The Story of Rosaria Butterfield
(and why it matters for us today)
If you had met Rosaria Butterfield in the 1990s, the idea of her becoming a Christian would have sounded absurd.
She was a tenured English professor at Syracuse University, a specialist in queer theory, a committed Marxist feminist, and a vocal critic of Christianity. She saw the Bible as a tool of oppression and the Christian Right as a threat to everything she cared about.
Then a simple letter—and a long series of dinners—changed everything.
This is Rosaria’s story, and why it still speaks powerfully into our polarized, suspicious world today.
Life Before Christ: Identity, Activism, and Academia
Rosaria Butterfield was not casually secular; she was deeply invested in a worldview that saw Christianity as part of the problem.
- She taught women’s studies and English at Syracuse.
- Her research focused on queer theory and critical theory.
- She was in a same-sex relationship and active in the LGBTQ+ community.
- She viewed the Christian Right as a dangerous political enemy.
When Promise Keepers and other evangelical movements gained visibility, Rosaria decided to write a critical article about the “religious right” for a major newspaper. That project pushed her to read the Bible—not as a believer, but as a critic preparing to dismantle it.
She expected to confirm what she already believed: that Christianity was intellectually flimsy and morally harmful.
Instead, she found something harder to dismiss.
The Letter That Didn’t Fit the Script
When her newspaper piece on the Christian Right was published, Rosaria received a flood of responses. Most letters could be sorted easily:
- Fan mail: “You’re so brave; Christians are awful.”
- Hate mail: “You’re going to hell; you’re the problem.”
She had two piles on her desk—one for each category.
Then she got a letter from a local Reformed Presbyterian pastor, Ken Smith.
His letter didn’t fit either category.
- It was kind, but not flattering.
- It was challenging, but not rude.
- It asked genuine questions instead of just making accusations.
He invited her to dinner—not to a debate, not to church, but to his home, to eat with him and his wife, Floyd.
That simple invitation changed the trajectory of her life.
Hospitality, Not a Hit-and-Run Gospel
Rosaria went to dinner expecting an argument. Instead, she found:
- A warm welcome into the Smiths’ home.
- Real conversation, not a pre-scripted evangelistic pitch.
- A willingness to listen to her story, her convictions, and her questions.
- Christians who were neither flustered by her lifestyle nor dismissive of her intellect.
She kept going back. Week after week. For two years, the Smiths:
- Fed her at their table.
- Answered questions without panic.
- Opened the Bible and read it with her.
- Prayed for her and cared for her as a friend, not a project.
Rosaria later called this approach “radically ordinary hospitality.” It was not glamorous. It was not a one-night event. It was patient, inconvenient, and real.
Through that relationship, the Bible moved, in her words, from “an enemy’s book” to something she could not easily ignore.
The Bible That Wouldn’t Stay on the Shelf
As Rosaria read Scripture, something unsettling happened: the Bible started to read her.
She approached it as a scholar—analyzing language, structure, and narrative. But she kept bumping into places where the Bible:
- Exposed her pride and self-justification.
- Challenged her views on identity, love, and freedom.
- Presented Jesus not as a mascot for a political camp, but as a living, intrusive Lord.
She came to a crisis point:
- She liked her life: her partner, her community, her career, her reputation.
- She disliked the idea of Christianity, with all its moral and social implications.
- But she could no longer honestly say the Bible was simply nonsense or harmless myth.
The deeper problem was this: the Bible claimed authority over her life in ways she did not want to accept. It named sins she did not want to call sin. It insisted that her identity was not primarily in sexuality, intellect, or activism—but in being made by and for God.
And worst of all, from her perspective: it started to seem true.
“I Lost Everything but the Dog”
Rosaria did not drift into faith. She felt dragged, intellectually and morally, to a decision she did not want to make.
When she finally yielded to Christ, it felt like a kind of death.
- She lost her romantic relationship.
- She risked and then lost her standing in academic circles.
- She stepped away from the path she had built for years.
- She was seen by many former friends as a traitor.
She has described it with dark humor: “I lost everything but the dog.”
Her conversion was not a conservative talking point; it was, by her own account, traumatic. She didn’t come because Christianity promised an easier life. She came because she became convinced that:
- The Bible is true.
- Jesus is Lord, not advisor.
- The cost, however high, was worth it.
She was baptized, joined a small Reformed Presbyterian church, and began a new life she had never imagined.
Life After Conversion: A New Identity and a New Mission
Rosaria eventually married a Reformed Presbyterian pastor, Kent Butterfield. They built a home that looks a lot like the one that first welcomed her:
- Regular, open hospitality to neighbors, students, church members, and strangers.
- A life where meals, conversations, and shared burdens are central.
- A willingness to walk with people long-term, not just “share the gospel and move on.”
She has written several books about her conversion and Christian life, notably:
- The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert – her memoir of coming to Christ.
- The Gospel Comes with a House Key – on “radically ordinary hospitality” as a way of life.
- Later books reflecting on identity, repentance, and obedience.
She remains intellectually serious, candid about her past, and often controversial—sometimes challenged by both secular critics and Christians. But her core message remains the same:
Jesus is Lord of all of life, and His grace is deep enough to reach anyone—no matter how unlikely.
Why Rosaria’s Story Matters to Us Today
Rosaria’s journey is unique, but the themes running through it touch issues all of us face: identity, hospitality, truth, and cost. Her story matters in at least four big ways.
