O Evangelho e as chaves de casa: Praticamente uma hospitalidade radicalmente simples em um mundo pós-cristão

by Rosaria Champagne Butterfield

O que Deus usou a fim de atrair para si uma incrédula radical e engajada? Deus a levou para uma reunião evangelística? Ou, visto que ela tinha doutorado em literatura, Deus utilizou algo impresso? Não, Deus usou um convite para jantar numa casa modesta, de um casal humilde que vivia o evangelho de uma maneira diária, simples e autêntica.

Com essa história de sua conversão como pano de fundo, Rosaria Butterfield nos convida a entrar em sua casa para nos mostrar como Deus pode usar essa mesma “hospitalidade radical e ordinária” para levar o Evangelho aos nossos amigos e vizinhos perdidos. Tal hospitalidade vê nossas casas não como nossas, mas como ferramentas de Deus para a promoção do seu reino quando damos boas-vindas àqueles que veem, pensam, creem e agem diferentemente de nós em nossa vida cotidiana e por vezes confusa — ajudando-os a ver o que é realmente a verdadeira fé cristã.

Genres: Christian, Christian Living, Nonfiction, Theology, Faith, Christianity, Audiobook

278 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2018

About the author

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.

Reviews

[Jessi · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a hard review to write. First, in college I was welcomed by the author into the very type of hospitality she describes in this book. I know that she practices what she preaches, and practices it very well. I was an unchurched Christian and she brought me, and many other college students, to church followed by lunch in her modest apartment with delicious and modest meals. The wisdom, love, and conversation she shared at these lunches were delightful. Many of us would stay the whole day and return with her for evening worship, in the small church's basement.

Still, after I began this book, I was nervous. At first, I really did worry it was going to be a new law, and I think it was the description of how the Butterfields practice hospitality and the insistence that we must practice "daily" or "nightly" table fellowship. It is embarrassing to say, because it shows how unlike Rosaria I am, but I scoffed at this! You mean to say God requires that every day or night I need to open my home to people and if I don't, I am sinning? Can that truly be a biblical command that I have been ignoring for my whole Christian life? This made me both nervous and skeptical. Oh no! I can't even handle all of the things I already feel obligated to try to do well! Should I even finish reading this book? Am I just going to feel guilty? But I know how lovely Rosaria's Lord's Days were! How lovely she is! Keep reading! And I was also aware, thankfully, that even if I can't do it the Butterfield way, I should be involved in hospitality way more than I am now. So I read it with part skepticism (sorry!) and part trepidation--I know I need to do this better. Keep reading!

The weirdest part was that the crazy radical hospitality that she describes is probably my dream life! I would love to see neighbors everyday and be in and out of people's lives in such a constant way. But reading it when I was wondering if this was a command, scared me still! I don't live this way and I don't see that coming any time soon. At the time that I read this book, I had five kids who I was homeschooling. (Now my kids are split between going to Christian school or being homeschooled--which adds new challenges!) I know she homeschools, too, but we are different people with different gifts (she is brilliant, for instance) and have different numbers and ages of children and probably different levels of hands-on-edness required, etc. The fact that I even had to wrestle with these things (and make excuses for myself!) is what made me nervous! Should I be defending myself--to myself--because I don't see making my house look exactly like hers? Again, the conviction that I was guilty of practicing hospitality less than I should be, regardless if it should be daily or weekly or what, told me to keep reading.

So I did! Finishing the whole book, I do not think that this book is saying that we must look like the Butterfields in order to be living right, because she does share how other people practice hospitality and they don't all look like hers (chapter eight). Also, she describes a period of time (in chapter seven--my very favorite chapter for its sweetness and evidence of God's beautiful grace in an otherwise sad story) where she could not practice this daily hospitality. She sorrowfully missed practicing this way, but she doesn't say she was sinning.

I think my knee-jerk reaction to the earliest chapters were probably me reading the book critically out of a guilty conscience. I know I don't practice regular or even frequent hospitality. I know that I could do some things differently in order to love my neighbors (which is God's command for us) better and more frequently or even at all. I don't know many of my neighbors. I don't invite all the people from my church, even, to my home regularly. This book really gives a vision for an incredible, and hard, people-filled life--and it shows how this life brings people to the Lord himself! In the end, it has been a great encouragement! I fully recommend it.

As a memoir sharing how living a life of radical hospitality has turned strangers into friends into family members, this book is incredible. Five stars.

[Margaret Bronson · Rating 2 out of 5]

I've been dying to read this book since before it was even released; the Gospel and hospitality? two of my favorite subjects? written by one of my favorite authors? I couldn't wait.

Now that I've read it I think I'm mostly disappointed. While there were lots of good things about this book, for me it fell flat. But, let me start with the good stuff:

Pros:
- Her story about meeting her teenage son in a group home for the first time ripped my heart out and deepened my prayers for our hopeful future in fostering to adopt.
- The last chapter was solid gold. So helpful. I wish the whole book had been like that.
- Chapter 6, Judas in the Church, was also really good, though there were several times I wish she had been a little more clear. I have several situations that are definitely in the borderlands of hospitality but because it mostly revolved around how the Church should respond I was left wishing she gave some thoughts to how individuals within the church should respond.
- I loved that this book didn't include any recipes or party ideas.
- I loved that she was all about the messy home hospitality, mismatched cheap dinner ware, and cheap filling foods. Cuz that's my kind of hospitality.

Neutral:
- She's Presbyterian and I'm Baptist so there is a whole element to this that is based in a very different set of theological ideas. (Covenantal theology)

Cons (Guys, I'm REALLY not trying to be nit-picky, I wanted to love this and thought about not leaving a review but I'm actually worried about some of this stuff):
- I was not expecting what really ought to have been sold as a memoir. I think, had it been billed that way, it would have been a better read for me. I struggled with what, to me, came across as "how to be hospitable like me." I wish that the structure of the book had started with Jesus and the Gospel and what that means for our homes and churches, and THEN provided pictures that added a practical, tangible look at what that means.
- Because it was written more like a memoir it was SO WORDY. Her stories lasted so long I forgot what point she was trying to make with them and sometimes didn't see that she made her point by the time she got to the end.
- Part of why I wished it had been written in a more traditional Christian living style is because Mrs. Butterfield's world is not my world. With every story I felt the chasm between the world she ministers in and the world my family ministers in. My world is a lot poorer: meth next door is the norm and mental illness is everywhere. This is why I wish she had started with some broad, hard-hitting truths the Gospel teaches us about hospitality so that they could be applied in any context.
- Because of the way she continues to use herself as an example she becomes the picture to compare ourselves against rather than the gospel, and I think it's actually rather damaging. Mrs. Butterfield includes a breakdown of her week and it's enough to send anyone into a total mental breakdown.
My schedule is very, very full of hospitality and ministry, yet it doesn't come close to what she has going on. Most concerning is the lack of time set apart to have quality time with her husband and children. But I believe our family is our first ministry, those to whom we owe the highest level of hospitality and whose needs dictate to a degree how much and what kind of hospitality we offer to others. To recommend otherwise in a book on hospitality, even by omission, is, I think, dangerous. For example, my husband is chronically ill; if I over-filled our schedule he would be back in the hospital in a flash, my son would be an anxious mess and my third child, my baby, would go un-held more than he already is.
- I found her response to parents' concerns about our hospitality inadvertently exposing children to things they aren't ready for to be honestly offensive. She brushes it off as sheltering and full of fear. However, she sets up a straw man through using examples that support her position. If Christian parents are afraid to have a LGBTQ person into their home, read what she says, because she's right. BUT, if your concern is about safety and toxic people and those who would prey on your children that's a completely different matter. For example, a little girl we were frequently bringing into our home was actively attacking my daughter and trying to get her in trouble and make her do things she shouldn't do, then lie and say they were her idea. There are many, many times this sort of thing has happened during my efforts at hospitality, and I would love for a mom whose been there to give me direction and not tell me I'm not trusting the covenant enough. Like, really, what do I do? I think I ask someone else in my church to reach out to that little girl and her family and protect my daughter but... again, I would love direction on this.
- I wish she had given concessions to seasons of life. She put her schedule in there with no caveats or clarifications or even saying that "I haven't always operated on this level." Her youngest is 11, and several of her children are already saved and can join into this ministry with her. For me, my oldest just turned five and I have two toddler boys. None of them can help in any significant way with the hospitality and prep. In fact, after we are finished with hospitality I have to work really hard to reassure them and reconnect with them and deal with whatever difficult stuff happened while we were being hospitable that I was not able to address at the time. I wish she had given concession to people being in different places.
- Perhaps most disturbing of all, and my only theological concern, was her take on headship. In her words, headship is a result of the fall and is needed because of sin. I HIGHLY disagree.
- Ultimately, I think this book would have benefited from a better editor. There were spelling mistakes and a lot of organization and flow problems and a lot of saying things too narrowly or saying things too broadly and not explaining what she meant. A lot of the paragraphs left me wondering what she was saying exactly.

