The Christian’s Guide to Ex-Christians: Ex-timonies and Testimonies

The Christian’s Guide to Ex-Christians: Ex-timonies and Testimonies February 11, 2018

I should have guessed that one of these fine days Christians would discover ex-Christians and our custom of sharing deconversion stories, or (as we often call them) ex-timonies. As usual, Christians have totally gotten the whole matter wrong about these stories. They’ve revealed a few very unpleasant aspects of their own tribe in the doing. So here, at last, is the real skinny: here’s what an ex-timony actually is and how it differs from Christians’ testimonies!

its time: spring is springing forth
(Elias Gayles, CC.)

A Quick Primer: Christian Testimonies.

A Christian testimony is a narrative that Christians are encouraged to develop and rehearse after they either convert to or confirm their faith. Then, they share it with both Christians and non-Christians.

Usually, a testimony takes three parts. First, the pre-conversion life (which is meant to sound either hopeless and dreary, or else wracked with dysfunction, or else excitingly fast-living–but in all cases the Christian longs for something more). The second part moves into the conversion moment itself, often presented in conjunction with a miracle claim. And the third inevitably involves how much happier and better the Christian thinks life is since conversion. This last part usually inverts the first part.

Christians almost universally exaggerate all three of these elements.

If aimed at audiences that are largely already part of the correct flavor of Christianity, then the testimony is offered up as a way of reinforcing tribal beliefs and to gain the tale-bearer some attention. If aimed at other audiences, particularly at those who are hostile to the tale-bearer’s ideology, then it will be told with an eye more toward selling the Christian’s ideology to those folks. If you like narrative structures as much as I do, then you might find them interesting from that standpoint!

The Goal in Sharing Testimonies.

For some weird reason, Christians think that testimonies are excellent sales tools. Thus, churches encourage members to craft these stories. Most Christian websites have at least a few pages devoted to that very task. Christians can easily find books and video series on the topic as well.

And what’s so comical is that Christians are actually flat-out wrong about the power of testimonies as a sales tool.

In reality, I’d be hard-pressed to think of anybody I’ve ever known who heard a testimony and was impressed by it–even (especially?) if it involves miracles. I include here my actual years as a true-blue Christian. In fact, that realization turned out to be a deflating experience.

Typically most audiences know to discount any mentions of miracles at all, especially claims of miraculous turnarounds in personality. But once a bad or wrong idea enters into the ideology of a broken system, it stays there. Christians’ leaders no longer allow them to question the power of testimonies in making Jesus sales.

(You’ll know when Christians are finally starting to get serious about their churn rate when they start asking what really works to reverse their declines.)


A successful deconversion means that at some point you realize there is absolutely no going back to Christianity.  You realize that you have seen enough, that you couldn’t possibly believe it again even if you wanted to.  It’s not a case of God “changing the locks” when you leave the house, it’s more a matter of realizing that faith is not a sound guide to what is true.

ThereAndBackAgain, May 2017

Now that we’ve lined up what testimonies are and why they’re created and told, we’re ready to look at what deconversion stories, or ex-timonies, are.

An ex-timony is a usually-spontaneous telling of the story of a Christian’s deconversion from the religion. No websites, books, or videos exist to coach an ex-Christian in making these.

That said, they do usually feature an essentially three-act structure as well. Usually the first part of the story involves establishing the person’s Christian bona fides through a quick summary of their time in the religion. The second part involves the moment that they finally realized that they’d been sold a bill of goods about Christianity–though sometimes their deconversion follows a series of small discoveries and is more a drifting-out experience than a dramatic ending. And the third involves how they’re doing since deconverting. Sometimes the third act is an inversion; often, however, it isn’t.

That’s where any similarities to Christian testimonies end. And I’m inclined to believe that even that similarity exists not because ex-Christians are imitating Christians’ testimonies, but because a three-act structure like we see in testimonies and ex-timonies just appeals to us as people. Even then, within that three-act structure we can detect a number of other dissimilarities between an ex-timony and a testimony.

The Goal in Sharing Ex-Timonies.

