Alexandr Zamușinski is a scholar of religion specializing in secularism, nonreligion, and religious change. He holds a PhD from the University of California, Riverside and is currently Instructor at the Defense Language Institute, Monterey, CA. Email: alexandr.zamusinski@dliflc.edu / ORCID https://orcid.org/0009-0006-7807-8811

Keywords: The Clergy Project, nonbelieving clergy, nonreligion, secularism, behaving without believing

When we think about people leaving religion, we usually imagine ordinary believers quietly drifting away from faith. But there’s another group—smaller, quieter, and far more complicated—whose stories are rarely told: religious professionals who have lost their faith yet often continue to serve within their institutions. These are the nonbelieving clergy. Pastors, priests, rabbis, imams, ministers, monks, and nuns—people whose lives and identities are built around religious leadership but who privately no longer believe in God or the supernatural. Studying them might sound like a narrow niche, but in reality, this group offers one of the most revealing windows into how religion and nonreligion intersect.

For more than a decade, The Clergy Project (TCP)—an online support network for current and former religious professionals who no longer believe in supernatural[i]—has quietly provided a safe space for people in this position. Since its founding in 2011, TCP has grown to nearly 1,400 members from over 50 countries. My research draws on more than five years of engagement with TCP members, including interviews, surveys, and analysis of narratives across diverse traditions[ii]. These people once stood at the heart of religious institutions, trained to guide others in faith and ritual. Yet over time, they moved from supernatural belief to a naturalistic worldview. Their stories— often marked by secrecy, doubt, and deep moral struggle—offer rare sociological insight into what happens when belief collapses within the very institutions meant to sustain it.

The Hidden Side of Deconversion

For many people, leaving religion is already difficult. For clergy, it can be an identity earthquake. Their livelihoods, reputations, and social worlds are often tied to the institutions they serve[iii]. When belief collapses, it’s not just a private loss—it can mean losing family, community, income, and belonging all at once. Some clergy leave openly. But many stay, continuing to preach and perform rituals long after faith has faded[iv]. They do so for many reasons—financial stability, fear of rejection, stigma against nonreligion, or simply not wanting to hurt the people they love. Family is often central here. Many choose silence to avoid causing their parents or spouses pain, or making them feel like they failed as believers[v]. For example, Jim, an ex-clergy from Ontario, Canada, stated: “My mother is 80 and would not understand. It would be a tragedy for her. So, I keep it quiet.” Another poignant account comes from Oliver, a current Baptist deacon in South Africa, who remarked: “My exit strategy at this point in time is to continue maintaining my social life and ties to the church until my parents have passed on and my children have all finished High School. I have no intention of putting further strain on my parents, especially my mother whose health is not good. At that stage, after their death, I will make my lack of belief known and allow my children to decide for themselves the path of life they wish to follow.” This tension between authenticity and belonging produces what I call performative religiosity.[vi] It isn’t hypocrisy—it’s empathy and survival. These clergy navigate a world where their professional role demands belief, but their private conscience no longer allows it.

Behaving Without Believing

We often assume that religion is held together primarily by belief. For most members of TCP, that is indeed the case—once belief disappears, so does religious commitment, and they exit. Yet for others, who may wish to leave religion entirely but cannot due to social or material constraints, religion represents something deeper. It is sustained not only by faith, but by relationships. For many nonbelieving clergy, what keeps them within their religious communities is not doctrine but love—family bonds, communal rituals, shared expectations, or economic dependence, coupled with limited prospects for new employment if they were to come out openly. Another common factor is the pervasive anti-atheist stigma and the fear of ostracism[vii].

This is why studying this group can be valuable for scholars of nonreligion. Their experiences blur the neat boundary between “religious” and “nonreligious.” They reveal how people inhabit the gray zones in between—how belonging and behaving can outweigh believing, and how emotional and moral ties can sustain, or even compel, participation long after faith itself has faded. Such behaving without believing offers crucial insight into secularization. It reminds us that the shift toward nonreligion is not merely about the loss of faith, but also about how individuals and communities renegotiate identity, loyalty, and meaning when belief no longer aligns with behavior.

The Emotional Cost of Secrecy and Disclosure

What struck me most in these stories is the profound emotional cost of living a double life. Imagine standing before a congregation each week, preaching words you no longer believe, all while concealing your disbelief to protect your livelihood or shield your loved ones from distress. For many clergy, this state of secrecy becomes a kind of “closet”. The secrecy is exhausting, but often motivated by care. Remaining closeted can be a way of shielding loved ones from distress or confusion—a form of moral sacrifice that places compassion above personal authenticity[viii].

