A formerly practicing homosexual professor admits: “I used my post to advance the understandable allegiances of a leftist lesbian professor.” Then she read her Bible.
It began when she was working on a research project about conservative Christians and their views on homosexuality. She received a letter from a Reformed Presbyterian minister:
Ken Smith encouraged me to explore the kind of questions I admire: How did you arrive at your interpretations? How do you know you are right? Do you believe in God? Ken didn’t argue with my article; rather, he asked me to defend the presuppositions that undergirded it. I didn’t know how to respond to it, so I threw it away.
Later that night, I fished it out of the recycling bin and put it back on my desk, where it stared at me for a week, confronting me with the worldview divide that demanded a response. As a postmodern intellectual, I operated from a historical materialist worldview, but Christianity is a supernatural worldview. Ken’s letter punctured the integrity of my research project without him knowing it.
It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t what she was looking for. But she had the honesty to examine those presuppositions.
If you have grown up in a world that uses the Bible as a reference point, it can be difficult to recognize what an earth-shattering explosion it can be to somebody else’s worldview to learn that there is a Creator God, and then to consider that if He is truly THE Creator, what that would mean in your life. To truly understand, as for the first time, the ramifications of a God Who Made You from nothing, who is There, Who is Real, and who has claims on His Creation that you’ve never even imagined or considered- well, it changes everything.
I fought with everything I had.
I did not want this.
I did not ask for this.
I counted the costs. And I did not like the math on the other side of the equal sign.
But God’s promises rolled in like sets of waves into my world. One Lord’s Day, Ken preached on John 7:17: “If anyone wills to do [God’s] will, he shall know concerning the doctrine” (NKJV). This verse exposed the quicksand in which my feet were stuck. I was a thinker. I was paid to read books and write about them. I expected that in all areas of life, understanding came before obedience. And I wanted God to show me, on my terms, why homosexuality was a sin. I wanted to be the judge, not one being judged.
But the verse promised understanding after obedience. I wrestled with the question: Did I really want to understand homosexuality from God’s point of view, or did I just want to argue with him? I prayed that night that God would give me the willingness to obey before I understood. I prayed long into the unfolding of day. When I looked in the mirror, I looked the same. But when I looked into my heart through the lens of the Bible, I wondered, Am I a lesbian, or has this all been a case of mistaken identity? If Jesus could split the world asunder, divide marrow from soul, could he make my true identity prevail? Who am I? Who will God have me to be?
Many professing Christians are in the same position she was once in- they want to be the judge, not the judged. We reveal this in ourselves every time we respond to an issue, no matter how small, by beginning with ourselves and our own frame of reference. “Well, I just don’t believe God would…” “I don’t think it’s a big deal if….” “I just don’t feel like it’s wrong to….”
If we truly understand the “Omni” parts of having a Creator God, we would know we must always begin with “What does God say?” and not how we feel or what *we* think.
Be sure to read the whole article at the link. It’s quite impressive. There’s also a long interview with her here, conducted by Marvin Olasky (editor of World Magazine, author of The Tragedy of American Compassion, Abortion Rites: A Social History of Abortion in America, and others ). I haven’t watched it because of the time, but it looks interesting.
Rosaria Butterfield’s book is available at Amazon:
The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert