Radical Reinvention: An Unlikely Return to the Catholic Church

by Kaya Oakes

As someone who clocked more time in mosh pits and at pro-choice rallies than kneeling in a pew, Kaya Oakes was not necessarily the kind of Catholic girl the Vatican was after. But even while she immersed herself in the punk rock scene and proudly called herself an atheist, something kept pulling her back to the religion of her Irish roots.

After running away from the Church for thirty years, Kaya decides to return. Her marriage is under stress, her job is no longer satisfying, and with multiple deaths in her family, a darkness looms large. In spite of her frustration with Catholic conservatism, nothing brings her peace like Mass. After years of searching to no avail for a better religious fit, she realizes that the only way to find harmony—in her faith and her personal life—is to confront the Church she’d left behind.

Rebellious and hypercritical, Kaya relearns the catechisms and achieves the sacraments, all while trying to reconcile her liberal beliefs with contemporary Church philosophy. Along the way she meets a group of feisty feminist nuns, a “pray-and-bitch” circle, an all-too handsome Italian priest, and a motley crew of misfits doing their best to find their voices in an outdated institution.

This is a story of transformation, not only of Kaya’s from ex-Catholic to amateur theologian, but ultimately of the cultural and ethical pushes for change that are rocking the world’s largest religion to its core.

Genres: Memoir, Religion, Nonfiction, Spirituality, Christianity, Catholic, Biography Memoir

256 pages, Paperback

First published June 8, 2012

About the author

Kaya Oakes is the author of six books, most recently including The Defiant Middle, The Nones Are Alright, and Radical Reinvention. Her sixth book, Not So Sorry, is forthcoming in 2024. Her essays and journalism have appeared in Slate, The New Republic, Foreign Policy, America, Commonweal, Religion News Service, National Catholic Reporter, and many other places. She was born and raised in Oakland, California, where she still lives, and she teaches nonfiction writing at UC Berkeley.

Reviews

[Kathleen · Rating 3 out of 5]

First off, there are (at least) two errors in this book with regard to Catholic doctrine/rules.

1) Just because you're marrying a Catholic, you don't have to convert. You didn't even have to do so 65 years ago when my in-laws got married, so I don't know where Oakes got this.

2) Deacons can baptize babies. Heck, mothers can baptize babies.

There are probably more errors, but I didn't read this as a fact-checker -- and it's too bad this book's publisher apparently didn't employ one.

Kaya Oakes can write, and this memoir improves as it goes on. It gets better when she focuses less on silly things like how many tattooed classmates she has in her RCIA (training to become Catholic) classes and more on her actual faith. Her descriptions of going on spiritual retreats and talking to a variety of priests about her faith and her concerns is very spot-on. She captures the struggles well.

At the same time, she is someone whose left-wing politics define her, and she is vehemently pro-gay marriage and pro-birth-control. Which is going to be a problem, if you are at all aware of church teaching. At the same time, it's not as much of a problem as she seems to think -- there are all kinds of Catholics. Among my Facebook friends (who end up getting this review) I have gay Catholics, Catholics who wear head coverings to Mass and Catholics who describe themselves as "Traditional Catholics" and attend Mass in Latin. People with apparently well-formed consciences can and do have disagreements when it comes to how to practice Catholicism.

That said, I wish she would have spend more time talking to everyday, normal Catholics who are more conservative than her instead of reading nastiness in the conservative Catholic blogosphere.

The problem with talking to real people, however, is that they might (heaven forbid!) force some introspection. This book has plenty of introspection about many things -- but Oakes has definite blind spots, areas where she is not willing to entertain the idea that she might be wrong. And, in that sense, she has a lot in common with the nasty right-wingers.

[Fanny · Rating 5 out of 5]

A heartbreaking work of heartfelt, hilarious, feminist, inclusionary genius. Full disclosure: Kaya is my friend, and I even make a very brief appearance (under a different name) in the book. But here's some even fuller disclosure: I'm a black-hearted little agnostic punk, totally comfortable with my rejection of my own childhood faith (conservative Judaism), yet still I was moved and inspired by Radical Reinvention. Its primary message isn't actually about Catholicism, Christianity, or, really, religion. It's a must-read for anyone who has ever yearned for belonging and strength and purpose, despite being, well, a black-hearted little punk. If you're a cynic or a progressive or a feminist or any combination of the three, and you've ever wondered how "otherwise sensible people" can get mixed up with a Judeo-Christian God and/or with organized religion, Radical Reinvention will clear up the mystery with heart and humor and brave honesty and LOTS of swearing. It made me want to hang out with nuns and be a better person; and it made me realize that self-acceptance and finding a tribe are both crucial, and should be pursued relentlessly, and, if need be, in all the "wrong" places. Oh, and Kaya's trip to Italy is a whole lot more meaningful than Elizabeth Gilbert's.