As to the motivations for telling these stories, ex-Christians use them as a sort of introduction to ex-Christian groups. It’s a way of establishing and finding camaraderie–and of having your experiences validated by people who really, truly get you because we’ve all been through something similar.

And, too, telling an ex-timony is an act of personal triumph over what is often a very oppressive and abusive ideology. Often the emotion I see pouring out of someone who’s just given an ex-timony for the first time is relief. They’ve finally told their personal truth; they’ve finally come clean.

That feeling of relief and that acceptance are usually the only tangible rewards that an ex-Christian can expect after giving an ex-timony. Nobody’s going to give them money, a book contract, or a preaching job based upon it, that’s for sure. And if their ex-timony is ever connected back to them personally, then they might well expect some serious retaliation in the form of Christian love from their former tribemates.

Sometimes a former Christian leader (like Jerry DeWitt a few years ago) will try to move into a similar role post-deconversion, but their ex-timony won’t be how that happens–as opposed to how a Christian with a super-dramatic testimony might well try to springboard off of that testimony into a leadership role in Christianity, as Mike Warnke and Tony Anthony did for a while before being exposed as fakes.

The Essential Question of Truthfulness.

Possibly the biggest difference I’ve ever seen between testimonies and ex-timonies involves their truthfulness. I’ve never heard of an ex-timony that turned out to be untrue. I’m sure it’s happened at some point, sure. However, I can’t even remember many Christian testimonies turned out to be exaggerated or made up.

At any rate, after the ex-timony is given, then the person who gave it is now part of the group. From there, it’s what we do moving forward that matters most. Ex-Christians don’t “dine out” on ex-timonies.

And gang, there are many many thousands of ex-timonies out there nowadays. From this blog’s own official forum to big sites like, ex-Christians have more ways than ever to tell their stories.

It was only a matter of time before Christians noticed what we were up to–and warped and mischaracterized ex-timonies to suit their own grabby pushes for dominance.

(liz west, CC.)

Christian Criticisms of Ex-Timonies.

Slowly but surely, Christians are catching on to ex-timonies. Check these three essays out:

These essays display a lot of Christian love, for sure! And all three display the indignance of once-dominant tyrants over their loss of power. Ultimately, these TRUE CHRISTIANS™ tend to have the same basic criticisms and the same basic misunderstandings (it’s just sooooooo weeeeeeeeeeeeird, right?), so we can examine them all at once.

As well, these posts reveal their authors’ own flaws. As we saw when we talked about the Law of Conservation of Worship, Christians automatically assume that everybody does everything for the same reasons that they do.

Poisoning the Well.

Ex-Christians may well rival atheists as their biggest tribal enemy lately! In our case, they have a big problem. We used the product, often for years. However, we didn’t get the results that Christians promise. Often, our membership in the religion hurt us enormously. And we often talk about the deal-breakers we found in Christian folklore and mythology.

So first, Christian critics must invalidate our reasons for dissatisfaction. Second, they must make us look like untrustworthy and unreliable narrators. And they must do these things while also making Christian testimonies look reliable and trustworthy. That’s not as easy a task as it might seem!

Mainly Christians’ goal is to poison the well. They need Christians to distrust, sneer at, and steer clear of ex-timonies. So as we progress through our critique, be considering how Christians try to play Last Ideology Standing with competing narratives.

Criticism 1: Meaniepie Ex-Christians Are Trying to Deconvert Us! Waaah!

From the piece:

Deconversion stories are daunting. This one is especially so since it purports to tell us not just why a former Christian changed his mind, but why people like him will never be converted again.

From the “literally blow your mind” piece:

The reason I am writing about this is because my testimony made me wonder if people who supposedly “deconvert” from Christianity ever feel the same way I do, specifically about their own religious stories. You know, could they more effectively “sell” their new found disbelief if their own tales were more compelling?

And from the asshat who wrote about Jen Hatmaker’s “deconversion” story:

De-conversion stories are designed not to reach non-Christians but to reach Christians. And their purpose is to convince them that their crusty, backward, outdated, naïve beliefs are no longer worthy of their assent.

