Rosaria, by the standards of many, was living a very good life. She had a tenured position at a large university in a field for which she cared deeply. She owned two homes with her partner, in which they provided hospitality to students and activists that were looking to make a difference in the world. There, her partner rehabilitated abandoned and abused dogs. In the community, Rosaria was involved in volunteer work. At the university, she was a respected advisor of students and her department’s curriculum. And then, in her late 30s, Rosaria encountered something that turned her world upside down—the idea that Christianity, a religion that she had regarded as problematic and sometimes downright damaging, might be right about who God was, an idea that flew in the face of the people and causes that she most loved. What follows is a story of what she describes as a “train wreck” at the hand of the supernatural. These are her secret thoughts about those events, written as only a reflective English professor could.
"Conversion put me in a complicated and comprehensive chaos. I sometimes wonder, when I hear other Christians pray for the salvation of the “lost,” if they realize that this comprehensive chaos is the desired end of such prayers. Often, people asked me to describe the “lessons” that I learned from this experience. I can’t. It was too traumatic. Sometimes in crisis, we don’t really learn lessons. Sometimes the result is simpler and more profound: sometimes our character is simply transformed." —Rosaria Butterfield
Rosaria is a former tenured professor of English at Syracuse University. After her conversion to Christianity in 1999, she developed a ministry to college students. She has taught and ministered at Geneva College and is a full-time mother and pastor's wife, part-time author, and occasional speaker.
I try to be fairly judicious with my five-star ratings, but this little autobiographical sketch of one woman's journey from her place in life as a lesbian, radical-feminist English professor to a stay-at-home-Psalm-singing-homeschooling-foster-mom-pastor's wife earned every bit of the five stars. While many pop-evangelical conversion stories are written in an often-clunky style that yields a narrative arc that reads something like "bad, bad, bad, bad - JESUS - problems solved", Dr. Butterfield's story is honest, glorious, wise, and a punch in the gut. Her story is one that reveals Jesus of Nazareth as no tame lion but also as the perfectly resplendent and irresistible Bright and Morning Star.
But what is, in this reviewer's opinion, equally important as the spiritual transformation that Dr. Butterfield chronicles is the neighborhood the reader gets to know along the way. For instance, for those of us who have no concept of what life is like inside the gay and lesbian community, we are treated to a respectful description of that community and the virtues that are inherent in it from a person who was leaving it. There is no sense of bitterness or contempt toward the gay community in Dr. Butterfield's account - no sour grapes - just a visceral recollection of the personal agony caused by leaving it juxtaposed with the irresistibility of the call of Christ on her life.
As a part of her exodus from the gay and lesbian community, Dr. Butterfield is folded into a Reformed Presbyterian church community that walks alongside her through her pain. But it is this same church community that gives her her deepest wound - a wound that she receives just as she seems to be finding her footing in Christ's church. This reader wondered for a time if the grace of the cross and the empty tomb would be enough to sustain her. Ironically though, it was this deep wound that helped her regain her "safe person status" in the eyes of the gay and lesbian community, thus granting her opportunities to minister Christ to those who felt she had betrayed them. As one lesbian neighbor said to her, "I didn't give a damn about who God was to you in your happiness. But now that you are suffering, I want to know: who is your God? Where is he in your suffering?" (pg. 60)
The middle and end of this autobiography is a description of her growth in Christian maturity, but she engages the reader quite well so as to prevent the narrative from becoming tedious or difficult. The portion where Dr. Butterfield is the most critical (and appropriately so) is where she helps us see where our spiritual formation is too often superficial and how the church frequently allows us to frolic in our biblical immaturity. She uses her experiences as a visiting professor at Geneva College, her time trying to minister to college students in a small church plant in Virginia, the heart-rending life of a foster-to-adopt family, and the highs and woes of the world of homeschooling to walk her readers through the lessons of life that helped form Christ in her.
There is so much to be learned from Dr. Butterfield's story that no review could ever highlight all that is valuable in it. There is so much to enjoy in her beautifully written prose that I can't imagine only reading this once. I found her story a little bit like that Narnian lion: it is good but not safe. Dr. Butterfield will make her readers want to sing and repent, to tear down the vapid and vacuous parts of our lives while showing us the uncommon grace that is obvious in our own experiences if we only have the courage to look for and embrace it by faith.
This started out so strong; I was sure I was going to love it. But after the account of her background and her conversion, I ended up disappointed.
I felt like she made the leap from "former lesbian feminist professor, reluctant/resentful convert" to "homeschooling pastor's wife" too quickly in the narrative. I would have liked to read more about *how* she transitioned into this new life. How did she lose the job at Syracuse? How did her relationship with her pastor-husband develop? What became of her relationships in the gay community that were initially strained but still important to her early on? How did her faith in Jesus transform from resenting His meddling in her life, to actually embracing faith in Him and feeling joyful about it? Meanwhile, instead of really delving into these things, she spent an inordinate amount of time arguing for the Regulative Principle of Worship and defending her particular denomination, which I found unhelpful, unnecessary and off-putting. The parts about her experience as a foster parent and adoptive mother were inspiring, but the story arc as a whole felt sort of jarring, with too many missing pieces.
I still think she has valuable insights to offer the church, especially with regard to evangelism and community. Hers is a unique perspective as both "outsider" and "insider," and she has sharp, poignant critiques that Christians should take seriously. But in the end this book wasn't what I thought it would be, and I was dissatisfied that it fell short of what it easily could have been.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This book has a lot going for it. The first half was why I read it, and the second half is why I gave it only three stars.
If the book were only her conversion experience, it would be one of the best books on the subject of dying to self and receiving new life in Jesus one could hope to come across. Here's what's so great about that first half: - It shows in a dramatic way where the heart of evangelism is: hospitality. I heard Rosaria Butterfield interviewed on the radio recently, and she very provocatively said, "If you only ever have church people in your home, that is not hospitality; it is fellowship." A moment's reflexion will reveal to you that she is absolutely right. This is convicting for me. It has made me commit myself to having strangers in my home a lot more often. To make it concrete for me, I have decided to have unbelievers in my home once a month at least. - People outside of the church live in messy environments, and we should expect that. Hey, Christians often have pretty messy lives, too, did you notice? Why are Christians so scandalized by the sinful lifestyles of unbelievers? It's because we're comfortable with some sins (like the ones I commit) but other sins, well, they're just wrong. We need to wake up to this. People who have gay sex are still made in God's image, and your sin is just as ugly as theirs. - Unbelievers are not the absolute pit of evil Christians think they are. Really. The militant pro-gay crowd REALLY believes they are doing the right thing. They see themselves as fighting for the cause of the oppressed, and they are sincerely doing this. Before we go gay-bashing, how about listening to their concerns and desires first? Our words need to be seasoned with salt, not poison. That doesn't mean they are RIGHT to believe the way they do, but we could do so much better with our witness if we would not condemn out of the box. Ready, FIRE, aim! is a bad way to operate. - Coming to faith means dying to self. Her coming to faith was like a train wreck. She lost everything. Christianity ruined her life, but she had no choice but to come to Jesus. Christians need to be ready to support people who come to faith, because their world is crashing down around them. They are starting over, how can you help?
We win people to Christ gradually through establishing and maintaining real relationships with them. It's hard work, but it is rewarding.
The book stopped being good when she started writing about her theology, church, family, homeschooling, etc. It is nice to see how things turned out for her, but she could have summarized all that stuff in a few paragraphs. I am thrilled she ended up in the RPCNA. She didn't need to give a defense of why exclusive psalmody and the regulative principle are her favorite things. All she needed to say was she's in the RPCNA because that's the church where she heard the gospel. But she kept writing. She even said at one point that the OPC doesn't sing Psalms. That's news to me. Every OPC I've been to has copies of the RPCNA Psalter in the pews and uses it for worship. If the OPC doesn't sing Psalms, neither does the RPCNA by that logic.
The stories of adoption are interesting. I liked how she linked it up with the gospel, but again, the stories of family life take away from the real punch of the book.
So go read the first half of the book, up to the chapter called "the good guys". It isn't really worth reading from that point. But that first half, man, it packs a wallop.
What I appreciated most about the book was the glimpse into how love, patience and relationship building was the true apologetic that allowed the Gospel to take seed and eventually germinate into a life radically changed by Jesus Christ. Just the first two chapters alone make the book worth reading as the reader gets a small idea from a human perspective how truly devastating it can be for someone to give up their complete identity and world-view to follow Christ. I also appreciated some of Butterfield's comments related to the challenges of a new believer being integrated into the Christian subculture and how the church in America struggles to appreciate diversity in it's politics, schooling, child-rearing and ideas on race. Chapter 3 had a really excellent critique of the excuses people use to leave churches because of the "theology of fear" we have unwittingly accepted. The section on the Regulative Principle seemed unnecessary and unwelcome, and for that I could only give the book four stars. Some thought provoking challenges on Christian's being active in adoption and foster children that are worth considering.
After reading such an amazing book, wherein the author articulates her thoughts with such a command of language; I want to give a thought provoking review that at least makes a pretense to simulate the authors work.
But the only word that comes to mind is, "Wow".
Seriously, "Wow".
I guess I should be a little more serious, but the book really is that good. Her use of critical thinking and examination of worldview as it applies to Christianity and our culture as a whole; is truly refreshing.
Please hear what I'm about to say..... Regardless of your current views, faith or for that matter whatever position that you may be leaning toward in our culture's current war of values; you should listen to what she has to say. This is a very personal story that enables us to see the thought process of a intelligent and well-educated person as she examines faith in Jesus as it applies to her life. This book is nothing if not raw and honest.
One of my favorite quotes that I think exemplifies the authors attitude. "One of God's greatest gifts is the ability to see and appreciate the world from points of view foreign to your own, points of view that exceed your personal experience." This attitude enabled the author to examine some of her own deeply held convictions. But also know this, she continues to examine her new convictions just as critically .
By the way, in case your worried about stereotypes; don't. This book is not anywhere near "preachy".