I hope no one finds this review harsh. I love Mrs. Butterfield's ministry and her other books and deeply respect her. But, as someone who is very involved in hospitality I was hoping this book would motivate, challenge, encourage, and comfort. For me, it didn't do any of those things. It felt like a whole lot of "try harder, do better" and "do it like me." Since I can't and I'm not her, it was defeating. Honestly, I didn't find much of the gospel made available for me in this book. I found a lot of law.

[Andrea · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is a revised review. At about 30% in I thought I couldn’t take it anymore and called it quits, but I decided to tough it out and complete the book so this is my updated review on the whole thing. It’s pretty rare for me to consider quitting a book (esp. multiple times), but for reasons explained below this book had that effect on me.

First, I had a really hard time getting through this book in the audio version. The reader, who is the author, reads so slowly and with such overly dramatic emphasis that I often had a hard time paying attention. The pace was just way to drawn out. I felt like I was being held captive to one tedious monologue after another. Apparently there is some iTunes hack to increase the playback speed but I haven’t figured it out yet. If (and that’s a big IF even though it has been highly recommended) I read her book about her conversion, I would definitely get the paperback and read it at my own speed.

The tedium was compounded by the excessive story telling. Actual instruction or advice was sprinkled seemingly randomly in paragraph after paragraph after paragraph of personal stories that are overly stylized and riddled with what felt like faux humility (or "humble brags" going by today's vernacular). The author, trying to be warm, funny or relevant, includes a mind-numbing level of detail in her anecdotes like which version of monopoly her kids were playing at the table and the names and vocal characteristics of the singers on the CD she was listening to. In fact, most of anything that could be considered teaching is in the preface and conclusion (including almost half of the takeaways I list below). Unless you really want to read about her life, you could just read those two sections (about a half hour of out nine hours) and you’d get about as much out of it as I did. This book really needs to be billed as a memoir - "This is the story of my life and how I do hospitality: watch, learn and imitate."

To her credit, the author believes that the Bible is "inerrant, inspired, authoritative, unified revelation" and I thought she did a good job of showing a balance between loving people while not approving of their sin. She usually demonstrates good theology (though I thought some of her Bible interpretation was a stretch, detailed below) and I believe she truly loves people and that God is working good out of her experiences (like he is doing with all Christians). She challenges the reader to think about hospitality in a new way - to be radical about reaching out in ordinary ways. I appreciated her example in this. If you're looking for more of a casual, chatty life story/memoir about hospitality, this book may be interesting for you. 

There were a few tidbits that caught my attention in this book about "Radically Ordinary Hospitality" a phrase which was repeated so frequently that it has been seared into my brain and is defined as "using your Christian home in a daily way that seeks to make strangers neighbors, and neighbors family of God." I appreciated the following challenging, though often underdeveloped, thoughts: 

1. Build margin into your lifestyle and live intentionally below your means so that you are ready and proactive about being hospitable. 

2. Hosts and guests are interchangeable. You're always one or the other and the role changes often.

3. Your words can be only as strong as your relationships. "Do I have the grace to say less than everything I could say about something?"

4. No body approves of everybody or everything. When someone challenges you about your disapproval of something, remind them that no one approves of everything and that's ok. We all disagree with each other on all kinds of (big and small) issues and can still be friends and be kind/respectful with each other.

5. My words are not pep talks. "Invest in your neighbors for the long haul - the hundreds of conversations that make up a neighborhood." Don't see your words as "sneaky evangelistic raids."

6. Recognize our own sin (and that while claiming the name of Christ) and don't dwell on your neighbors' sin. Stop treating people as "caricatures of an alien worldview." Love the sinner - hate your own sin.

7. Understand the difference between holiness and goodness - don't be afraid to celebrate the goodness of your neighbors because of God's common grace.

8. Be good company to those who are struggling; be near. 

9. God may use our time and resources and selves as a way of escape for others.

10. Christians are not called to be desperate people even in desperate times, but to do God's work.


Many of these points were mentioned almost offhandedly - blink and you'll miss it. And many of them are book-ended by what felt like self-righteous and authoritative judgments about how exactly to do hospitality and how exactly not to do hospitality. I felt that her words communicated a sense of superiority in both her past (as if she was proud of just how anti-Christian she was and how much she “despised” believers) and her present (as if only someone from her background could see people the way she does). She writes that God calls us to serve and give and not get credit for either, but her entire book reads like a highlight reel from her life of hospitality with superfluous details that seemed to be fishing for admiration and designed to enhance the reader’s perception of her dedication and self-sacrifice. She went as far as to include an example of their weekly schedule, replete with all of the things she does for other people in it. While some may appreciate the concrete examples of how she serves and demonstrates hospitality, for me, it was way over the top. Meanwhile, she is very adamant that the barista at Starbucks and the Airbnb host are practicing “counterfeit hospitality” because they get paid for their efforts (apparently she doesn’t feel the same way about the fact that her husband gets paid to do ministry as a pastor).

Even though she relates so many things to hospitality (so much so that the word loses meaning), she suddenly will get very particular about what doesn’t count as hospitality according to her. The goal of relating so many topics to hospitality, I think, causes her to misinterpret scripture. She regularly assumes the motivation and emotions of Bible characters and even writes in the preface that if Mary Magdalene had written a book about hospitality it would read like this one. She gives as an example of hospitality the exchange between Jesus and some of his disciples on the road to Emmaus after his resurrection. The author writes that Jesus was being hospitable by listening to their sadness about everything that had happened and encouraging them, but she completely leaves out his rebuke (he calls them “fools” and “slow of heart” for not believing what the prophets had written). She also includes the story of Jesus naming Judas as his betrayer as an example relating to hospitality merely because they were at the table when it happened and claimed that “table fellowship” somehow provided a natural context for this exchange. In these cases, she seems to expand her understanding of hospitality to any exchange between at least two people, but in other areas of the book (especially when it concerns other peoples’ efforts) she is less generous.

Toward the end of the book she contrasts what her family does with an extended critique of a family that they know who sets out only two extra seats for guests at their table (and she only knows about this practice from what her son told her about what their son told him – there’s no indication that she’s ever actually talked to the adults about their lifestyle firsthand). She claims that that family’s idol of “family time” will keep them from ever practicing hospitality the way that God commands (which I guess is always inviting your entire 300-home neighborhood over for a grill out). She writes that making the Lord's day a family day steals glory from God and she even dramatizes the way she talked about that family in a very negative way, calling them the “two chairs only family” in a very purposefully miserly tone as if that one decision defines them as a family. These comments (deeply undercutting her encouragement to her readers to start anywhere you can with your hospitality), to be sure, are less than “hospitable” and I think would be downright hurtful if that family ever read the account.

Indeed, she talks about a lot of people she knows (sometimes using their full names) in a way that I doubt endears her to them. I got the feeling that she included so many names to make the point that she knows and interacts with so many people, but she often describes them and their words with condescension and sometimes flat out mockery. I wondered many times throughout the book if she had gotten permission from all of these people to make them look like the ignorant, naively wide-eyed or selfishly misguided character so she could look like the enlightened, self-sacrificing, godly one. The story of her neighbor, Hank, which was told so extensively and repeatedly throughout the book that it seemed to be beat to death, included some pretty negative descriptions and intimate details. I’m assuming that she must have had his (and his girlfriend’s) permission since half the book is about him. If not, I think I would feel pretty used if someone had written that much about me to the whole world. Likewise, when people left their church, she assigned them wrong motivations and doesn’t seem to mind that if they read her book they would likely be offended with her (the pastor’s wife) analysis of them. When her neighbors were concerned about a neighbor being busted for having a meth lab she made them out to be selfish and cowardly with misplaced worries. When neighbors were apprehensive about an unknown pit bull roaming the neighborhood she painted them as unfeeling and alarmist. She even implies that the biblical teaching of 1 Corinthians 15:33 (“bad company corrupts good character”) is a cop out when evaluating how to handle the knowledge that your neighbor is doing meth. If I knew this woman in person, I would be very apprehensive after reading this book to say anything around her that might end up as an example of what not to do in one of her future books. It’s obvious that she sees her way of doing hospitality as the best and most legitimate, often using the phrase “at our house” to distinguish between their way and how others do things, frequently identifying them by name. Near the end of the book she writes, “There are, of course, other ways you can use your days, your time, your money and your home, but opening your front door and greeting neighbors with soup, bread and the words of Jesus are the most important."

The author brings up the issue of the “worldwide refugee crisis” several times and, while it doesn’t really bother me that she has an opinion on this, she is very authoritative about her thoughts on these and many other issues. She claims it’s an “act of willful violence” to not live out hospitality in the different ways she describes and that it’s “deadly” to ignore God's teaching about caring for the stranger. At the same time, she shares that her neighborhood is fighting the new development of homes that is in the works for the land next to them because that land is “needed” as a buffer from the highway and for wildlife. She wrote often of the felons and prisoners that they invited into their home as if it were the most normal thing to do, but then said she hated herself and felt she was misguided for bringing her atheist mom to live with them, writing that she doubted whether or not her mother would ever change and questioning if she should keep giving her second chances. The author mentions her neighbor’s dog a million times (how much her kids loved the dog and how much it opened the door into her neighbor’s world), but she makes light of her ordeal in dealing with a different neighbor’s dying cat (joking with her family about whether or not there was enough space in the freezer to keep it until the owners get home and leaving it alone for almost a whole day bleeding on the floor without calling a vet). She then pats herself on the back with the statement that if they didn’t love their neighbors they wouldn’t be making space in their freezer for a dead cat. I was appalled at her whole description of that situation; I can’t imagine what the owners would think if they ever read it. The inconsistently in her arguments and attitudes was frustrating, especially because the tone in which she stated her opinions came off as so smug.

Butterfield writes of the strained relationship she had with her mom, who eventually did make some sort of profession of faith in the days before her death. It’s always encouraging to hear of an example of someone so opposed to Christ being changed, but I disagreed with the author’s reflections on the matter. She writes that it was being on her deathbed that brought her mom to the point of salvation and, while I don’t dispute that God used that in her life, she then goes on to say that not everyone can come to Christ in the “fullness of life,” but anyone can come to Christ on their deathbed. Because she believed that her mom needed to be made physically weak in order understand her frailty and spiritual need, she makes a claim that I think (perhaps inadvertently) denies the sovereignty of God over anyone’s heart at ANY time – perceived strength or not. She adds that her mom's salvation "changed the past" and made her suffering a mark of God’s providence. What if her mom had not been saved? Does her suffering lose all meaning? Does not God make sense of all suffering whether or not those who have hurt us become saved in the end? These thoughts are, I think, the outcome of an attempt to process the situation emotionally, not theologically.

The author's writing style quickly wore me down and I was very impatient for the book to conclude (which I’m sure plays a part in my overall reception of it). I found that she often took a paragraph -or two- to communicate one sentence’s worth of material. Her flowery, emotional language was too dramatic, seeking for a reaction, and, in my opinion, self-congratulating for me. It felt like she was trying too hard to be poetic and there were times where I think it got in the way of whatever message she was trying to communicate. I ended up with the feeling that she likes to write more than she likes to communicate anything in particular which resulted in this book being so much longer than it needed to be (in my opinion). In a recommendation I recently received for her book Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert she was praised for being a great writer so my impatience with her style is somewhat a matter of taste. Others may appreciate her style as warm and descriptive.

Her style of speaking also made it harder for me to get through the book. Not realizing at first that the author is the reader of the audiobook, I originally thought the reader of the audiobook was party to blame for the sensation that I was being scolded for my naive, conservative Christian perspective that ignorantly sees others as evil and has to be enlightened by someone who has come from the "other side" as to how to treat people. Learning that the author is the reader about halfway through made it more difficult for me to get past her often smug-sounding tone and the fact that apparently she's reading it exactly the way she wants it understood - disdain and all. Her communication style just came off as reprimanding me and bragging about her and, combined with the slow pace, I think I would have been much better off reading the text myself.

Despite everything I struggled to appreciate about this book, I was impressed by their lifestyle (I’m not sure that wasn’t part of the point of the book), but the author really didn’t leave much room for the possibility that not everyone is called to live like they do. There are some very brief caveats in the conclusion (like being on the same page with your spouse), but they are counteracted by her criticism of anyone who isn’t making their entire lifestyle revolve around her idea of hospitality. In a few different chapters she relates stories of her childhood in which she struggled and she wonders, “Did I have Christian neighbors who could have helped? Who knew?” This seems, in part, to fuel her desire to reach out to her neighbors and I think that’s great, but I also know that God’s plan for her life was designed specifically for her good and his glory and that the supposed absence of Christian neighbors getting involved was not God’s plan being thwarted, nor should that thought drive us into an unhealthy obsession with trying to save everyone through “radical” hospitality. God has clearly blessed and equipped Butterfield to reach out in kindness and service to her neighbors in a unique way and God is to be praised for everything he brings out of that effort. Her example is one way in which a believer has been influenced by God (through their hardships, their education, their family of origin, their marriage, their physical surroundings, etc.) to serve him. I felt that she missed the point that God is doing this all over the world in ways that may look very different (even “radically” different) from how God is using her. Her attempt to relate everything back to hospitality got to feel like a justification for how they choose to live more than an encouragement to think biblically about how each believer should use their gifts in this particular area.

I understand that the author has had quite the transformation (coming out of lesbianism when she got saved) and I am thankful that she is willing to write about her testimony and I think God is glorified in her heart for serving others. I don’t doubt that she will influence many and that God will continue to use her to further his kingdom. However, there were so many little digs at the way other people (mostly Christians) think and act that, even though she writes with the inclusive "we" when speaking of Christians, I sensed that she didn't really feel a part of those Christians who don't understand things like she does. I admit that Christians need to be confronted about these issues and that I have a lot to learn about how to love as Christ loved, but between her off-putting tone, rigid opinions of exactly what hospitality is, stretchy Biblical interpretation and inconsistent judgments, I did not enjoy the book. Nevertheless, it has given some food for thought about being intentional with my neighbors and, as mentioned above, there were a handful of thoughts that I appreciated.

[Amanda · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'd definitely recommend reading this book as a challenge to how we typically think about and practice hospitality within the Church. Too often we extend hospitality only to our already-established circle and fail to bring others in. And it's easy to look at limited time, space, resources as an excuse not to practice hospitality.

Also, I think we should broaden our understanding of what constitutes hospitality. At its heart, hospitality is about bringing people in, even (especially?) people who are not like us. This doesn't even have to be a full meal and it doesn't even have to be at our house. I think it's way more about loving and listening and opening yourself to others.

I will say, however, that this book would be more accurately described as a memoir on the Butterfields' particular practice of hospitality. If you're looking for a Scripture-based theology on hospitality, this isn't it. If you're looking for a practical 'how-to' book to help you learn more about hospitality, this isn't it.

There were also a few aspects of this book that bothered me:

- The tone of the book often comes across as self-righteous and condescending. This was further emphasized by listening to the audiobook read by Rosaria herself. I want to be gracious to her as a sister in Christ, though, and I'm sure that the tone was not intentional, but comes unintentionally from sharing about topics she's very passionate about and holds strong convictions on.

- Instead of offering a theology of hospitality and then practical steps/ideas/things she's learned through the years, the book seemed to function more like a catalogue of all the times and ways that the Butterfields practiced hospitality.

- There were a couple of lengthier passages that didn't seem to fit in a book about hospitality. This is a criticism I have about her other book Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert as well.

- Rosaria has strong convictions about being a stay-at-home-mom, homeschooling, and singing only Psalms, which is fine. But the way she interjects these details into her writing sometimes seems odd, often comes across as self-righteous, and isn't gracious toward those who have different conscience conclusions.

One thing I did really appreciate at the end of the book was that she encouraged people to use the marathon training principle of letting the slower runner set the pace. In this sense, a couple should let the 'slower'/more easily fatigued person set the pace of hospitality. And as an introvert herself, Rosaria acknowledged how she has to prepare/recover differently because of her personality.

[Mark Jr. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rosaria does, perhaps, overcorrect. But when problems are really bad, when they have built up concrete walls of protection against outside question, the sledgehammer will probably have to push a little bit into the interior space as it smashes through the last bit of resistance. I needed this book. I needed to open up my heart to non-Christian neighbors in a way I hadn't. No: I still need it. I am deeply grateful for Rosaria. Her other books are also excellent.

[ladydusk · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've now finished another book that I should have finished long ago and was languishing in my "currently reading" pile. I wanted to finish it; I enjoy Rosaria's writing style and content. She gives powerful arguments, testimony, and example. The stories bracket the book's opening and closing very well.

One thing I've been thinking about this week, in particular, is how we react to people in a place of struggle - whether that's emotional, spiritual, mental, physical, or all wrapped together as trauma.

From a final chapter, ruminating on the Emmaus Road,

Jesus does not hurry them. He does not jolly them. He doesn't fear their pain or even their wrong-minded notions of who the Christ shoudl be or is. He knows that the process is important. He knows that grief and lamentation are vital to the soul. The Christian life isn't a math test. A whole lot more than the answer matters a whole lot more. So he accompanies them in their suffering. And we need to do the same. When people are willing to stop and tell us where they hurt, we need to praise God for it, and we need to stop what we are doing, shut our mouths, and listen with care.

How can I listen with care to my children, husband, friends, church members? How can I listen with care to lamentations online? I tend to hop to problem-solving mode ... how can we make this better? What suggestion(s) do I have? But that isn't always what is needed - and it isn't always the best thing.

There are stories here to make you draw back, to draw you in, to consider thoughtfully. There is a lifestyle and conviction to be met and discussed. There are challenges made - how can we serve one another and ultimately Christ himself in the day to day.

Recommended reading.

[Rachel Schultz · Rating 2 out of 5]

My best take away is a reminder that living Christianity should be costly. I have to push myself. I have to work hard. I have to die to my self. She made the point well that you should hospitality with sacrifice. Also she gave good advice to just start anywhere if you’re intimidated.

Criticisms
- False dichotomies. One example is in the beginning when they learn their neighbor across the street was running a meth lab. She goes through a list of wrong things they could have done. “We could surround myself with fear: What if the meth lab explodes and takes out my daughter’s bedroom (the room closet to the lab) with it?” And then after the list… “But that of course, is not what Jesus calls us to do” (19). LOL! Actually, concern for my daughter not getting blown up by a meth lab is super god honoring! And doing that does not mean I think other people are worse sinners than I, shouldn’t be ministered to, couldn’t be saved, etc.

- Too prescriptive. One of the endorsements she included even said this. (!)

- There are a few very long sections of Rosaria telling personal stories, that I think only barely thread the needle of connecting back to hospitality. (Ex: Her cousin opening a gay bar, her relationship with her mom, an incident of church discipline). The amount of detail was excessive for the points she made about hospitality.

- The book would have been better without Rosaria’s pretty numerous (wrong) political opinions - drug sentencing, environment, and immigration are some I readily remember. I can think drug crime sentencing is not too harsh and still be a faithful Christian and a faithful practitioner of hospitality. If she agrees with that sentence she did not make that clear to the reader.

[Amanda · Rating 1 out of 5]

I wanted to love this book. I really did. I love the idea of an open home - radical hospitality - and would love to start living that way. However, this book is not the how-to guide that the title makes it sound like, it's more of a memoir. Most of the chapters seem completely unrelated, and the jumping from topic to topic is jarring. Many of the chapters only touch on hospitality and read more like a blog post on a certain topic (the chapter on church discipline is a good example of this).

But that isn't enough to earn a one-star rating from me. The reasons I gave this book the rating I did was because of the "do it my way or it's not good enough" tone and the weird theology / parenting advice in the book. Here are some examples:

- In one chapter the author talks about how her home is "magic" because she's a stay at home mom. In other places she insists that single people can also show hospitality, but she never touches on dual income households. Are these homes less magic because both the husband and wife work?

- In another chapter, she talks about Simon the leper and says that we remember him as "Simon the leper" because "the pardoning of sin does not come with the removal of reproach." Ok. So should we walk into church and greet each other as "Sam the homosexual" or "Beth the post-abortive"? I don't see this teaching in the Bible. What I see is Paul saying "And some of you used to be like this. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God" (1 Cor 6:11).

- She spends a whole chapter talking about how horrible it was to have her mother come live with them, saying that they were unable to be hospitable because her mother was there. How is is hospitality to have a friend or stranger come live with you, but not to have a parent live with you? "Honor your mother and father" is one of the 10 commandments. In the very next chapter, she talks about how hospitable it is to care for a friend's cat and to move to areas with high levels of drug use and crime. Caring for a friend's cat is better than caring for an aging parent? Exposing your children to the problems of high crime / drug use areas is better for them than living with an exhausting grandparent? I don't understand her rating system.

[Susy C. *MotherLambReads* · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not sure why it has taken me so long to read this book!
Radical Hospitality! So needed! I have been feeling this deeply lately. What a need to open our home our hearts to the loved and the unloved.

What this family does is amazing! Unheard of! But do what we can we must! It starts with me… little by little.

[SK · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sometimes I think that the best books are not the ones we easily embrace, but the ones that wrestle us down to the ground. Going by that definition The Gospel Comes with a House Key represented an excellent reading experience for me. It inspired me, pushed me, strained me, grated on me, and even angered me. I scrutinised my own feelings in response to this book as much as I did the book itself, constantly asking myself why I found so much of the book’s content unpalatable. Is the issue with me and my pride, or does the problem lie somewhere within the book’s pages? I think both.

There is much to admire about The Gospel Comes with a House Key. If every Christian practiced even a tablespoon’s worth of Butterfield’s radically ordinary hospitality, the world would undoubtedly become a more inviting place for the hurting and the lost, and I am confident that the Lord would graciously use those efforts to draw many to himself. As a Christian, I can only ask for the Lord to make this a reality.

I also always appreciate Butterfield’s engagement with secular people and ideas. She strikes a wonderful balance between appreciating what secular elites have to offer while maintaining integrity in the Christian life. I will read anything that she writes on literature, art, and culture.

This book also slapped my Christian complacency right in the face, rousing me—often uncomfortably—from the stupor of my idolatry. The Gospel Comes with a House Key helped me realise that I often practice a kind of hospitality that serves my own ego more than the spiritual and physical needs of others. I recognise my need to pray that the Lord would make me Christlike and courageous in my hospitality, because, after all, my house belongs to the Lord, and everything we have is his.

That’s what I liked about this book. What I didn’t like? There’s quite a bit there, too. Instead of conceiving of hospitality as one of many diverse spiritual gifts a Christian might cultivate it, Butterfield seems to equate it with the Gospel itself. The unhelpful, often patronising, tone of her book, paired with the unevenness of the writing, left me feeling that there is something lacking in her argumentation. Because she’s an academic and an intellectual, I think her audience gives her a pass when she’s unclear. Confused Reader, it’s not your fault. She often cites passages of Scripture that, at face value, seem to have nothing do to with hospitality and emphatically state that they do, without bothering to explain why. (See her treatment of Romans 8:38-39 in Chapter 2, “The Jesus Paradox,” for an example.) Even the very definition of “radically ordinary hospitality” remains frustratingly opaque throughout the book. Is it something done in the home only, or something we bring outside? Is it inviting people into your life, or just sharing the Gospel? Is it homeschooling? Is it headship? It is just being a faithful Christian who bears fruit? I have no idea. It seems to be everything in the Christian life and something very specific all at once.

Butterfield is to be lauded for the grace she extends toward outsiders in her community. She’s admirably loving and accepting toward drug addicts, skeptics, those engaged in obvious sexual sin, etc. But she is sometimes impatient and pharisaical toward Christians who struggle with sins of a different sort—sins relating to greed and materialism, those who, perhaps, have some things to learn about genuine love of neighbour, people she derisively categorises as “nice churchy types” (97). This, for me, represents my biggest problem with The Gospel Comes with a House Key. As a minister's wife, I cringed at the thinly-veiled criticisms of those from her local church (the “two chairs and no more” family, a prime example). Her chastisement of their supposed idolatry and sham hospitality left me feeling uneasy. I felt that these people deserved a voice, a chance to air things from their own perspective. And, I couldn’t help but guess at what they must have felt after reading this book and seeing themselves uncharitably represented within its pages. After all, they are at least seeking to practice hospitality.

Perhaps this wasn’t the intention, but the book often reads (in my mind, anyways) as a tribute to the greatness of Butterfield and her husband and a treatise on why everyone else’s hospitality sucks. It left me with lots of questions—many of which, not the good kind. But, it got me thinking and it stirred my emotions, and, for that, I am thankful. I only cautiously recommend this book to Christian friends and not without making some serious caveats first. I don’t recommend it at all to people with very sensitive consciences. This book is potentially very guilt-inducing, and I don't feel that its underdeveloped argumentation has earned the right to make its readers feel that way.

[Unchong Berkey · Rating 3 out of 5]

I thought I would love this book. I’ve read Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert, the story of Butterfield’s coming to faith in Christ, and I sat in on the hospitality workshop she led at a TGC conference. I love that radical gospel hospitality was used so profoundly in her repentance. And I admire her family’s open-doors approach to life and people, Christian and non-Christian. I have much to learn & be challenged by here. My lack of enthusiasm for this book lies in the tone of how she communicates throughout large chunks of the book. I experienced her as too dogmatic about how Christians should practice gospel hospitality, maybe sounding prideful about her family’s example. I hesitate writing that because I believe she loves people in a way that puts me to shame. And reading this has made me think more about our family rhythms and how we could be more hospitable in the spirit that she describes. Worth the read.

[Loraena · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book really caught me off guard. I think I expected a mediocre Christian Living book. Good insights and truths, but nothing particularly memorable. I'll admit that in the beginning, I was a bit turned off when she rather harshly (to my way of thinking) criticized a foster group home for being too highly structured with alarms and other safeguards. As an adoptive parent myself and one who knows a lot about the damage of early neglect and trauma, I know how much structure such children need. My daughter tends to drift into various destructive and troubling behaviors when she doesn't have enough externally imposed structure and boundaries (and even sometimes when she does). I have close friends who have had to resort to alarms on bedroom doors and ankle bracelets in their own homes. So yes, I absolutely agree with Rosaria that children need lots of love and gospel grace. But they might also need strict schedules and strongly enforced boundaries for the well-being of everyone in the home. Perhaps there was something "off" about that home, but for some children who have suffered greatly, certain kinds of healing have to happen before creativity and flexibility are on the table.

All of that aside, I found myself unexpectedly drawn into her story. Her childhood, her conversion, her family, her church, and her neighborhood...all of it. I was encouraged by the story she told of the time they lost a bunch of close friends in a church conflict. As someone who had a similar role in a small church for many years, I know that experience intimately and have found the pain to be nearly indescribable. Yet, she related the tale in its full grief, without shame and also without disrespecting her (former) friends. I have not read many accounts of this type of loss from such a redemptive perspective and am thankful she chose to share it.

I was deeply moved as she related her troubled relationship with her mother and actually cried when she told of her mom's utterly surprising and unexpected deathbed conversion.

Throughout the book, I kept thinking how wonderful it must be to be so extroverted that you have friends and neighbors in your home every night. So it took me by surprise when she described herself as an INTJ on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator towards the end of the book. Several of my closest friends, including my husband are INTJs and I am an INFJ, so we are definitely an introverted, cerebral kind of couple. It stresses me out when neighbor kids jump on the trampoline for too many hours because it's a level of responsibility beyond overseeing my own kids and it wears me out faster than it seems like it should. So I appreciated that she brought out the importance of living within your boundaries. It seemed clear to me that biblical hospitality is more of an attitude and approach to life and relationships rather than a particular method. Her advice to live within the boundaries of your relational limits and weaknesses (not necessarily to mimic the life she and Kent have created) was much appreciated and probably needed because I think it would be possible to come away from reading a book like this feeling defeated because such a lifestyle feels out of reach. My takeaway was a call to be open, pursuing others, and working towards building trust with everyone God brings into your path - understanding that the journey to deep and transformational relationships is a marathon, not a sprint.

To lengthen this already long review, I must share how this book helped me gain a mindset adjustment towards my own parenting in a way that (once again) surprised me, particularly after being turned off by the foster home story in the second chapter. A bit of backstory - and warning, this is going to be extremely transparent - I find parenting extremely challenging. My husband and I both generally feel exhausted and out of our depth. Our kids are 13 and 10, but we still deal with daily melt-downs, defiance, disobedience, untruthfulness, and what feels like near-constant arguing and conflict some days. My children recently asked me what impossible thing I want to experience before I die and after reflection, I said, "Peace in our home." I'm not sure how they interpreted my answer, but it is true. Rosaria helped me think about how even parenting can be an extension of biblical hospitality. My children entered our home damaged. Don't get me wrong, ALL humans are damaged, but when the damages are disconnected from my own experience and occurred before they entered my home, it's sometimes easy for me to feel a sense of entitlement, as if I somehow deserved happy, cooperative children. I scroll the social media feeds of friends and acquaintances who brag about share how much they enjoy their children and sometimes have to fight the urge to mute their feeds because that is so far from my experience it hurts. BUT (and here is the mindset adjustment I needed) nothing in our path to parenthood should have given me the expectation that I would have easy children. One of my children experienced prenatal substance abuse and is on the autism spectrum and the other, well, she had no one to love her until she came to our family at age 5. She is still learning what it means to love and be loved, to trust authority, to believe that she isn't all on her own and that she actually has parents who want what is best for her. Rosaria's book reminded me, not in so many words, but in a big-picture-theological-perspective way that I am only responsible to love, teach & train, give them the gospel, and desperately pray. I am not responsible for what they choose to do with what they are given. I can, in no way, control the outcome. Love is a long road of sacrifice and heartache. God did not promise me easy, happy, well-behaved children. He called me to faithfully parent the ones I have, and to trust Him for the present and the future. And that he will be with us every step of the way. I am not a good parent. I am a flawed and broken human parenting flawed and broken children. We all mutually need Jesus - the grace of confession and repentance, sanctification, and the hope of what will one day be fully-realized redemption.

[Jeremy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I own a hardcopy but listened to the audiobook. The Butterfields' family practices of hospitality is impressive. Their grocery budget is probably twice the amount of many other families' budgets. And the ways that they sacrifice to pour into others' lives is really inspiring. At the end, Rosaria even mentions the obvious benefits of biblical patriarchy. I didn't agree with everything, but overall this is a very strong book.

Read 5 myths about hospitality here. Hospitality is a habit. WORLD comments here; WORLD interview here.

[Brice Karickhoff · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am absolutely passionate about this book! I think everyone should read it, especially professing Christians, and especially especially professing Christians who are beginning their adult lives.

