believe.

If you've not already done so, read Chris Hitchens' God is not Great. He explains "atheism" much better than I, and he's funny, too.

[rug]

12. He's describing a born again experience.

I’d gone from a spiritual mission in Christianity to a quest to find out everything that I could possibly know about atheism in a matter of days, and the downtime between these journeys was negligible. Regular, normal life for our family had lasted less than a week. But I felt born again; it was like a salvation that I stumbled across. I could minister to people, I could be in their lives, all without pretending that I was someone who I wasn’t or pretending to know all the answers.

[chervilant]

24. Maybe, he's using

terminology with which he's grown accustomed. I say OMG but it's not meant as a nod to an imaginary deity.

[Ilsa]

2. I guess saved him from the lingering

doubt of unanswered prayers to God. The continuous limbo of being so doubtful, the words for prayer no longer come without forcing them.

I feel badly for him. He lost his faith, a precious thing. But Atheism provided an answer to his doubts. He's left a mystical world behind and embraced reality.

[skepticscott]

3. Why don't you ask him?

Your obsession with posting about atheists will allow that, won't it?

[rug]

14. I know his answer.

Now I have one for you.

Why are you inhabiting the Religion Forum talking about people obsessed with atheism?

[MellowDem]

4. From believing a delusion?

From intellectual dishonesty, cognitive dissonance? From having to lie to others day in and day out? All possibilities, and I can think of much more (like having to defend certain parts of the Bible with terrible logic to friends and family who are condemned by it).

Best part is, after that initial moment of fear overcoming years of indoctrination and delusion, realizing that you need none of it to be happy.

[cbayer]

6. How do you define delusion, Mellow Dem?

And try to do it without using the terms intellectual dishonesty, cognitive dissonance or indoctrination, because they have nothing to do with delusions.

[MellowDem]

7. A belief held with strong conviction...

Based on no evidence, or even with strong evidence of your belief being wrong.

Childhood Indoctrination is how you get a lot of people to believe delusions like religion in the first place. It requires an absence of critical inquiry.

Cognitive dissonance and intellectual dishonesty are the main tools used to keep the delusion in place. Wishful thinking, the tangible benefits of religious community, and the societal costs of not believing all provide plenty of incentive for any rational person to engage liberally in both.

They're all tied closely together in that sense.

[cbayer]

9. Ah, yes. This part is very important: "strong evidence of your belief being wrong."

Do you have such evidence?

If not, then you might want to stop using the term delusion.

You have developed your own definitions for cognitive dissonance, intellectual dishonesty and indoctrination as well. Continuing to use them will not make them more accurate and, again, I would challenge you to produce any data whatsoever that would support your theory that these are seen at a greater rate in the religious.

What you have is dogma, no less so than the fundamentalists, imo.

[cbayer]

5. Interesting story. He uses words liked "born again" and "salvation"

when describing his "conversion". And he talks about adopting new "beliefs".

And he certainly did write a book and hit the lecture circuit in a big hurry.

Any chance he's just a charlatan that has changed teams because he sees an opportunity?

[MellowDem]

8. Not that I can tell

I don't think leaving the probable job security of a pastor for becoming an outspoken atheist would be seen as easy money. Much less losing family and friends as a result.

He publicly deconverted 2 years ago, plenty of time to write a book.

As for the religious language he uses, he was a preacher, and it could make the book more relatable to believers.

No good evidence of him being a charlatan. He probably needs the money with no job, but I see no good reason to doubt his lack of belief. Actually, I find his lack of belief more likely to be sincere than most pastor's stated beliefs, given how they came to them.

[cbayer]

10. Job security of being a pastor? That's pretty funny.

Have you been reading about what is happening with religious affiliation and church attendance recently.

I have a basic mistrust of evangelical ministers, because there have been more than a few outright shysters in their midst.

This guy is very self-promoting.

But you go ahead and defend him. Time will tell.

[MellowDem]

18. I'm not defending him...

Just see no good reason to doubt his lack of faith. You're basic distrust of one type of minister is a bit biased IMHO, nearly all came to their beliefs through indoctrination. None have absolutely any evidence on which to base their beliefs. It wouldn't surprise me if many don't believe at all based on that thin reasoning.

I always suspect people who are self-promoting, and if he is, I may believe his main motivation is money, but that's not relevant to the sincerity of his lack of belief.

As far as I can tell, pastors are desperately needed in many denominations, and the job security is better than being an atheist spokesman I would imagine.

[cbayer]

19. However, I bet you would have seen lots of reasons to doubt his faith.

I'm sorry, but you calling me biased made me laugh out loud.

There is a strong niche market for non-believers right now, and particularly for those that are leaving their churches or religious affiliations.

Data on pastors desperately needed in many denominations? I have read some things about less people going into the priesthood, but nothing else to support what you are saying.

If you are going to make blanket, concrete statements and use terms like "nearly all", you should be ready to back it up. Continuing to say the same thing over and over again without any evidence doesn't make it any truer...

or much different than someone with strong religious beliefs doing the same thing.

[MellowDem]

20. I trust the sincerity more of any belief

That is arrived at through skeptical inquiry rather than indoctrination and faith.

I've posted stats on here before about indoctrination, plenty of evidence of it. Indeed, most pastors engage in indoctrination themselves every day, even of children. They tell others as fact that god is real and what god says. It's part and parcel of the job.

[cbayer]

21. You know, I am going to bid you adieu.

Good luck with your attempts to indoctrinate others to your ideas and beliefs. It is clear that any other POV causes intense cognitive dissonance for you. That's where dogma is born.

[MellowDem]

22. No, dogma is born...

In faith. Only faith allows leaders of religion to set down supposedly objective truths with no evidence and requires no critical inquiry.

[okasha]

11. He seems to have had a view of prayer

often expressed by atheist posters on this board well before his "conversion." He seems to have approached his god as a sort of vending machine--insert prayer, desired result comes clunking down into the dispenser.

Maybe not a charlatan on the scale of Falwell, but certainly an opportunist.

[cbayer]

13. I agree that he is, at the very least, an opportunist.

I can't find anything to support this, but I suspect his church in DeRidder wasn't doing all that well.

He seems to have gone from one kind of evangelism to another.

[okasha]

16. I'm sure he's not the only one to notice

that there's a rather lucrative niche market for this kind of book. He's not as telegenic as Dawkins or Myers, though, and I doubt he has Hitchens' command of the language. He's not likely to make it to the big leagues.

[cbayer]

17. His wiki page describes him as an atheist leader.

This is based on a single article in the NYT, which focused on his involvement in the "Recovery from Religion" program, but he's not even on the board at this time, nor can I find his name anywhere on their site.

He was the executive director for about 14 months and an RR press release says he resigned in January to write and promote his book. They note his primary accomplishment to have been attaining 501(3)c tax exempt status.

[rug]

15. There's definitely a Pentecostal tinge to it.

[Dorian Gray]

23. Maybe but maybe not

he's using terms that he's familiar with and grew up with. Not unusual.