All of these writers reveal their misunderstanding of what ex-timonies are and what they are meant to accomplish.

Refuting Criticism #1.

Here, I’ll let Sean Connery take it away. This bit of dialogue comes from his excellent 1990 movie The Russia HouseIn this scene, American and British spies discuss some secrets they think Connery’s character has obtained.

Russell: Mr. Blair, we are buying a Picasso. Okay? You don’t mind an occasional metaphor, do you?
“Barley” Scott Blair: Not at all.
Russell: Good. Some people don’t like my metaphors. I don’t know why. But anyway, everyone in this room is buying the same Picasso. It’s, uh, very rare. Medium-rare. Well-done. What the fuck. The bottom-line question is, “Did Picasso paint it?” And you’re the man who is selling it to us.
Barley: It is not my Picasso, Russell. It is not my Picasso. And I’m not saying it is a Picasso and furthermore, I’m not selling it to you. And lastly, I don’t give a fuck whether you buy it or not.

Blair’s involvement in this whole fiasco is tangential at best. He’s not invested in these secrets at all. Thus, it doesn’t matter to him how reliable these randos think he is.

In the same exact way, nobody is telling ex-timonies to Christians in order to deconvert them. That’s not even a blip on our radar. We know that we’re not going to deconvert someone through a deconversion story–just as we know that nobody’s converting through testimonies. I don’t think I have ever even once heard, in all my years hanging out with ex-Christians and being one, of someone doing that.

Relax, I wish I could tell them. If someone’s gotten to a place where they’re actually paying attention to ex-timonies, then the deconversion ship is already pulling anchor.

Criticism 2: Ex-Christians Are Either Lying or Exaggerating.

From the piece, we encounter some moral leveling and attempts to have it both ways. The writer of it declares that he didn’t see exactly what Neil Carter describes in his ex-timony. Obviously, then, it never happened:

I don’t know what church Carter went to that routinely taught him he was scum, but in 43 years of church-going all over the country I have never heard such a thing.

From the “blow your mind” piece, a dig at ex-Christians who feel the need to share deconversion stories at all:

If I had some sort of sudden epiphany or a gradual “intellectual awakening” that caused me to question my faith to the point I could no longer sincerely believe, I would simply walk away from faith without fuss, guilt, shame, controversy, endless talk, therapy, blogging…In other words, I am absolutely certain my “deconversion” story would be the most uninspired and boring tale ever told. And that is something, I think, many evangelical deconvertees who take up arms against God are not OK with.

From the Jen Hatmaker piece, a creepy attempt to negate the cruelty–even to the point of death threats–that Ms. Hatmaker’s experienced since declaring that she’s all for LGBTQIA rights and dignity:

. . . No doubt some people were cruel, mean, and unchristian to her. And such behavior should be called out for what it is: wrong. At the same time, there’s nothing illegitimate about people criticizing her newfound theology. Much of the response to Hatmaker was simply vigorous opposition to her new direction.

In these essays, Christians seek to hand-wave away blatant hypocrisy within their ranks.

Refuting Criticism #2.

I can see why they’d need to do that. Nobody in Christianity usually likes thinking about how endemic hypocrisy is in the religion.

After all, they cannot do anything about it.

Ex-Christians know that it’s all but impossible for us to really get through to still-believing Christians about how abusive and downright nasty their groups often are. They’ve spent their lives compartmentalizing and hand-waving away those complaints. Until a few cracks in the facade start showing, a Christian can’t usually even perceive problems. Until then, their only recourse is to suppress us or to negate us. The most they will ever concede to us is that sure, maybe a very small few of our complaints might kinda occasionally have a very little merit. Overall, they’re certain we’re flat-out wrong.

If Christians were more honest about their own testimonies, they might not leap to dishonesty to negate us. I’ve certainly known some ex-Christians who weren’t honest, yeah. But on the whole, I’d say that we’re orders of magnitude more honest than Christians are. And we see the religion a lot more clearly than they can.

Criticism 3: Ex-Timonies Are Totally Mean, If Not Actual Persecution.