Hmmmm, it wasn't what I expected. I really loved the first chapters about Rosaria's conversion and the love that others showed her. But the rest of the story felt a bit disjointed at best, and at worst slightly egotistical. Emphasis on her denomination and some of their practices being superior, among other things left the story falling flat at the end. For me anyway.
I grew up in the Reformed Presbyterian denomination that Butterfield joined, and I’m also a faculty member in an English Department at a state university. Both of these perspectives influenced how I reacted to this book.
As I read, I kept wondering how the old Rosaria—-the tenured academic who wrote about psychoanalysis and gender—-would interpret the new Rosaria:
Would the old Rosaria note Jacques Lacan’s famous assertion that “there is no sexual relation” while considering how the author consistently sets sexuality and relationship against one another—-locating sexuality in the realm of individual pride and isolating it from the humanness of one’s sexual partner(s)—-reducing the human other to an object of sexual desire and consumption? Would she note how this enables the author to effectively distance herself from any relationship-claims that her previous lesbian partner might have upon her—-ultimately allowing her to erase _____ from the later narrative?
Would she identify the complex gender norms displayed in the author’s use of pronouns when naming J early on in the book? Would she note how J is then eliminated from the story at the moment when such gender complexity would disrupt the simplicity of the author’s post-conversion insistence on fixed gender identity?
Would she note the not-so-occasional use of violent metaphors in the authors’s post-conversion discussions of gendered relationships with pastors and other church leaders?
Would she question the author’s memory and/or honesty when contrasting lines like “I’m a postmodernist . . .” against the claim that she felt compelled to study Greek in order to understand how the readers in the “Religious Right” (most of whom aren’t reading their texts in Greek) respond to and interpret the Bible within their own communities?
Would she wonder why the author opens up questions about the tensions between biblical infallibility and orality; the use of male pronouns in sermons; and the relationships between faith, doubt, and reason? Would she wonder why these questions are sidestepped or silenced almost as quickly as they are raised?
Perhaps these questions are irrelevant—-Butterfield goes to great lengths to emphasize the radical nature of the changes in her post-conversion perspective. I’m certain that these questions are unconcerning to many of her readers. But, as someone who has a personal understanding of both academics and the basic teachings of the Reformed Presbyterian Church, this book feels simply dishonest.
Butterfield leans on her academic credentials when they are convenient, but she ignores basic critical and interpretive methods when they might challenge her to defend more deeply her post-conversion perspectives. She argues that conservative churches need to be more thoughtful in their approach to gays and lesbians, but, instead of modeling this thoughtfulness, her narrative is an exercise in systematic erasure. She makes at least some effort to present complex LGBTQ individuals in the early chapters of the book, but these characters are entirely abandoned by the second half. In the end, _______, J, and the rest of them seem to function as mere props to demonstrate how shocking and “radical” Butterfield’s old life was. Once that point is made, each and every one of them is cast aside.
This is a personal memoir, not a political or professional monograph, and different standards apply. But Butterfield must certainly be aware that her academic credentials lend added weight to her voice for many of her readers in the context of an ongoing religious and political debate about the status of LGBTQ individuals and families—-a debate that has real and very practical consequences for _____, J, and many of the other people she describes from her former life. I’m not going to question the sincerity of her beliefs or the labels she applies to her sexual identity, but when engaging criticism, she manufactures straw arguments and reduces critical methods to crude stereotypes. A professor and a teacher should be able to do much better than that.
In this book I found a friend who was also a stranger.* Many readers will perhaps experience something similar - a story with many familiar scenes but shown from a different angle, revealing things previously uncontemplated. And many scenes that one would expect to feel strange but find to be suprisingly resonant.
In a word, this book will get inside of you. You will want to listen, to argue, to laugh, to apologize, to question, to pray, to ponder . . . and before you know it, you'll be turning the last page and wondering how to begin to process everything that has been churned up within you.
Of all the audiences Dr. Butterfield could have written for, she chose one close to home. People in many different places in life will benefit from what this story illuminates. But those most likely to benefit from her loving descriptions and blunt critiques are folks who have grown up comfortably in evangelical and Reformed churches. She exposes blind spots as only a sometime-outsider can do. And she minces no words about the costs and struggles and difficult truths that we'd rather ignore.
But at bottom, this is more a story of the author's God than the author herself. For that is who she really wants to introduce you to, whether you think you know him or rather wish he/she/it didn't exist. And the unflinching honesty of the personal portrait will lead you there.
*Disclosure: I count the author a friend and experienced a couple years of this story personally. Reading these "secret thoughts" now just makes me wish I had been ready to hear more of them then.
An important book that many in the Christian community (maybe particularly Reformed & Presbyterian) should read. Basically, this book is an autobiography of radical, leftist university professor who found herself in a Small, conservative, psalm-singing denomination by God's (intruding & disruptive) grace. The book tracks roughly 15 years of her life: from her days as a university prof to her current life as a pastor's wife who homeschools their several adopted children. Overall, I liked the book. She has some very insightful, very helpful reflections on everything from evangelism to adoption to psalm-singing to church culture. I liked it. The first 3 chapters were worth the price of the book. While it was interesting to see how Butterfield dons her new identity as the wife of an RPCNA pastor, I wasn't as interested in the last couple chapters.