For those who do “come out” as nonbelievers, the costs can be equally severe—sometimes even greater. Coming out often entails the loss of employment, reputation, and community, and in some cases, family. What one experiences as intellectual honesty or existential integrity, others may interpret as betrayal, arrogance, or moral collapse. The aftermath can be devastating: profound loneliness, social exile, and the painful process of rebuilding one’s life from the ground up. Many of my respondents spoke of rejection not only from their congregations but also from close friends and even family members, including spouses and children. Divorce, isolation, and stigma are common outcomes. For those in midlife, the challenge is especially acute. After decades spent in ministry, many find themselves forced to begin again—searching for new communities, and new sources of meaning. The transition can be profoundly disorienting. Individuals who once served as moral authorities and spiritual guides within their congregations suddenly face the loss of that status and identity. Moving from the pulpit to ordinary forms of employment—driving a taxi, working as a substitute teacher, cleaning, or taking shifts in a supermarket—represents not only a practical adjustment but also an existential one. For many, it feels like a collapse of the very framework through which they once understood their purpose and self-worth. The contrast between who they were and who they have become often brings a deep sense of grief, humility, and alienation. For many, networks like TCP become lifelines—a place to find understanding and support amid upheaval.

Of course, it is essential not to overgeneralize from the example of clergy. They represent a distinctive and highly visible segment of the broader population of nonbelievers. Their experiences of deconversion and disclosure differ markedly from those of lay individuals. Even among clergy, the trajectories of loss and adaptation vary widely. Some choose public transparency—publishing memoirs, giving interviews, or engaging in activism—while others remain silent, disclosing their nonbelief only to a few trusted confidants.

The Clergy Project offers a rare glimpse into this hidden world. It reminds researchers that behind the public face of religion are private, untold stories that complicate our assumptions about faith, doubt, and belonging[ix]. These clergy are not villains or hypocrites. They are people caught in a web of obligations and compassion, trying to balance authenticity with care. Their stories illuminate the emotional, relational, and moral dimensions of deconversion that statistics alone can’t capture. By listening to them, we gain a fuller picture of what it means to move from belief to nonbelief—not as a sudden break, but as a deeply human journey through the spaces in between.

Endnotes

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[i] Upon joining TCP, during the application process on the web-site and during the entrance interview, all members are required to declare that they no longer believe in the supernatural.  For example, they must check the box under the statement: “I consider myself to be a non-theist who does not believe in a supernatural dimension. Specifically, I do not believe in an order of existence that is beyond the visible observable universe appearing to transcend the laws of nature, a mystical dimension, an afterlife, or a god.” – See section “Becoming a TCP Participant” – https://clergyproject.org/nonbelieving-clergy-join/.

[ii] Zamușinski, Alexandr. 2025a. “Understanding the Role of the Clergy Project: Misconceptions and Realities of a Support Network for Nonbelieving Clergy”, Secularism and Nonreligion, 14(1), p. 1-14. https://doi.org/10.5334/snr.211.

[iii] Dennett, Daniel, and Linda LaScola. 2013. Caught in the Pulpit: Leaving Belief Behind. Durham: Pitchstone Publishing.

[iv] Zamușinski, Alexandr. 2025c. “Hidden Apostasy: What Prevents Nonbelieving Clergy from Disclosing Their Lack of Faith?” Journal of Contemporary Religion. 40(3) (pages TBD), October 2025. https://doi.org/10.1080/13537903.2025.2580133

[v] Ibid.

[vi] Ibid.

[vii] Zamușinski, Alexandr. 2025b. “How Anti-Atheist Prejudice Keeps Non-Believing Clergy Silent: The Clergy Project Participants Share Their Pain”. The Journal of Religion and Culture. Vol. 30 p. 5-34. https://www.jrc-concordia.ca/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/Article1_ZamusinskiAlex_JRCVol30_2025.pdf

See also Abbott, Dena, and Debra Mollen. 2018. “Atheism as a Concealable Stigmatized Identity: Outness, Anticipated Stigma, and Well-Being.” The Counseling Psychologist 46 (6): 685-707.

Frost, Jacqui, Christopher Scheitle, and Elaine Howard Ecklund. 2023. “Patterns of Perceived Hostility and Identity Concealment Among Self-Identified Atheists.” Social Forces 101 (3): 1580–1605.

[viii] Zamușinski, 2025c. See also Gull, B. (2021). ‘We Are the Women Our Parents Warned Us Against’: Identity Reconstruction and the Re-imagining of Gender After High-Cost Religious Disaffiliation. Symbolic Interaction 45 (1): 97-122.

[ix] See also Fader, Ayala. 2020. Hidden Heretics: Jewish Doubt in the Digital Age. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Brewster, Melanie. 2014. Atheists in America. New York Chichester: Columbia University Press.

Brooks, Marshall. 2018. Disenchanted Lives: Apostasy and Ex-Mormonism Among the Latter-day Saints. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press.

Cottee, Simon. 2015. The Apostates: When Muslims Leave Islam. London: C. Hurst & Co.