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Review: The Secret Thoughts of An Unlikely Convert

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!

{ 8 comments… add one }
  • Carradee March 29, 2013, 5:52 AM

    Thanks! I remember someone recommending this at church, but I couldn’t remember the title.

    *goes searching for the EPUB version*

  • J.S. Clark March 29, 2013, 6:20 AM

    I’ll have to read this. I’ve been finding more and more that debate just never convinces anyone of anything. All it does it bolster those who are already on your side. Which has a place, but to really reach people, it seems the only weapon is the Spirit. God moving through people in His way is the only way that moves anyone from one hard entrenched position to another.

    Even my own faith, I can’t say I have it because of some evidence that I can use on someone else. It’s only enough for me. Only the Spirit keeps me in the faith, and only the Spirit can change someone’s heart. Of course we have to be faithful witnesses, but . . . its not our job to seal the deal. Just be Messiah to the world, that is the only weapon you have.

  • Gray Rinehart March 29, 2013, 8:31 AM

    Very interesting. Not sure I can fit it in with all the other reading I have to do — [sidelong glance at stack of unread books from the 2011 World Fantasy Convention] — but it sounds as if it would be worthwhile.

    Thanks,
    G

  • sally apokedak March 29, 2013, 8:34 AM

    Wow! Sounds like an interesting book.

    >>>>
    Instead, she speaks about “sexual sin,” pointing out that her struggle to overcome it is no different from anyone else’s.
    <<<<<

    Exactly.

    This is why people think I, and other Christians beat the homosexuals up more than the gluttons. They think we like one sin better than another. Not so. We simply want to call sin, sin rather than calling it normal and good.

    When my son loses his temper with me, I don't say, "It's OK. It's not really sin. We all lose our tempers sometimes. It's normal. God made you this way." No, I say, "You sinned. I forgive you and I love you anyway."

    If he maintains that losing his temper is not sin, our relationship will be broken. I will still love him. But I won't be in communion with him.

    Sexual sin is sin, even though all people engage in it to some extent. It is not normal and God didn't make us this way. And as long as sexual sinners say they are not sinning, there can be no communion between the sinner and the church–the relationship is broken.

  • Jill March 29, 2013, 12:23 PM

    It doesn’t surprise me that a professor would expect deep thinking from your average Christian, but it’s an expectation that isn’t likely to be met. Surely, she doesn’t/didn’t have higher expectations of Christians than of the general population. Christ can and does meet people who have no thinking skills at all. I’m only responding to that portion because it’s a problem I’ve had. I’ve been very frustrated with not understanding why your average person has no ability to deeply think about or analyze anything. I’m not being a snob when I say that; I’m just being honest.

    This is a really good review, Mike. I’d like to read the book for a more complete perspective. Thanks for posting.

  • Bob Avey March 30, 2013, 3:36 PM

    Sounds like an amazing story.

  • Rebekah Loper March 31, 2013, 1:11 PM

    Thanks for posting this review! I’ve had this book on my to-read list for a few months now, and will be moving it closer to the top for sure!

  • Loretta Miller June 16, 2013, 8:36 AM

    Rosario taught my Women’s Studies class at The Ohio State University in the late 1980’s. She was very hateful toward men and was extremely liberal. I often wondered what happened in her life that led to her hating men like she did. I know many students in the class that wrote several pages of negative comments about the class but OSU (and most other colleges) continue to teach these messages.
    I am thankful that she has found Christ and I pray that her testimony can help others who are trapped in that lifestyle and help to wake up America.

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