Things I learned:
1) Don't treat your post-conversion sin as if it is less offensive to God than your pre-conversion sin. I appreciated how Butterfield continued to express throughout the pages of her Christian journey the struggle with sin she had and continues to have, and the daily necessity for repentance.
2) the LGBT community sees me as a follower of Christ as a close-minded, bigoted, hate monger who because I know Jesus won't read things out of my comfort zone and attends gay pride marches with "God hates fags" banners. In short: they see me as exclusive, judgmental, scornful, and afraid of diversity. How, through the gospel, can I overcome and show them what being a Christ-follower is really about?
3) As a Christ-follower, I'm often prone to using in-house language and relying on pat answers like "the Bible says." Be a rooted, thinking disciple and throw out the catch phrases and cliches.
4) Work from your strengths and cultivate resilience.
5) Evangelism to the lost must at some point involve worldview engagement.
6) Evangelism should consist of hospitality, gentle opposition, loving people, not peddling the Word.
7) True conversion will involve change of everything (26).
8) The Sin of Sodom was its pride, not first its distorted sexuality. Jesus doesn't want people to be heterosexual sinners. He wants a new creation, new sexuality, centered on His Person and Work.
9) Sanctification is always personal and communal. We need others.
10) Church is not a shopping mall whose existence depends on disseminating the latest, sexiest fads; nor is it a museum where ideas are valued because of tradition alone and where you can look but never touch.
11) I need to develop two kinds of ministry: one to those inside the church to foster fellowship; the other to those outside the church as a ministry of meeting the stranger at the gate.
Favorite quotes: "Christians still scare me when they reduce Christianity to a lifestyle and claim that God is on the side of those who attend to the rules of the lifestyle they have invented or claim to find in the Bible" (5)
"There is a core difference between sharing the gospel with the lost and imposing a specific moral standard on the unconverted" (7)
"Living according to God's standards is an acquired taste" (30)
Passage on sexual sin (83)
Jesus is an equal opportunity Prophet, Priest, and King (107).
We in the church tend to be more fearful of the (perceived) sin in the world than of the sin in our own heart. (115)
There is no greater enemy to vital life-breathing faith than insisting on cultural sameness (115).
We read this for a book club and we all came to the same conclusion. Butterfield was an extreme feminist and converted to an extreme Christian. Ironically becoming the person she despised in the beginning. So no, I didn't rate this book highly.
The other thing that bugged us about this book was that is was less about the secret thoughts she was thinking through each stage of her life but more the well edited and mostly public thoughts (she shares several speeches she gave at the time) which was misleading I felt as the reason I read the book was to find out what she was thinking! So super important, life changing events, like her conversion and her marriage are glossed over and other things (like her devotion to the regulative principle of worship) are belabored to death.
So don't read this unless you want to be beaten over the head with the importance of adoption, home schooling, regulative principle of worship among others. If that interests you - go right ahead.
I'm not ashamed to say that I nearly bawled my eyes out as I finished this book.
I picked up this volume not only because it was under the free download section for prime members on Amazon, but also because it seemed to be recommended by all corners of evangelicosphere.
Honestly, I wasn't expecting much. From first couple of chapters, I saw the transformation of a former feminist/lesbian English professor to Christ-embracing, sinner who was now redeemed. The chapters unpacked the clashing worldviews for Butterfield and how a rejection of her old self and acceptance of Christ meant the utter destruction of her life pillars. From resigning her privileged position as a college professor to faithfully engaging the roles of a pastor's wife, Butterfield exemplified the radical nature of conversion. Throughout the book, it was clear that unlike the neatly fashioned conversion stories whispered into the mic's in the suburban youth ministries of today, a real conversion--one wrecked by an encounter with Christ--changed lives and those around them.
But the story doesn't end there.
Throughout her journey as an adult-convert--to a reformed tradition, mind you--Butterfield documents her growth in the knowledge of her savior. Such development translates into her self-sacrificial outpouring of love towards those that have been traditionally marginalized and outcast (like she had been). It's at this transition in the story that I began to count my breath as I flipped (clicked) through each chapter.
What is truly remarkable about her journey, as well as the tone in which she illustrates her pilgrimage, is that not only had she gone from a tenure-track professor to an adoptive pastor's wife of four kids, but she also managed to fully permeate her worldview with Christ-centeredness that not an ounce of her testimony hinted at self-interest.
In the end I cried and repented because my Christianity was tame; it was benign and not offensive. My conversion was only natural, its results not easily counted. In the closing pages, my heart pounded heavier and heavier as the words pierced my dull soul into recognizing a real-life follower of Christ: one who considered everything a loss compared to knowing Christ.
I concur with Doug Wilson who gave a resounding recommendation for this volume. If you want to read something that will warm and convict your heart, this is the book for you. Secondarily, if you want to see doctrine displayed in the theater of doxology, this book is for you. May this book lead you to your knees and to the Word, as it did for me.
I’ve been wanting to read this book for a long time, and I was finally able to take it up. I’m glad that I did, and I wish that I had read it sooner. With lucidity of thought, fervency of heart, and firmness of conviction, Rosaria Champagne Butterfield recounts her “trainwreck conversion” journey from pride to humility, from imagined autonomy to whole consecration to God.