1. She Shatters Easy Stereotypes—On Both Sides
Rosaria used to see Christians as:
- Anti-intellectual
- Bigoted
- Afraid of hard questions
Many Christians, in turn, often see people like Rosaria—academics, activists, LGBTQ+ leaders—as:
- Hopelessly hardened
- Enemies to defeat, not neighbors to love
- Beyond the reach of God’s grace
Her story blows up both caricatures.
- She discovered Christians who could think, read, and reason without panic.
- Those Christians discovered that a radical feminist professor could be honest, thoughtful, and open to truth.
This matters because our culture is increasingly tribal. We assume “people like that” will never change. Rosaria’s life is a living contradiction of that assumption.
Implication for us:
Stop writing people off. The gospel is not limited by our categories of “likely” and “unlikely.”
2. She Shows the Power of “Boring” Christian Faithfulness
There was no viral clip, no stadium event, no dramatic altar call in Rosaria’s conversion.
There was:
- A pastor’s thoughtful letter.
- A couple’s open home.
- Hundreds of shared meals, conversations, and prayers.
- A church that quietly welcomed her, warts and all.
In an age obsessed with platform, strategy, and “impact,” her story is a reminder that:
Ordinary obedience—especially in the form of consistent, sacrificial hospitality—can be used by God to do extraordinary things.
Implication for us:
- You don’t need to be famous to make an eternal difference.
- You do need to open your life: your dinner table, your schedule, your attention.
- Evangelism is often more like farming than fireworks—slow, patient, and relational.
3. She Forces Us to Face the Question of Identity
Our culture increasingly answers the question “Who am I?” with:
- My sexual orientation or gender identity
- My political tribe
- My career, intellect, or achievements
Rosaria had a strong sense of self rooted in her sexuality, scholarship, and activism. Turning to Christ meant letting all of that be de-centered.
Christianity did not erase her experiences or her mind. But it insisted:
- Her primary identity is as a sinner saved by grace, a child of God.
- No desire, relationship, or achievement gets to define her more deeply than Jesus does.
This is not just about sexuality. It’s about all of us who cling to identity markers—success, status, nationalism, even “being a good person”—as if they were ultimate.
Implication for us:
- Following Christ will confront every identity we build apart from Him.
- The call is the same for all: Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me.
- That sounds like loss—but on the other side of that surrender is a more solid, lasting identity than any we can construct.
4. She Demonstrates That Grace Is Costly—and Still Worth It
Rosaria did not “add Jesus” onto an otherwise unchanged life. Her conversion was costly:
- She lost a partner she loved.
- She lost a community that had supported her.
- She stepped into a church that sometimes struggled to understand her.
In modern Western Christianity, we are often tempted to sell Jesus as an upgrade: better feelings, better morals, better community. Rosaria’s story says:
Grace is free—but it is not cheap. It calls you to die to self.
And yet, she testifies that what she received in Christ is infinitely greater than what she lost:
- Forgiveness she could not earn.
- A Savior who knows her fully and loves her still.
- A family and purpose that endure beyond any cultural moment.
Implication for us:
- If we are fencing off parts of our life and saying, “Jesus can have everything but this,” we have not yet understood His lordship.
- The path of obedience may feel like loss, but it leads to life.
How We Can Respond to Her Story
Rosaria’s story is not a script for everyone to follow. But it does invite all of us—believers and skeptics—to take specific steps.
If You’re a Skeptic or Feel Far from Christianity
- Give the Bible a serious reading. Not just as a cultural artifact, but as something that might actually claim authority over you.
- Find Christians you can talk to honestly. Look for those who can listen without flinching and think without attacking.
- Ask yourself:
- Where is my sense of identity rooted?
- Does my worldview really explain my deepest convictions about love, justice, and meaning?
- If Christianity turned out to be true, would I be willing to follow Christ, even at a cost?
You don’t have to pretend your questions aren’t real. But you also don’t have to assume the answers you’ve always heard about Christianity are the final word.
If You’re a Christian
- Open your home. You don’t need a perfect house or gourmet meals. You need a table, some chairs, and a willingness to welcome people whose lives are different from yours.
- Prioritize long-term relationships. Don’t treat people as projects. Be their friend whether or not they ever believe what you believe.
- Know your faith well enough to answer—or admit you don’t know yet. Anti-intellectualism hurts people like Rosaria, who need honest, thoughtful engagement.
- Examine your own identity. Are you finding your deepest “self” in Christ—or in politics, moral superiority, or cultural respectability?
In a world of suspicion and soundbites, you can be what Pastor Ken and Floyd were for Rosaria: a steady, loving, truthful presence.
If You’re Caught in the Middle
Maybe you’re:
- In church, but unsure you believe.
- Sympathetic to Christianity, but afraid of what it might cost.
- Afraid that turning to Christ means losing your community, your reputation, or your sense of self.
Rosaria understands that fear more than most.
Her story doesn’t promise an easy road. But it does suggest this: you can trust Jesus with the cost. He is not merely calling you away from something; He is calling you to Himself.
You can pray, even in your uncertainty:
“God, if You are real, and if Jesus is Lord, make that clear to me—and give me the courage to follow, whatever it costs.”
Rosaria Butterfield’s life is proof that:
- No one is beyond the reach of God’s grace.
- Ordinary hospitality can become holy ground.
- The call to die to self is not the end of joy, but the doorway into it.
In an age of hardened lines and suspicious hearts, her story is a living invitation—for skeptics to consider Christ, and for Christians to live like they really believe He changes people.