This book is about “radically ordinary hospitality”. I’ve always believed that hospitality is certainly a desirable trait, and one that should overflow in the lives of Christians, but this book still managed to completely reframe my thinking on the topic. Butterfield’s view of her home, money, time, family, and even her own life is so incredibly sacrificial and beautiful!!

Of any book I have ever read, this might be the most strongly I have ever felt “wow, I want to live what I’m reading”. It also doesn’t hurt that Butterfield used to be a tenured English professor at Syracuse University - she’s as gifted in writing as she is in building a hospitable home.

This should 100% be on that short list of books that all the college-aged Christians read. And if you read it, please please tell me your thoughts! This is one you’ve gotta discuss!

[Annie Walker · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was tough for me to rate. As the overall goal of the book was to compel Christians to step into “radically ordinary hospitality,” I felt that, to be frank, the lifestyle she depicted in the book is actually unattainable for most people. I am not knocking her lifestyle, as it serves as an incredible ministry to those around her. But as a single woman with no children, I cannot practice hospitality in most of the ways she focused on in this book. I think if this would have been posed as a memoir, it would have come across differently, where as a book on Christian hospitality, it felt slightly arrogant and condemning to those who can’t practice it in the same way she does. Overall, it certainly convicted and compelled me to plan to spend real time and energy pouring into my physical neighbors. As a follower of Christ, I am commanded to be the hands and feet of Jesus.

[Josh Miller · Rating 5 out of 5]

Personally, I don't know anyone or any family that does what Rosaria and her husband Kent do when it comes to hospitality. The author calls it "radical ordinary hospitality." Wow. Just wow!

What they have done for years (and I believe continue to do) is nothing short of radical in today's day and age. Although the author believes this should be a normal way of life for Christians, it definitely is not. However, I am of the agreement that it SHOULD be a normal way of life for each Christian home.

Before I write about the book itself allow me to clarify. I believe my wife and I are hospitable. We have people into our home from time to time and enjoy doing so. We know other Christians who are hospitable as they entertain and invite others into their homes. However, radical ordinary hospitality as Butterfield describes it is not only a step up, but something radically different than what we typically define hospitality. They open up their home weekly to their neighborhood inviting any and all for a meal and a Bible study. In addition, they are ready every day for who God brings their way to minister to, whether by a meal or a place to stay. And the author puts forth a very convincing argument that this should be the normal way of life for Christians.

In the preface, the authors opens right away with the three words you will come across often in the book: radically ordinary hospitality. Read on:

"Radically ordinary hospitality-those who live it see strangers as neighbors and neighbors as family of God. They recoil at reducing a person to a category or a label. They see God's image reflected in the eyes of every human being on earth. They know they are like meth addicts and sex-trade workers. They take their own sin seriously-including the sin of selfishness and pride. They take God's holiness and goodness seriously. They use the Bible as a lifeline, with no exceptions.

Those who live out radically ordinary hospitality see their homes not as theirs at all but as God's gift to use for the furtherance of his kingdom. They open doors; they seek out the under privileged. They know that the gospel comes with a house key. They take biblical theology seriously, as well as Christian creeds and confessions and traditions.

Offering radically ordinary hospitality is an everyday thing at our house. It starts early, with minestrone soup simmering on one burner and a pot of steamed rice warming on another. It ends late, with Kent making beds on the couches and blowing up air mat tresses for a traveling, stranded family. A truly hospitable heart anticipates everyday, Christ-centered table fellowship and guests who are genuinely in need. Such a heart seeks opportunities to serve. Radically ordinary hospitality doesn't keep fussy lists or make a big deal about invitations. Invitations are open."

There are more nuggets in the preface that just reached out & grabbed me. Sentences like, "Living out radically ordinary hospitality leaves us with plenty to share, because we intentionally live below our means." What a truth! However, how many of us intentionally live this way so that we can be a blessing to others?

Another reason I loved this book is because the author & her family live out the principles she shares in the book. The book is basically story after story of the Butterfields (all the ups & downs) living out radically ordinary hospitality. I don't know if I was convicted or inspired more. Probably a bunch of both!

I highly recommend this book! My wife & I have both read it and are mulling over ways we can change our life to open up our home to be hospitable to the degree the author encourages. I know this could change lives. Perhaps, the lives most changed would be our own!

Favorite excerpts:

"Radically ordinary hospitality is this: using your Christian home in a daily way that seeks to make strangers neighbors, and neighbors family of God. It brings glory to God, serves others, and lives out the gospel in word and deed." p. 31

"Yes, daily hospitality can be expensive and even inconvenient. It compels us to care more for our church family and neighbors than our personal status in this world. Our monthly grocery bill alone reminds us that what humbles us cannot hurt us, but what puffs up our pride unwaveringly will." p. 35

"The word hospitality approximates the Greek word philoxenia, which means 'love of the stranger.' Instead of feeling sidelined by the sucker punches of post-Christianity, Christians are called to practice radically ordinary hospitality to renew their resolve in Christ. Too many of us are sidelined by fears. We fear that people will hurt us. We fear that people will negatively influence our children. We fear that we do not even understand the language of this new world order, least of all its people. We long for days gone by. Our sentimentality makes us stupid. We need to snap ourselves out of this self-pitying reverie. The best days are ahead. Jesus advances from the front of the line." p.35

"Practicing radically ordinary hospitality is your street credibility with your post-Christian neighbors." p. 40

"God's common grace is not enough to render any of us holy in his eyes. Common grace restrains sin on earth, but it does not remove the stain of sin from the giver's ledger. It's fruit, but it is not the good fruit that reflects a healthy vine. It gives from its plenty, not from its cross. It pays no ransom. Christian fruit hearkens from the cross it bears. Someone may do very good things, things brimming with common grace, but if he has not repented and turned, placing all confidence in Christ for salvation, he will still-tragically-find eternity in hell." p.56

"Practicing hospitality in our post-Christian world means that you develop thick skin. The hospitable meet people as strangers and invite them to become neighbors, and, by God's grace, many will go on to become part of the family of God. This transition from stranger to neighbor to family does not happen naturally but only with intent and grit and sacrifice and God's blessing." p.62

"While others brag about how cheap they are when it comes to hospitality, Kent and I budget for it, and it hurts. Practicing daily, ordinary, Christian hospitality doubles our grocery budget-and sometimes triples it. There are vacations we do not take, house projects that never get started, entertainment habits that never get an open door, new cars and gadgets that we don't even bother coveting. Our children will never be Olympic-level soccer stars, wear designer clothes, or have social calendars requiring a staff of drivers. Instead, my children build forts and catch frogs in the backyard, eat popsicles in trees, and bring neighborhood kids to dinner and devotions when the bell rings.

It costs money and time and heartache to run a house that values radically ordinary hospitality and nightly table fellowship, and we are all in. Over the past sixteen years of marriage, we have given away a lot of things. We give away many meals each week (those we serve here, those we serve at church, those we send in Pyrex pans to neighbors who have new babies or new knees, and those we mail to brothers and sisters in prison via iCare packages). We give away our time. We share our house. We don't rent space in our house. If we did that, we wouldn't be able to give it away. We give away cars when we have had the means to do so. We have never suffered for the absence of anything." p.63

"Hospitality is image-bearer driven, because Christ's blood pumps me whole. It is not time, convenience, and calendar driven. If it were, none of it would happen." p. 64

"We live in a post-Christian world that is sick and tired of hearing from Christians. But who could argue with mercy-driven hospitality? What a potential witness Christians have, untapped and right here at our fingertips." p. 95

"Hospitality is the obvious bridge that brings desperate people into a Christian home, where they can both receive and give great blessings." p. 100

"Desperate people do desperate things. Christians are not called to be desperate people, even in desperate times. The psalms bear witness to this. Christians are called to do God's work in desperate times." p. 115

"There is a powerful act of healing involved in seeing a problem through and having the eyes to see God's hand of direction and care for people. Even when God's providence is painful, it is purposeful." p. 176