Bought it for Kindle. What a read. Wish I bought a paper copy because I want to lend it to other people to read!
This suddenly began being all over my little corner of the internet. I was compelled to check it out for myself, and I am so glad.
Her story in the first couple of chapters is sensational; a practicing lesbian and professor of the same becomes a Christian? Her world is rocked and leveled? How can this be?
God is good and reaches people where they are through community to create new community. He uses means. The very Word of God is powerful and reaches in to change hearts. He uses his church to love and support and encourage and surprise. He uses prayer.
The book then looks at what that conversion really meant, how it really plays out, how living a life for Christ with, as she puts it, an "R-rated conversion story" looks. How being a pastors wife is. How parenting is. How homeschooling is. How our conversion story isn't all that we are in Christ. How the community of faith is important in the daily, constant struggle of being true to Christ.
And then a book is written to encourage the community.
She brings a needed correction to the Christian community to open to the orphan (and foster child), widow, outcast, lesbian, gay, broken down, hurting people.
Never was the writing boring. Never was it stilted. In places, where appropriate, it was honest and raw. In places, it was nuanced and gentle.
I've read favorite books in January or February during the last couple of years, and this year is no different. If I could give this six stars (despite some differing ideas), I would.
Less than half of this book is actually about a feminist English professor's journey from a lesbian lifestyle into the Christian faith. That is what I wanted to read about, and what the title and book synopsis promises it will be about. Alas, most of the book is about many and varied subjects such as:
1) Reformed Presbyterian worship practices (they only sing the psalms, a cappella) 2) What a Christian marriage should look like 3) The author's experiences with adoption 4) The author's preferred homeschooling curriculum and why it is so fantastic
Other excruciating fillers that only serve as padding for an otherwise short book:
1) The author's full address to incoming students at the Syracuse college where she taught 2) The full sermon at the author's wedding 3) The author singing an entire psalm on the audio version of the book - very slowly
Her testimony is inspiring and compelling. She makes a convincing argument about how the underlying sin of pride, which led to their sexual sin, was what caused Sodom to be destroyed. Unfortunately right when her story was moving along - she had left her college for a 1-yr sabbatical - all of a sudden she is married (she says nothing about this, other than reading the whole marriage sermon) and starts adopting kids. She never mentions what happened with her teaching career or her former gay friends.
So we're left with not so much "secret thoughts" as with a very impersonal testimony followed by quite a lot of mumbo jumbo that not many people would be interested in (maybe I'm wrong, I'm just speaking for myself and had to force myself to finish the audiobook).
Got a notice of a price reduction on this book. Excited to start this one...
One word refreshing! Now for the longer version, this book is amazing. It is written well. Written with intellect and experience and compassion. Mrs. Butterfield reminds you of what true evangelism, starting with her encounter with the truth. It did NOT start with condenmation, but questions with what she believed and why. We can always believe something to be good and right, but then when you start with the reasons why you believe, you start to see how superficial or shallow our belief is. Mrs. Butterfield's lifestyle at the time was a deep seeded so answering a few questions would not be suffice to change ones lifestyle, however, encountering the source of truth and with a surrender compeltely foreign to her, she had a train wreck with the living God. However, this is only a small part of her conversion. She went thru a whole identity crisis which lead to a faith crisis, which ultimately lead to her good. She speaks of community, being a pastor's wife, a mother of adopted children and homeschooling.
This review first appeared on my blog, Jacob's Café (jacobscafe.blogspot.com).
Rosaria Champagne Butterfield's book, The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert, is almost an understatement. Butterfield's text tells of some of her journey from an activist lesbian English department chair specializing in LGBT studies and publicly critical of the Religious Right to a Christian in a heterosexual marriage homeschooling her children as part of an ultra-conservative denomination. That alone would catch most people's attention, as it did mine.
Right up front, I have to give Butterfield kudos for being willing to share her experiences and "secret thoughts" honestly. She's had quite a life, and if more people were willing to put themselves out there to be honest about their journeys, our world and ability to be spiritually transformed would probably be improved.
Unfortunately, there are major limitations of this book. It is advertised as exploring her conversion experience and "journey into Christian faith." Very little of the book deals with her change of heart and mind. Most of it focuses on her post-conversion development.
With moving from one extreme to another, Butterfield did not really provide any explanation as to what made the change. She just vaguely says that she was convinced of the Christian faith. I also give major kudos to the pastor who walked with her without judgment or pressure. Butterfield explains that this played a major role. But it doesn't really provide an explanation as to why she made such a quick, radical shift to the polar opposite side of the spectrum. If she were able to explore that process, this text could potentially be much more helpful for many individuals who struggle with the many challenging questions she brings up in the book.
Butterfield clearly has very strong critical thinking skills, yet she seems to regularly drop them when explaining her theological convictions. For instance, she defends her Reformed Presbyterian stance of only a capella versions of Psalms (never using movement or dancing) by saying, "I believe God directed us to sing Psalms during worship to the exclusion of man-made hymns" because that's what Jesus sang. Um, how does she know that's what Jesus sang and without instrumentation? Did she forget about David worshipping through dance (also not allowed in her denomination), instruments, and clearly not singing Psalms in group worship, since he wrote many of them?