[Gabriel · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am in the midst of my own return of sorts to the church. It's neither the church of my youth, nor the Catholic church to which Kaya is returning, but having the story of someone else's process of re-entering the world of communal faith made me feel as though I had a compatriot on my own journey. As I work out my own calling and my place in both the congregation and the greater church, being able to share in Kaya's story gave me both comfort and inspiration.

[Ellery · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you are searching for spirituality, but want one that can encompass St. Francis, women's rights, volunteering at soup kitchens and continuing to use f-bombs when life demands it, AND secretly want to be Catholic again after leaving because you thought staying was uncool (and the Popes have made you crazy since the early '80's....) Kaya Oakes gives you permission to return, in a very well-written, informative book that isn't devoid of some real fucking funny shit.

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

This personal narrative of the author's return to the Catholic Church and her spiritual journey was encouraging to me. It was nice to read from the point of view of someone who wants to be Catholic but who is also a feminist who is for female priests, for marriage equality, and for access to birth control. I want to be this woman's friend.

[Sara Gerot · Rating 5 out of 5]

While it isn't news to me that there are some really progressive members, and clergy in the Catholic church, I know that it would be to many . . . I really enjoyed this personal spiritual journey. What I think I related to the most was constantly being drawn (or called) to participate in worship. That even the fear of how she must look, or how it must seem, she still went. And her faith is so active. So studious. Even though I get that she really had an affinity for activism, I think that hers is story of an intellectual path. This book felt warm. Welcoming.

[Carmen · Rating 3 out of 5]

This memoir about a Bay-Area writer's return to her religion is interesting, and strangely enough, brave, but for seemingly wrong reasons. Throughout the book, Oakes is constantly defending her journey of faith to her so-described progressive, punk, alterna-brethren, who seem to come off as less tolerant of diversity than the supposedly close-minded church-going folk she's supposed to be criticizing. It's almost as if reading the diary of a guilty soul who constantly needs to explain herself, or a middle school girl who is nervous of being kicked out of the cool clique because she's caught reading Nancy Drew instead of L8r, g8r. There are some excellent parts, such as when she discusses finding God in community, collaboration, and in each other, or when exploring the nature of Wisdom, and, most of all, when discovering the connection between everyday life and the divine - particularly during her trip to Assisi. However, since it is such a personal story that consists of a lot of bitterness, defensiveness, and distrust, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pity for the fact that she seems so spiritually constrained by the same community she calls her own.

[Abbey · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was so thoughtful, tentative, cautious, skeptical, and yet somehow optimistic and hopeful. After nearly 15 years outside of religion (and in the punk scene), Oakes decided to return to back to the church where she was baptized. I really appreciated the descriptions of her RCIA journey, spiritual direction with the Jesuits, and her trip to Rome. Homegirl rejects indoctrination and really seeks to find her own personal connection with the 'divine' - described as relational energy.

This is truly the first book I've ever read of this kind - a feminist trying to re-build within a broken institution instead of just deconstructing and peacing out. It's about so much more than religion - it's truly a story of belonging, home, and purpose. As someone who has rejected the Catholic label (for probably forever), I still really really enjoyed it.

[Kaya · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wrote this book and people say really strange and sometimes nice things about it even though it came out almost ten years ago. You know when you find something you wrote ten years ago and think, wow, that person was obnoxious but also kind of funny sometimes and just trying to find her spiritual path? That's how I feel about this book.

[Mary · Rating 5 out of 5]

An honest, achingly real voice that made me laugh out loud. This book was more than entertaining and interesting as the author's personal journey back to the Catholic church. It was about cutting through centuries of BS to get back to the heart of what the church is really about. Loved this book!

[Kevin · Rating 4 out of 5]

This midwestern Jew boy thought this memoir about rediscovering faith yet fundamentally disagree with the institutions that claim to guard and foster it by a California Catholic girl was really damn good.

[Dorothea · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kaya Oakes is an award-winning poet (Telegraph), author of Slanted and Enchanted The Evolution of Indie Culture and teaches writing at the University of California, Berkeley. She was the co-founder of Kitchen Sink magazine ---a hip, feminist publication that ran from 2002 – 2007 which featured saucy essays, interviews, reviews and noodlings on media, art, and culture.