"We are called to repent of the original sin that distorts us, the actual sin that distracts us, and the indwelling sin that manipulates us." p. 209

"Table fellowship is central to our daily work, and good food matters." p. 211

"In our house it is normal to struggle with sin and to do so openly. Repentance is a Christian fruit, not a social shame." p. 212

"Knowing your personality and your sensitivities does not excuse you from ministry. It means that you need to prepare for it differently than others might." p. 215

"One kind of household is absolutely incompetent at the practice of hospitality-utterly and completely incapable. It is as useless as grasping at the wind. The household that loves things too much and loves people too little cannot honor God through the practice of radically ordinary hospitality." p. 216

"Hospitality shares what there is; that's all. It's not entertainment. It's not supposed to be. In reality. Christians who have too much are the ones prohibited from practicing hospitality. They have so many cluttered idols that they can give nothing at all." p. 217

[NinaB · Rating 3 out of 5]

*I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via #netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

I have been looking forward to reading this book; first, because the author is one I’ve admired from afar ever since I read her first book, Confessions of an Unlikely Convert; second, because hospitality is a ministry dear to my heart. I had high expectations for this book; and sadly, it slightly disappoints. Perhaps I’m being nit picky and I apologize if I sound harsh, but I need to give my honest review. It is perplexing because though I do not love the book, I do not have a problem recommending it to others. (I gave it a 4* on netgalley bec of this).

I’m not sure if this is promoted as such, but it is part memoir, part theology lesson, part christian living kind of book. Interwoven are the theological basis, biblical illustrations and personal story about hospitality. Mrs. Butterfield is a good writer and could very well be the most qualified to talk about hospitality, but I still find issues in the book that I cannot give it a 5-Star rating.

These issues are not theological in nature, so I can still in good conscience recommend the book. For sure, it is highly engaging, saturated with Scripture, and convicting to the core. I’ve had to stop several times to repent for past sins in the area of hospitality and pray for God’s grace to help me a better hostess.

I cried reading about her tumultuous relationship with her mother. I especially love that she encourages us to not idolize safety and security, something American Christians are obsessed with. We need to live our ordinary lives radically and one way we do that is through hospitality. Here are some favorite quotes:

I know I can’t save anyone. Jesus alone saves, and all I do is show up. Show up we must.

Radically ordinary hospitality is this: using your Christian home in a daily way that seeks to make strangers neighbors, and neighbors family of God. It brings glory to God, serves others, and lives out the gospel in word and deed.

Christians must learn to practice radically ordinary hospitality not only as the hosts of this world but, perhaps more importantly, as its despised guests. Let’s face it: we have become unwelcome guests in this post-Christian world.

God calls us to make sacrifices that hurt so that others can be served and maybe even saved. We are called to die. Nothing less.

The job of an ally makes the cross lighter, not by erecting or supporting laws that oppose God’s law, but by being good company in the bearing of its weight.

Now for the disappointing parts...here are just a few:

Perhaps this is unavoidable when writing a memoir, and I have a sensitivity to humble-bragging because of my own pride problems, but I find her constant use of her own personal triumphs in hospitality as a little irksome. I don’t want to judge her motives, but it gets old when I read one hospitable act by the author after another. She did use other people’s examples, but it’s mostly about her and her family’s sacrifice and good works. This is especially interesting because she talks highly of her husband who would not “tarnish by bragging about it (one’s coming to faith through their hospitality) on a blog post or on Facebook. Kent is a Christian man. Christian men do not steal glory from God. This is the kind of news that moves mountains, something to be addressed in the sacred moment of table fellowship.”

Her schedule seems unmaintainable. Doing intentional ministry every day could exhaust even the most devoted Christian. As a minister’s wife, I understand that being in full-time ministry is a 24/7 kind of job, and opportunities to serve could come at any moment. But her way is to have something planned every day. Maybe these are assumed, but I ask her, When does she devote time alone with her husband? When does she foster one on one time with her kids? It is hard to imagine she has time for them just by reading about her schedule.

One of the characters she mentions in the book is Hank who starts as a grumpy neighbor and becomes a friend. Later on, it is found out he was leading a secret criminal life. I understand and admire the author’s compassion for her friend, but her intent focus on this made her question the fairness of his incarceration, made her forget his serious crimes that hurt a lot of people. His sins are somewhat downplayed. Yes, as a Christian, he has been forgiven, but he still has to face the consequences of his sins.

She quotes and uses as a good example a Catholic priest who “regarded hospitality as a spiritual movement, one that is possible only when loneliness finds its spiritual refreshment in solitude, when hostility resolves itself in hospitality, and when illusion is manifested in prayer.” This sounds mystical and, as an ex-Catholic, I seriously have an issue promoting any of them.

I found two typos: principal when she meant principle, tails instead of tales.

[Lydia Harry · Rating 5 out of 5]

Cried in 3 coffee shops and a library while reading this. If Christians are a living temple of the Lord, shouldn’t our time, space, resources, and selves be avenues for others to know him better? This book gave me lots to chew on. Oof

[Bambi Moore · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 1/2 stars. This book is thought-stirring and a deeply challenging call on hospitality to the stranger and outcast. She calls us to love our LGBT neighbors with hospitality and hope of the gospel, not fearing or despising them. This book was hard for me to put down. I will read it again someday.

The type of hospitality that Mrs. Butterfield holds out before us is indeed radical. She gives many, many examples of this in her own life. So many in fact that sometimes the book felt more like a memoir. But this did not put me off, as I do love memoirs! And Mrs. Butterfield’s conversion story is such a staggering example of God’s grace that I would have read this book just to read of her current walk with Christ since writing Secret Thoughts. I highly recommend reading her Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert before reading this one.

I have a slight problem or two with this book, same as I’ve seen others mention. Mrs Butterfield does seem to brush off hospitality with like-minded people. In my own life however, most people do not even extend hospitality to other Christians, or even accept an OFFER of hospitality from other Christians. I can’t count the times I’ve been flat turned down, and it is a very rare thing for my family to be invited into others’ homes. And so I wish that like-minded hospitality had been addressed at least as a starting point for those who aren’t yet offering their homes to anyone, period. Hospitality requires a level of humility because there is no way to have others in your home without exposing your own or your family’s flaws. And at least in my circles, no one wants to do even this small thing. In short, Mrs Butterfield rightly holds up a high bar for us, especially those who believe hospitality is commanded but aren’t reaching out to the strangers among us. I wonder if this high bar will blow the minds of some who have yet to get their feet wet. Like I said, very thought-provoking book.

Her testimony of ministering to her mentally-ill mother was beautiful. Her example as a helper to her pastor-husband was fantastic and very interesting to me as well. The transparency and truth she shared about her church’s sin, the discipline of its leaders and the effects on the rest of the body, was humbly shared.

At times she mentions things that made me scratch my head as to what it had to do with hospitality. For instance she mentions several times a disdain for social media. Which I understood but it just didn’t seem to fit/flow with the book. A time or two I felt like my hand was slapped and a tone of winsomeness was needed. Just my opinion. That’s a hard balance for a writer.

Overall I loved the book. It was heavy on real-life examples but I enjoyed them. Mrs.Butterfield has a gift of hospitality that is highly exercised and I’m thankful she shared her writing with us. Parts of the book I thought, “Wow, she is so brave to be saying these things!”

[Kristen Yoder · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent book on the value of daily practical hospitality and it's connection to the gospel...

On my second time reading this book, I was struck again by her clear explanation of grace, and her dogged pursuit of following Jesus by serving others. I did have more questions though this time: what are her boundaries? What happens when I try to imitate her boundaries instead of discerning my own? And, how did her children respond? Were the accounts she shared in the book the whole story?

[Kelly Sauskojus]

This book floored me. Rosaria Butterfield casts a beautiful image of Christian home as ministry through ordinary, daily hospitality. She strikes the perfect balance between practical details and lovely well-read writing. This book will be affecting me for years to come.