Her tendency to make large, absolute statements about theological truth without adequate support made her lose credibility to me. She really lost my support when she quoted Jay Adams (for those unfamiliar, he reads the Bible extremely literally and thinks it provides everything we need to know about humanity to the exclusion of anything else, like psychology) as having strong biblical and intellectual legitimacy. I've read plenty of books by people with whom I disagree theologically (and I differ from her on most points), but I can at least follow their line of reasoning. She has some of the best scholarly credentials, but doesn't apply them and actually provides some of the weakest explanations and support of any book I've read.
However, I would give this book two stars to give her credit for putting herself out there, for maintaining and promoting hospitality, diversity, and openness to people who differ from her, and for advocating for adoption (obviously close to my heart). I do have to say that I was quite impressed and even surprised by the ability of her denomination, which I would classify as ultra-fundamentalist, to accept people as they are. If more of these congregations would approach others like Butterfield and her colleagues do, then we would see more conversions and fewer condemnation of Christianity.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
Only the first couple chapters are about her conversion. The majority of the book is about the effects of Christ on her life after her conversion.
It was great to see how God used Butterfield's past experiences to make her a powerful force for good in today's Christian circles. But the title makes this story sound more dramatic than it really is. It's much more than "secret thoughts" or her "conversion." It's about how God transformed her and taught her things. It's got long tangents about education, parenthood and adoption, church worship, etc. It's all connected tangentially, which is good, and it's an enjoyable and insightful read -- but the title could be seen either as an annoying misnomer or a extra helping of blessings in disguise.
I heard about this woman from a co-worker and I really wanted to hear from her perspective. It is a really relevant topic for today. She was a committed lesbian and met a Christian couple who befriended her and introduced her to the Bible and to Jesus.
It's beautiful and fascinating. She went into details about her life as an English professor for queer studies and it really shows how deeply entrenched she was in that lifestyle.
This book is good, but at times not so enjoyable. As Rosaria described her impressions of the Christian right and also some of her experiences with proclaimed Christians I had to cringe. This is such valuable reading and I so appreciate her sharing her journey with us. We can all learn from her story about how pride is the root of so many of our sins and the desperate need we all have to walk the road of repentance. So relevant to our time--highly recommended.
Beautiful and logically written, if sparse on the details. It sidesteps the cheesiness often inherent in these conversion stories and issues several convicting observations about the Christian right and their favored lines. One I'll return to for sure.
This is such a powerful book. It touched on a lot of things I've been thinking out. What sort of Gospel do I have? How can I reach a dying world if I don't have compassion for them? Is Christ really evident in me, that everyone knows He is living IN me? One of my favorite quotes: "We in the church tend to be more fearful of the (perceived) sin in the world than of the sin in our own hearts. When fear rules your theology, God is nowhere to be found in your paradigm, no matter how many verses you tack on to it." p.115
This is a very unusual testimony and a very important book for Christians who want to learn how to break down barriers that hinder them from reaching non-believers.
Rosario Butterfield went from being a professor in Syracuse University’s Women’s Studies Department, an English major specializing in Critical Theory, Secret-thoughts-unlikely-convertparticularly Queer Theory, a practicing lesbian who owned two houses with her partner, a political activist and outspoken advocate for numerous gay and lesbian causes, and a “tenured radical,” to being a Christian, heterosexual, married, mother of multiple adoptees and foster children, and pastor’s wife. Her journey, chronicled in this short 150 page book entitled Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert, is one of the most compelling testimonies I’ve ever read.
There were no fireworks for this “convert.” No fall on your knees, dangling by the fingertips, come to Jesus moments. The terrain that’s traversed here is spiritual, intellectual, and relational. But the author describes it with humor and candor:
“How do I tell you about my conversion to Christianity without making it sound like an alien abduction or a train wreck? Truth be told, it felt like a little of both. The language normally used to describe this odd miracle does not work for me. I didn’t read one of those tacky self-help books with a thin gentle coating of Christian themes, examine my life against the tenets of the Bible the way one might hold up one car insurance policy against all others and cleanly and logically, ‘make a decision for Christ.’ While I did make choices along this journey, they never felt logical, risk-free, or sane. Neither did I feel like the victim of an emotional / spiritual earthquake and collapse gracefully into the arms of my Savior, like a holy and sanctified Scarlett O’Hara having been ‘claimed by Christ’s irresistible grace.’ Heretical as it may seem, Christ and Christianity seemed eminently resistible.”
Perhaps what I liked best about Butterfield’s testimony is its open-endedness. By that I mean, there’s no simple answers as to how she went from one cultural, ideological, spiritual extreme to the other. Except God’s amazing grace. If you’re looking for an evangelistic blueprint, you won’t find it here. Save for the timely orchestration of events (namely, a non-threatening letter from a local pastor that started the ball rolling), the only real “secret” here is the gracious, patient, non-condemning community of saints to which Butterfield was introduced. These relationships with “genuine” Christians turned her preconceptions, and defenses, on their ear. It’s a beautiful glimpse into the simple power of long-term, loving relationships with non-believers.
Furthermore, if you’re looking for an anti-gay tract, this isn’t it. In fact, Butterfield doesn’t flinch in describing the rich relationship she shared inside the gay and lesbian community, and the heartbreak of having to distance herself from it. She broods, knowing that to openly profess Christ will cost her so many cherished relationships, if not her career. Her decision to publicly speak about her transformation while delivering the Graduate Student Orientation Convocation at Syracuse is utterly captivating. (A copy of her address, entitled “What King Solomon Teaches Those in the Wisdom Business: Active Learning and Active Scholarship,” is included in its entirety and, in my opinion, worth the price of the book.) Along the way, Butterfield walks the tightrope between the Christian community and the LGBT community, immersing herself in Scripture while receiving counsel from a transsexual, ex-Christian minister. It’s a fascinating, gritty glimpse into an intersection of unlikely worldviews.
And in case you think the author is simply pitching Christianity or glossing over the Church’s blemishes, she’s not. In fact, she speaks with brutal honesty.
“Christians always seemed like bad thinkers to me. It seemed that they could maintain their worldview only because they were sheltered from the world’s real problems, like the material structures of poverty and violence and racism. Christians always seemed like bad readers to me, too. They appeared to use the Bible in a way that Marxists would call “vulgar” — that is, common, or, in order to bring the Bible into a conversation to stop the conversation, not deepen it. …Their catch phrases were (and are) equally off-putting. ‘Jesus is the answer’ seemed to me then and now like a tree without a root. Answers come after questions, not before. Answers answer questions in specific and pointed ways, not in sweeping generalizations. ‘It’s such a blessing’ always sounds like a violation of the Third Commandment (“Do not take the Lord’s name in vain”) or a Hallmark card drunk with shmaltz. It seemed to me that the only people who could genuinely be satisfied with this level of reading and thinking were people who didn’t really read or think very much — about life or culture or anything.”
In a way, this is a story about how the Church both alienates and reaches those outside its walls. Butterfield’s conversion from a religion she loathed to one she was baptized into, is full of insights — about culture, academic institutions, adoption, home schooling, sexuality, leadership, etc. The story occasionally bogs down as Butterfield expounds upon her growing membership in the Reformed Presbyterian Church. But never do you get the feel that she’s proselytizing. Or insincere.
Interestingly enough, those on both sides of the aisle have taken some issue with this book. On the one hand are evangelicals who believe Butterfield does not distance herself enough from the LGBT community. On the other sides are those who dispute her conversion as a legitimate “reverse conversion” story. I find these responses fascinating. Butterfield does not make herself out to be (in her own words) “a poster child for gay conversion.” Instead, she speaks about “sexual sin,” pointing out that her struggle to overcome it is no different from anyone else’s.
This short book left me with many questions, but ultimately inspired me to remember that God is still at work, even among those we think the most lost. I highly recommend this book!
This was a frustrating book to try to rate. I found myself agreeing with her in one sentence, and disagreeing in the very next one - and then repeated that throughout the whole book.
Due to the title, I expected the bulk of this book to focus on her wrestling with the Christian faith pre-conversion (similar to how Nabeel Qureshi wrote his memoir Seeking Allah, Finding Jesus: A Devout Muslim Encounters Christianity), but she spends just a couple chapters quickly wrapping up this part of her life.
She then jumps into defending her fringy, very Reformed (Calvinistic) denomination, and attacking other Christians who don't believe what she believes, then complains that these Christians are not humble and kind enough to embrace others who disagree with them on issues.
Her writing was drenched in pride masking as humility.
Even though I felt like getting into the adoptions of her children didn't fit with the supposed theme of the book, I'm interested in foster care and adoption, so thought this part would still be worth reading. I was very turned off to hear her not-so-secret thoughts of teenage birth parents:
"[My husband and I] were surprised and horrified to learn that even Christian crisis pregnancy centers encourage teenagers to try to parent their children rather than consider the adoption alternative." (p 119) Butterfield then goes on to essentially say that all these children will end up in foster care because their parents are sinners.
Some of her "Christian" jargon also turned me off a bit. I'm a Christian, but I don't use (and have never before heard used) terms like "covenant homes" when referring to a nuclear family comprised of Christian parents. Other parts of her language were very "intellectual" for lack of a better term. I get that she's a super-smart English professor, but it came across as pretentious.
Having said all that, there was some good here!
Certainly, her call to Christians to treat those in the LGBTQ community with more love is needed! Even her desire to show hospitality to others is something that should be present in the Christian church, but is all too often lacking.
I appreciated her thoughts on sexual sin, and how homosexuality is not "worse" than other sexual sins:
"To a good Christian, sex is God's recreation for you as long as you play in God's playground (marriage). No way, Jose. Not on God's terms. What good Christians don't realize is that sexual sin is not recreational sex gone overboard. Sexual sin is predatory. It won't be "healed" by redeeming the context or the genders. Sexual sin must simply be killed. What is left of your sexuality after this annihilation is up to God. But healing, to the sexual sinner, is death: nothing more and nothing less.... too many Christian fornicators plan that marriage will redeem their sin.... Christian masturbators plan that marriage will redeem their patterns.... Christian internet pornographers think that having legitimate sex will take away the desire to have illicit sex. They're wrong.... Christians act as though marriage redeems sin. Marriage does not redeem sin. Only Jesus himself can do that." p 83 (emphasis mine)
Another thought on marriage:
"I've come to note that normally moderate non-pretentious Christians tend towards extreme emotional excess in the areas of weddings and baby showers. This particular weakness had not been mine to witness until I became the subject of this attention. I found this kind of attention uncomfortable and annoying. It seemed as though people that I thought were my friends saw me as suddenly more legitimate now that I was going to join the club of the married." p 53
I also liked this quote:
"We develop a taste for God's standards only by disciplining our minds, hands, money, and time. In God's economy, what we love we will discipline." p 30
So, there was good and bad here. It is a memoir, and at the end of the day, I have to remind myself that memoirs are by definition one person's thoughts about their own experiences and beliefs, so naturally they are highly subjective.
I wouldn't necessarily recommend this to others, but I also wouldn't attempt to dissuade anyone from reading it.
Wow. That sums up this book in one word. Just wow.
This might be one of the best books I have ever read.
Not only is Rosaria's story of her conversion simply amazing it is untypical. She reminds me distinctly of two different people from history. The first being Paul. He hated Christians and persecuted them until one day Jesus knocked him over and changed his entire life. The second being CS Lewis. A thinker. A studier. Someone who is not just satisfied with what they are told, they go out and find out for themselves. They ask questions and get answers they weren't expecting, but because they are so logical and smart, they can't ignore the evidence.
CS is one of my favorite authors because of his logic. I tend to think very deeply as well and ask a lot of questions and when the answers just make sense its almost like I can breathe a sigh of relief, even if the answer wasn't what I was suspecting in the first place. Rosaria's writing is pretty much exactly the same. She is ridiculously smart and her sentences are so well constructed that sometimes I would read them two or three times. Half of the time because I didn't understand it, and the other time because the words are put together so beautifully, I needed to go back and appreciate that sentence again!
The subject of Rosaria's conversion is undoubtedly controversial. The life she led prior to her conversion is not an atypical life. It is a life that even Christians these days are beginning to compromise on. Her story of redemption however is powerful. Her description of how her life was a complete and utter mess after her conversion is, in my opinion, refreshing. So often we hear the watered down version of "accept Jesus and its all rainbows and butterflies afterward." That is a boldface lie and we as Christians are responsible. This is why Roasaria's story is so refreshing! It's REAL. It's not watered down, its messy, confusing and concerning.
It sheds light however on areas that we as Christians really need to work on. What we are called to do, how we are to act and support and love others who are going through similar things as Roasaria did. This book really made me think and is sticking with me. It will probably be one that I re-read on a yearly basis. Praise God for this amazing lady who is being used powerfully by the kingdom. She is a true blessing.
This book testifies to the dangerous nature of a life given to Christ. Rosaria Butterfield's relation of her experience of being drawn to belief in the saving work of Christ by no desire or will of her own, and the subsequent upheaval and destruction it brought to all she had built in her life, is revealing. It reveals the all-encompassing nature of a life lived in obedience to Christ and His word. It reveals the pride of many Christians in how we relate to those outside the church. It reveals the power of God's word to change a heart. It will leave you thinking of how you can change the way you relate to people, how you can make a better effort to really see and know people, and how you can open yourself to all the work that the Lord has for you.
The three star rating is mostly because it did seem like Butterfield was distracted in places. She takes what amounts to a long look in such a short book at the Regulative Principle of Worship. This seems like a sidetrack and doesn't really cover the topic well enough for the reader to form an opinion about it if they do not already have one. Also, the use of only first letters to refer to many different people in the book is tiresome. If you aren't going to use real names, just give them fake ones, it would be less distracting and easier to keep track of.
I've rarely been so gripped by a book. Rosaria's command of English kept my attention at the beginning (that actually seemed to wane at the end--was it her hectic life or a tired editor?) My favorite part was the friendship of the 70 yr old pastor, and how he showed her Jesus for 2 yrs before inviting her to church, which is usually the first thing evangelists do, not the last thing. I responded to reading about that simplicity and beauty and Jesus-likeness by underlining, highlighting, and grunting in agreement by turns.
Rosaria, for all her intellectual and linguistic prowess, holds to a very old-fashioned, uncool theology, which is another reason I admire her. She shoots straight, and holds no punches when talking about other Christians, which made me wince a little, but I got her point. I'm sorry that she got laughed at for holding to psalm-singing, but I do differ with her conviction there.
The last chapter made me cry. The end of the book seemed more loosely written, not as tight and eloquent as the first part, but oh, the pathos and the care that seeps from the pages. I cried when the electively mute boy began talking. The same kind of love that thawed Rosaria's heart much earlier is what she now pours into other hearts, and gives life. Jesus is like that. This book confirms that.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.