In her latest book, Radical Reinvention An Unlikely Return to the Catholic Church, Oakes chronicles how a punk rock-loving, third wave feminist finds a spiritual home in a monolithic institution whose politics she opposes.

Oakes grew up in Oakland, California, where she bounced back and forth between Catholic and public schools. Her adolescent perception of the Catholic Church --- formed while doing a lot of eye-rolling --- was shaped by humorless nuns, the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar, and the Church services her family attended which featured Vatican II reforms such as, “folk Mass,” liturgical dance, and occasional "reflections" by female parishioners.

As a preteen she viewed the Church as “clunky and dorky,” but secretly enjoyed the late night Masses served in candlelight. When she was a senior in high school, Oakes took a trip to Spain with her classmates. In Ávila, surrounded by medieval churches and baroque cathedrals, the only thing Oakes felt about her Catholic heritage was shame.

After high school, Oakes pursued creative writing and steeped herself in indie culture and leftist politics. Suffering from a “generational propensity for snark and cynicism” Oakes assumed that she was an atheist. But when she busted herself praying and making the sign of the cross whenever she saw a dead animal on the side of the road, she began to question her unbelief and realized she’d been faking atheism.

Oakes starting sneaking into Catholic Mass services where she found a measure of peace she couldn’t find anywhere else. When she finally confessed to her shrink that she believes in “The Catholic God” she felt like she had just blurted out that she believes in leprechauns.

Tired of pretending she doesn’t believe in God, Oakes decides to fully confront the Church she left behind. She begins attending weekly catechism meetings at a liberal-leaning parish, gets confirmed, grits her teeth at the Vatican, hashes out her issues with Jesus, re-discovers some kick-ass women saints to pray to, helps her church feed the homeless, meets a group of progressive lesbians and ex-nuns who are fighting the Church from within, joins their “pray and bitch” group, researches original Hebrew texts, cracks open the essence of the gospel, is asked to give gospel reflections in the Church, becomes a budding theologian, and fights for LGBTQ rights, reproductive freedom, and radical inclusion.

[Trish · Rating 5 out of 5]

I know Kaya slightly from work, and my friend also at work (Stefanie Kalem) recommended this book so highly that I had to read it. She's got taste, y'all. See what she reads and recommends and read them.

Interesting and intelligent people who write about mystical things like the soul and religion make my life a lot better because I get to share the exploration of those mysteries that live within us - the contradictions of logic and spirit, the wrestling with God (or is it really ourselves), etc. etc. I grew up in surrounded by horribly righteous Baptists in the American South, and have loathed the blindness and prejudice with which many/most people who belong to a group (religious or not)tend to operate. Seriously, these Baptists had wars over who could build the biggest church in the SAME TOWN. And they belonged to the SAME BRANCH. Not even differences over doctrine. Over who was the "best." Jesus Christ.

Personal experiences with Buddhism and other studies have led me into weird and wonderful places around having spiritual and even somewhat mystical experiences and trying to understand them in the context of being atheist/agnostic and fiercely aware of damage caused by accepting anything even slightly dogmatic without questioning. I didn't even go to an acting school that taught a particular method (and God forbid, THE Method). But traditions that encourage questioning and debate and transparency around all the issues we face when coming to the unexplainable - like death, for instance - I go for. And I love that Kaya finds a place to find joy her deeply felt faith in an notoriously closed and intolerant religion such as Catholicism and is able to write fully, humorously and intelligently about it.

Kudos and I want to read more of everything she does.

[Andrea Mullarkey · Rating 3 out of 5]

Radical Reinvention is a memoir by a Bay Area practicing Catholic with some pretty non-traditional ideas about the church so, yeah, more than one person thought I should read it. Oakes’s writing is clear, her winding path through Catholicism and spiritual struggle are compelling and the balance of personal and philosophical was about right for my tastes. So the question is why didn’t I adore this book? The answer, I think, is that it’s like so many other topical memoirs that cut too close to my life: when I and a writer approach fundamentally the same problem, I get distracted by the ways in which they chose differently than me. When a book tackles something very different from my life I mostly am able to appreciate what these different stories have to teach me. But since I’m pretty well along a path that shares a lot in common with Oakes’s I kept getting hung up on our differences, why she didn’t do what I did, how her struggle is not the same as mine. And while I think I would really enjoy talking directly with her and sharing back and forth, this format just didn’t work for me as well as it should have.

[Goose · Rating 4 out of 5]

Perhaps it's unfair to review a book before I've totally finished it (so close!), but as I look forward to recommending this to some of the women in my life, I want to ensure that they, and anyone else picking up the book, do not get discouraged if it doesn't begin the way they want. The story is about an "unlikely" return to the Catholic Church by a woman who has spent significant time away. Moreover, she doesn't look like the stereotypical Catholic: she has tattoos, short hair (so you can almost see her scalp), and she wears boots to mass. These things come out only in glimpses though. It's only toward the end of the book that I can get on board with her conversion, when she talks about the liberal community she found prospering within the Church. A community in which LGBT laypeople are accepted, feminists feel free to "bitch" about the Church, and all sorts of progressive ideas that I don't associate with the Church. Granted, she is based near San Francisco, but it gives me hope for the Church and especially for women's roles within the Church.

[Katie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I always like reading memoirs by fellow Catholics of the progressive flavor, and this is a particularly good one. Kaya talks about how after years of being a "lapsed" Catholic she decided to return, get confirmed, and start practicing Catholicism for the first time since childhood. It's a great book for anyone who finds value in Catholic traditions but has hesitation about the Catholic Church's more regressive stances. I really liked this one passage:

And I realize several things in rapid succession: you can be Catholic and feminist. You can be Catholic and lesbian. You can be Catholic and a straight female and not have kids. You can be Catholic and have children but wonder if they should be Catholic. You can be Catholic and believe in better access to birth control, especially in impoverished and AIDS-ravaged communities. You can be Catholic and female and not a nun and still be a leader in the church.

[Eli · Rating 4 out of 5]

My original review as I finished the book was this:

"As another believer who feels called to place herself 'in exile from the mainstream of the church', I find Oakes' telling of her story deeply nourishing, comforting, and encouraging. It's this kind of storytelling that will sustain the newest and most transformative growth in the body of Christ."

A few months later, I still wish I could articulate more of what I like about this book. But I don't think I can get very far. It speaks to me on an intimate level, underneath most attempts at articulation... in a similar fashion to Anne Lamott's writing. It makes me feel viscerally less alone in my convoluted, imperfect journey of faith. I'm very grateful for that.

[Beth]

I really liked this irreverent, heartfelt memoir of someone coming to terms with what they believed and what they did not. I would love to have a chance to hang out with Kaya and talk theology with her some time. I too am a teacher with what seems to me to be a similar teaching style and have asked many of the same questions of the church, although I think I may have arrived at some different answers, I truly respect the path she has chosen and her ability to share that path so clearly with others.

[Christine · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was fortunate enough to share in reading an advance copy. This work of non-fiction is a loving mix of research, insight and personal evolution. I enjoyed the conversational style mixed with observations and biblical references supporting elements the current leadership of the Roman Catholic church might disagree with. If you've ever wandered away from religion, this will help you realize we can always come home while providing a good laugh and just enough "touching moments".

[Russ · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Thank God for Oregon, and especially for its oppressive weather, which forces people to read."

"Maybe the cure is really a lesson in trust. Heaven doesn't have to be angels tooting around on clouds. Christ is teaching us that faith is more about trusting that God will be with you at your very worst, and that when you die you'll feel a sense of great love."

"Doesn't Jesus tell us that every hair on our heads has been counted, not that he's going to burn them all off?"

[Autaum · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was a Goodreads giveaway that I found pretty hard to get through. It was well written and I appreciate the story, but I guess it just wasn't the type of book that appealed to me! Unfortunately I didn't find it overly engaging, however I'm sure others will enjoy it.

[ribbonknight · Rating 4 out of 5]

I hope to write about this extensively in my blog, but for now I'll say that it meant a lot to me to read a whole book about someone struggling with/having a lot of the same issues with their Catholic faith as me. The book made me feel less alone.

[Ben Bush]

Is this the book that made Pope Benedict take early retirement? Answers inside!

[Linda · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really fun read. Good laughs, great insights. Can't wait to share with friends.

[Mike · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked this book fine but I really wanted to love it and I’m disappointed I didn’t. The premise, liberal woman finds herself unexpectedly drawn to the Catholic Church, is one that appeals to me, someone that very much gets the attraction but also very much understands the author’s reluctance and the issues she has with some of the more conservative positions of the church. Parts of the book were great. I very much enjoyed reading about what drew her back to faith in the first place and how the mass and catholic worship appealed to her. Even more of that would have been better.

But I didn’t like the snarky tone and oversimplification of the positions of conservatives on issues where she differed with them. Don’t get me wrong, I’m on the author’s side of most of these arguments but I think our argument is stronger when we engage our opponents’ actual positions rather than oversimplifying or occasionally mischaracterizing them. Or even worse, attempt to dismiss them with a one liner that is supposed to be funny. (As the old saying goes, comedy is hard.)