[Mark Donald · Rating 4 out of 5]

Powerful book about "radical ordinary hospitality". Much of it is autobiographical about how Rosaria and her family have intentionally organized their lives around the idea of loving neighbour through opening their doors and their hearts.

I'm convicted, challenged, and encouraged to think about how the gospel comes with a house key and how I can grow in extending the grace and love of Christ to others in this way.

[Delaney Zook · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m so sad this took me 3 years to read. I read the first chapter in 2019 and then STOPPED. What the bump? Obviously, it’s all going according to God’s plan, but man… what a book! It had me crying and worshipping the Lord and praising God for the way He works through His people. Hospitality. It’s not rocket science. It’s love. Rosaria Butterfield is a beautiful woman of God and I am so thankful she wrote this book. A book that is so encouraging and holds Christians to a higher standard. Like what are we doing??? We gotta start living like the Bible tells us to people. Gee whiz.

[Felipe Sabino · Rating 5 out of 5]

A glória do Evangelho e a radicalidade do chamado cristão. Um livro fantástico e desafiador. E ousaria dizer: leitura obrigatória para todo e qualquer cristão.

[Keri · Rating 2 out of 5]

Unpopular opinion incoming: ...Overall, I did not like this book.

While many of Butterfield's admonitions are a needed rebuke for Christians to be intentional with neighborhood relationships — especially the marginalized and those who are different from you, there were so many red flags along the way that I feel I can't really recommend the book as a positive learning experience as a whole.

But let's start with the good stuff:

- Rosaria definitely champions "radical, ordinary hospitality." This isn't throwing a dinner party or having a mansion in a nice neighborhood or candles and steak — just basic rice and beans, open door warmth that truly, genuinely, unconditionally loves in practical ways, even and especially those who sit on the fringes of society.
- She has an incredible conversion story, and it's hardly possible to walk away from it without marveling.
- She repeatedly, unabashedly, and eloquently shares the gospel.
- The last two or three chapters were really the shining jewel of the book, where she shares the most practical advice and biblical wisdom.


Okay now for the red flags. 🚩🚩🚩

- Just as a reader, I was often thrown off at how much content there was that barely tied in with hospitality, given the book's title. She covers church discipline, a variety of sexual sins, political and moral issues, elder care... A lot of stories felt disjointed from her stated theme and it was confusing.

- Now for the theological objections. My primary issue with this book: it shares wayyyyy too much adult content and detail on other's sins and failings. (Some examples: a scene in a gay bar, quoting others' use of profanity, naming full names and sins of people disciplined from her church, describing her parents' angry outbursts, one daughter's estrangement from the family...) It's not the type of book you can listen to around children, and I wanted to scrub some of her stories from my mind. I didn't think the way she aired others' failings was very loving, and honestly it came across as spiritualized gossip at times.

- She is almost always the hero of the stories she tells. I found her tone often condescending and self-righteous, even if the ideas themselves were usually sound.

- Lastly, I wish there had been more discussion of biblical responsibilities and wise priority setting. (I.e. It's okay and even RIGHT to be concerned for your children's safety. And if your marriage or children are falling apart, it's probably not a good idea to be focusing on evangelistic hospitality for a while until your house is in order...) As it was, I think it might swing the pendulum too far the other way, so to speak.

•

Sorry that's so long.

It's just a book I went into blind and really expected to love given so many positive reviews — only to find it not very loving in its tone or storytelling. It definitely has some gems to be gleaned, but also some things I think don't line up with biblical love or wisdom.

[Rachel B · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.75 stars

This was a hard book to rate and review, because it was a little misleading, in my opinion. Supposedly, it’s about hospitality. However, the first half or so of the book is more about God’s design for sexuality and the way churches are to function. There’s a lot about church discipline in these pages. These things weren’t bad, but they were indirectly, instead of directly, related to hospitality and so I was frustrated for a good portion of the book.

However, when Butterfield does actually get around to talking about hospitality, specifically, and even when talking about what our relationships with God should look like, more generally, there are so many good points and quotes. I wrote down a couple pages’ worth, they were so good!

There were a few things here and there that rubbed me the wrong way, or that maybe I have a slightly different belief about than the author has, but the only things I feel worth mentioning are the cursing and the potential bragging.

When quoting others who used curse words, she included them in the book, which I found completely unnecessary. It would have been enough to state that someone cursed. No one needs to know the exact words these people used - they were irrelevant to the stories - and because we’re reading them, they’re entering our minds. It’s one thing to hear these words from real people we’re interacting with in our own personal lives, and it’s another thing to read them in a book, by a Christian, that could have been edited more thoughtfully but wasn’t.

And because she drew from her own life exclusively for the stories in this book, the tone frequently sounds a bit arrogant, like she’s doing nearly everything "best," or at least better than 99% of other, more sinful, Christians. Parts of it left a bad taste in my mouth, and I would have liked to hear more about hospitality she received, instead of primarily about all the good things she and her family do.

Actually, one more thing: She repeated the phrase "radically ordinary hospitality" so many times that if they were put into one place, would probably add up to a few pages. The repetition drove me nuts, but the phrasing did, too. "True hospitality" is more accurate and a lot less wordy!

Overall, though, there was a lot of good here.

[Josiah DeGraaf · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book, but you need to know what you're getting into, as it's more memoir than your standard non-fiction book about hospitality. To be sure, Butterfield talks a lot about Scriptural principles about hospitality and why it's important to live this out in life. But a large chunk of this book is her relating different stories from her own life about how her family practices hospitality and the challenges they've had to overcome as they've done it.

There seems to be a fair number of negative reviews on this page from reviewers who disliked this personal focus: both because they were more looking for a more traditional non-fiction read and because some found it to be arrogant. Personally, however, I much preferred this approach to a more traditional non-fiction read. Too many books spend too much time talking about vague generalities (even when they're talking about Scriptural application) and it's pretty easy to show the importance of hospitality in Scripture. Butterfield's approach--that gives a plethora of examples of what hospitality can look like, talks realistically about the challenges they've faced, and shows us models of how to walk faithfully as Christians through those trials--was much more practical and helpful for me. I'm not sure that most Christians can pursue hospitality to the extent that Butterfield and her family does. But more Christians should aspire to get closer to it than the place where we are now.

And by "more Christians," I'm primarily thinking of myself here. I ought to be more hospitable in the ways that Butterfield describes here with those outside the church. And so for me, this book convicted me, gave me examples of what Christlike living looks like, and encouraged me to take additional steps in this direction (at least once we get out of the pandemic we're currently living in the midst of). It may not be your traditional approach to non-fiction. But for this book and this topic, I thought it was the right choice to make.

[Laura Robinson (naptimereaders) · Rating 5 out of 5]

This has def become one of my favorite reads. I’ve gained so much insight into hospitality and how it can be a powerful way to share the gospel. Rosaria Butterfield beautifully explains how she and her husband open their home to neighbors, strangers, outcasts—even children. Her writing was both encouraging and convicting, showing me how something as simple as cooking a meal and inviting people over can be a profound way to live out the gospel.

I really appreciated how Rosaria gave us an honest glimpse into her own life—the highs, the struggles, and even the moments when she questioned whether she was doing the right thing. Her testimony is a powerful example of what it looks like to live your entire life in service to Jesus🥹.

One of my most favorite parts was the story of her mother coming to know the Lord. It was a beautiful reminder not to give up on those we think are too far gone because God can reach anyone He places in our lives. Seriously you will cry.

I highly recommend this book and can’t wait to read more from her!

[Hope Joyce · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is so rich and convicting and wonderful and captivating. I would definitely recommend this to any Christian seeking to show more love and godly hospitality to our community that God has placed us in. I will be reading this again!

[Hannah Herrera · Rating 4 out of 5]

Personally I really enjoyed this book. It was a beautiful testament to the impact of hospitality on the human soul and heart- and its power to draw people from our tables to the table of God. I really enjoyed the specific stories and bits of her conversion story. I do a lot of hosting so it was really encouraging that my labor is not in vain! I think the criticism it gets is that it’s too intense, and I say certainly take from it what you can do- not as a burden or a prescriptive but an encouragement.