The author of that piece enjoys some fearmongering:

In parleys about emotionally charged issues, especially spiritual ones, it’s not unusual for disparaging, derisive, or sarcastic language to creep into the conversation. In Carter’s case, phrases like “the belief system they are trying to sell us,” and “even on our deathbeds we would have to simply trust that we weren’t sold a bill of goods” are part of the rhetorical gamesmanship meant to subtly color the discussion.

From the “blow your mind” piece, a subtle whine:

. . . by shifting attention off of the logically absurd and hopeless lack of belief in God and on to fantastically dramatic, and probably embellished, deconversion horror stories that attempt to make Christianity out to be a faith everyone with any sense of decency should run from.

From the Jen Hatmaker piece, an overt and explicit declaration that fundagelicals are totally being persecuted. Specifically, that author targets essays that criticize evangelicals’ deeply held beliefs that are coincidentally “younger than the Happy Meal:”

. . . if one wants to talk about “satire” and “outrage” and internet “hit pieces,” Hatmaker might do well to observe the outrageous level of vitriol displayed by the LGBQT community and its advocates in the mainstream press toward Christians who don’t embrace our culture’s new sexual direction.

Sometimes I wonder if these folks even read the essays they blather about.

Probably not.

Refuting Criticism #3.

Remember, Jen Hatmaker hasn’t actually deconverted.

Thus, her story isn’t even vaguely an ex-timony.

It shares only a three-act structure with ex-timonies. But because she’s left the fundagelical culture-warrior tribe, she gets lumped in with us. (Don’t worry, I’d tell her if I could. We’ve got your back, and we’ve got cookies.)

Again, nobody’s telling ex-timonies to convert anybody. Thus, it’d be tough to make a real case for ex-Christians being mean to Christians–much less one arguing that ex-timonies represent persecution. Christians leaders indoctrinate their flocks to discount any criticisms of their behavior and ideology. So these three negating essays simply extend that indoctrination. These essays represent damage control.

After whining about how meeeeeeeeeeeeean deconversion stories are, evangelicals then demand silence and compliance. On rare occasions, a Christian can even kinda-sorta-halfway agree that abuses and cruelties exist. However, they will not ever think about fixing anything. Instead, they police and silence those discussing the problems.

We’re Not Going Away.

Mainly these essayists would love it if ex-Christians would shut up. But that isn’t going to happen. They can police us all they wish and argue with us about our own stories all they want. They can try to write angry little posts that totally mischaracterize us and our intentions all they please.

All this effort is going to do is make them look worse in the long run.

We’re still going to tell our stories, and as time goes on people are going to care less and less what fundagelicals think about anybody.

Ultimately, that kind of absolute irrelevance may well be what Christians like these three essayists fear the most.

And We’re Not Shutting Up.

Here’s the reason why Christians react to ex-timonies the way we’ve seen here today:

Salespeople will never accept any reason we offer for rejecting them. They focus exclusively on sales. Thus, they seek to shut us up before their existing customer base hears us. The flocks might begin wondering about all these one-star reviews!

As Christians become more aware of ex-Christians, expect them to start treating us more and more savagely and cruelly. They need to turn our hard-won truths into some bizarro form of sinister conspiracy.

Ex-Christians are already well aware of how Christians have always mischaracterized us. Well, don’t expect that antipathy to decrease, is all. Winter is coming.

Don’t stop sharing your truth. We need you.

Next, speaking of testimonies, I’ll be sharing mine. See you then!

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(Cas tidied up this post on October 4, 2019.)

About Captain Cassidy
Captain Cassidy grew up fervently Catholic, converted to the SBC in her teens, and became a Pentecostal shortly afterward. She even volunteered in church (choir, Sunday School) and married an aspiring preacher! But then--record scratch!--she brought everything to a screeching halt when she deconverted in her mid-20s. That was 25 years ago. Now a comfortable None, she blogs on Roll to Disbelieve about psychology, pop culture, politics, relationships, cats, gaming, and more--and where they all intersect with religion. And she still can't carry a note in a bucket. You can read more about the author here.

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