And there are also some simple errors that just drove me crazy. For example, the author repeatedly referred to difficulties she had reciting the Apostles Creed at Mass when I’m almost certain she meant the Nicene Creed. And she conflated and confused the fasting requirement of Lent (only one meatless meal and two lesser meatless meals) that is required only on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday with the abstinence requirement (no meat) of all Fridays in Lent. I know, I know, things like this shouldn’t be a big deal but I don’t understand how that kind of stuff slides through.

Overall, I thought it was ok and worth reading if you’re someone like me who feels attraction toward this ancient faith but also disagrees with some of its positions on contemporary issues. This book worked much better for me when the author focused on that dynamic than when she tried to be funny. I was more interested in her arguments with herself than I was in her arguments with higher ups in the church, even when I agreed with her. I already know why I think they’re wrong about certain topics. What I wanted more of is why she decided to come back to Catholicism despite that. When that was the focus, I found this a fascinating and occasionally moving book.

[Angela · Rating 2 out of 5]

When I got this book, I was excited to read it as the blurb sounded rather intriguing.

However, the first 5 chapters were just plain awful. I found it very difficult to relate to Kaya, and upon reflection, I think it may be who her target audience is. For me, it sounded like the book is aimed for a middle-aged, straight, white American woman. And that's not me.

In addition, in these chapters she comes across as being rather closed-minded. I know she's trying to say that she is a rebel and wondering how she could find her place in a conservative religion, but she comes off as one of those people who claim they are open-minded when they're actually pretty-closed minded to views other than her own. In other words, she comes off as high and mighty. It's really exhausting.

The saving grace is really the 6th chapter where she gets together with the other ladies. From then on, it actually becomes much better. Perhaps it's that she comes off her high horse and it becomes something more real.

As a result, I can only give this 2 stars because the 'good stuff' is too far into the book. The only reason I continued reading this book even though I thought it was a waste of money initially is because I'm reading this for book club.

[Kristin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Faith and I have faced interesting times the last several years. Even before I came out as trans, I had grown frustrated with churches were it felt like I had to believe things that contradicted my experience of life and my experience of the divine to “be a real fill-in-the-blank.” Coming out then limited the places where I felt comfortable engaging in those explorations, especially after moving just far enough that formerly convenient churches geographically were no longer quite so convenient.

So it is a pleasure to read religious books from those who refuse to be spoon-fed, but also continue to grow in the religious context that nourishes, challenges, and often frustrates them.

I also felt pulls toward the Roman Catholic Church at times, but never seriously indulged them because of what I saw as dealbreakers. Kaya Oakes is also dissatisfied by many of those same issues, but from within the RCC. In some ways, this book shows how (in some places) the theory of Roman Catholicism can be different from its on-the-ground practice. She shows a love for the RCC that allows her to be critical when it falls short (in too many ways) of its best self.

[michael p. gill · Rating 4 out of 5]

Helpful Along the Way

I've been away from the church for 40+ years and suddenly feel called back to the church after the death of my son two years ago. The fears, questions, and concerns I have about returning are lessened after reading this. I can see where the language may bother some people. But it's part of her story and process. I didn't agree with her point of view about some things. But that's what change, individual and institutional, is all about. And, if we're going to be better Christians, we need to find peace within ourselves. As for people who criticize her, or any of us, for returning to the church, I can only say, if people like Kaya refuse to be part of the church, then it will never change. I'm glad I found and read this book from cover to cover.

[Bernard Davidow · Rating 3 out of 5]

A lively account of a woman's return to her Catholic roots, though not necessarily to the church as dictated by Rome in 2012 (pub date) and an all-male, conservative hierarchy at the controls. Her expedition into the grassroots pockets of like-minded "radicals" is compelling and, at times, entertaining. She champions gay rights and the ordination of women. Yet she finds comfort and finds beauty in aspects of Catholicism and the teachings of Christ. She's irreverent, swears a lot, and bristles at the old-fashioned strictures that she finds stifling. Some of the faithful will find passages outright blasphemous, so be warned. But there is a sincerity in her search that resonates.

[Dorothy Singer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kaya's book gave me a needed sense of companionship on this uncertain journey that faith calls us to. Frankly, I envy the community she has found within her environs. Whine and Bitch. Nice. Old Irish Church transformed into an oasis for LGBTQ+ community. Great. Trip to Italy with her sympathetic agnostic partner. Wowzer. Women's study group. Thumbs up. I am happy for a sense of companionship whereever I can find it. For this, I am grateful to Kaya for writing her story that I can hold on to.