After decades of bouncing between hope and despair, Evangelical, Baptist-raised Julie Rodgers found herself making a powerful public statement that her former self would have never "I support same-sex marriage in the church."
When Rodgers came out to her family as a junior in high school, she still believed that God would sanctify her and eventually make her straight. Wanting so intensely to be good, she spent her adolescent and early adult years with an ex-gay ministry, praying for liberation from her homosexuality. In Outlove Rodgers details her deeply personal journey from a life of self-denial in the name of faith to her role in leading the take-down of Exodus International, the largest ex-gay organization in the world, to her marriage to a woman at the Washington National Cathedral. Through one woman's intimate story, we see the larger story of why many have left conservative religious structures in order to claim their truest identity.
Outlove is about love and losses, political and religious power-plays, and the cost to those who sought to stay in a faith community that wouldn't accept them. Shedding light on the debate between Evangelical Christians and the LGBTQ community--a battle that continues to rage on in the national news and in courtrooms across the country--this book ultimately casts a hopeful vision for how the church can heal.
This is a compelling story about a woman who tried to do everything right, according to the laws of Christendom. Julie Rodgers spent approximately ten years in conversion therapy of some sort or another, trying to pray the gay away. Next, she "came out" as a queer Christian who vowed celibacy. I heard her speak during this celibate phase (at a small, hipster-ish church in Santa Cruz), and it was the first time I'd ever heard a Christian lesbian say she was gay instead of calling herself a "struggler" or one who "wrestles" with being "same-sex attracted." Fast forward a few years, and Rodgers has completely embraced queer theology and gay marriage.
In a day when most of my Christian friends are posting rave reviews about Gay Girl, Good God by author Jackie Hill Perry - who 1. believes gayness is a sin, 2. left lesbianism behind and 3. married a man - I think this book serves as a healthy counter-balance.
I'm not saying Hill-Perry's story isn't real, but I'm also well-aware that for 99% of gay Christians, marrying a person of the opposite sex changed 0% of their orientation.
And the thing is, Rodgers is so honest about it all. Even now, she says she hasn't made peace with death. And she still misses her conservative family and her conservative ex-gay ministry mentor, a man with whom she grocery shopped on Saturdays and had dinner almost every Sunday of her life during her conversion years. What huge confessions to make in a time when the ex-gay and gay-gay teams tend to show little vulnerability and share almost no common ground.
Rodgers has now, and has always had, really big questions about God, and the church, and her place in the overall scheme of things.
And every step of the way, she's been faithful to walk in the light that she has.
I think that fact alone makes this book worth a read, regardless of which side you fall on in this majorly divisive and ongoing debate in the church today.
This is a must read for anyone who has ever felt torn between their religion and their sexual orientation. It was an amazing memoir and I am so glad I took the time to listen to it.
First of all, what a difficult memoir to write. I think it would be hard to have to relive what must be some intense painful moments and translate them into writing. And now that I've mentioned the writing - very readable, and several quotes that made me pause and reread the words. She shows the harms of conversion therapy and the aftermath, and she looks at her mindset and the certainty that strict religious beliefs provide.
I also like that she took some accountability, because although she was a victim of fundamentalist christianity, she also wrote for and advocated for the "pray-away-the-gay" ministry that she belonged to. It is very difficult to approach your past self with both understanding and accountability. She doesn't stop with herself, but tries to give humanity to the people in charge and the people who harmed her and others. I enjoyed how she portrayed how she struggled with religion (deconstructing) and the questions she asked herself.
However, I found this to be good, but not great (which is obviously a minority opinion). I've read a lot of memoirs, and I think my favourite type are the ones that examine one's life in context, connecting your experience with broader societal issues. This is where I feel this book lacked; I think it was a deep examination of her own life, but it was mostly just events and shallow reflections on the people around her. It is still valuable, because her experiences are a story that I think more people should read and understand. But in terms of having a deeper impact, it fails; it does not challenge, it did not force me to revaluate, and it did not make me think deeply. It is not bad, again, there were many aspects that I enjoyed and I was very immersed in her story. But would I personally recommend it to people? Not really, unless they had a specific request for something similar. Also obviously I'm not Christian so that might be a contributing factor.
Phew, this was a tough book to read - very well written and I'm so impressed how she went back through her previous thinking and explained her beliefs from that time. I'm so happy she broke out of that toxic thinking but it was so hard to hear how evangelical teachings hurt her and so many others. Even though my evangelical upbringing was thankfully not that intense, it still brought back memories of other teachings I have worked to move past.
A must-read for all people everywhere. If you have ever felt marginalized within your community, if you have ever longed for acceptance, if you have ever wondered if there's a seat at God's table for you or your friend, this book extends hope for healing.
Obviously this is a book that centers the conversation of sexuality and Christianity, but it's also so good for anyone who has found their faith to be too small for their God, or for anyone who has wondered why the church or the Christians they know seem to act so differently from the Jesus they proclaim. And yes, if you want to learn more about the experiences of growing up gay and Christian, going through conversion/reparative therapy, and/or getting tokenized for someone else's movement, then this book can tell you an important story. Simultaneously heart-wrenching and heart-warming.
Julie, your whole life you have vulnerably shared your story in an effort to make life more possible for those around you. Thank you for telling the truth about yourself, inviting us all to do the same (if you've met Julie, you know how incredibly true this characteristic is of her), and offering a light for any of us who have wondered where the next step lies.
Julie is a gifted storyteller and writes with so much grace, even for those who have hurt her. Her journey is incredibly compelling all on its own, but I also found it to be an interesting timeline of the church’s thinking on LGBTQ+ doctrine. Definitely worth the read.
This book made me reflect heavily on something ethicist, professor, and Womanist theologian Rev. Dr. Emilie Townes calls “the fantastic hegemonic imagination.” Townes says that much of the reality we live in is shaped by a selective or imagined socially constructed memory. This sort of imagination is never simply confined to what we hold in our minds in classrooms or in churches, but goes on to form the actual production of good and evil in the world. What Rodgers courageously articulates throughout Outlove is that the dominant narratives told in communities can lead people to embody the belief that something is pathological about themselves, even if it is not. The unfortunate outcome of this process, especially as presented in evangelical communities around sexual orientation and gender identity, is a life or death issue. Where some will make it out alive and work for the rest of their lives to resolve this trauma, others will not. One of the gifts of this book is Rodgers' ability to hold evangelical leaders (by name and by institution) accountable for their actions while remaining both poised and gracious in her treatment toward them. This is a bold example of what Townes' calls “countermemory, “ or “that which seeks to disrupt ignorance and invisibility…beginning with the particular to move into the universal and looks to the past for microhistories to force a reconsideration of flawed (incomplete or vastly circumscribed) histories.” While the perpetrators of harm in this memoir may have their own versions of what happened, the silence of the over 700,000+ survivors of religious-based conversion therapy in the U.S. alone, has been broken. While Rodgers’ personal journey casts a vision for hope, healing, and reconciliation, readers would be remiss if they are to overlook the fact that as long as homophobia continues to exist, some form of Julie’s harrowing experiences will continue to devastate queer and trans communities. Because of this, Outlove is both timely and timeless and a recommended read for any person pursuing an honest reckoning with American evangelicalism’s track record on LGBTQ+ issues.
Herätysliikkeeseen pienestä asti kuulunut Julie Rodgers kertoo elämästään liikkeen sisällä lgbtq-ihmisenä. Hän pääsee mukaan kansainväliseen eheytysjärjestö Exodukseen, joka kiertää ympäri Yhdysvaltoja kertomassa miten homoudesta voi päästä eroon. Homothan ovat pohjimmiltaan hyviä ihmisiä, kunhan lopettavat synnin tekemisen. Usko on iso osa kirjoittajan minuutta (myös nykyisin) ja jatkuva ristiriita omien ajatusten, kehollisuuden, seksuaalisuuden ja "oikean" välillä on raastavaa. Tätä traumaa kirjassa myös kuvataan paljon eri näkökulmista (perhe, ystävyyssuhteet, parisuhde). Kuvaukset keskusteluista kirkon johtohenkilöiden kanssa ovat kiinnostavia ja muutenkin se dynamiikka, millä saadaan ihmiset uskomaan ja tekemään ihan älyttömiä asioita uskon nimissä. Huomasin, että Exodus Internationalista on tehty myös dokkari Pray Away.
This is an important look into modern conversion therapy and the evangelical movement from an inside perspective. Rodgers details her experience as a kid, desperate for validation, a young adult with too much faith in the system, to where they are now openly gay, in love, and navigating Christianity outside of fundamentalism. She writes with compassion and grace humanizing all involved while being honest about the pain she (and others) were in.
Really powerful book, still so unbelievable the profiting made for conversion therapy and the denial of people loving who they love. Also cannot get over Churches and Christian colleges and any role in the shame they put on those in the LGBTQIA+ community.
I always thought I wanted to write a memoir about my experiences with the church, and I’m so grateful that this book exists so I don’t have to. I can just point people to this to capture the complexities of growing up closeted in the church. Every story is unique, but unfortunately, a lot of these traumas are near universal in the church.
Hard to read for me, but should be required for straight Christians
This book was hard to read but also greatly affirming. I was a freshman during Julie's year at Wheaton College and firmly committed to sealing myself back in the closet. I don't think I ever met Julie, but we probably passed each other in the hall or on the sidewalk without realizing.
I remember the "chapel apple" incident. I remember my confusion as I tried to emotionally distance myself from my own queer outrage. And Christopher sat behind me in one of my classes that semester. I was fascinated and a little scared of him--I'd never met someone before who I knew was queer. Christopher was kind to me and I always looked forward to talking with him around class time. I love being able to hear Julie's side of these events because I was so willfully blind at the time.
It's not just that though--Outlove does such an amazing job identifying and analyzing the way evangelical circles function. It strikes me deeply as I too have known the administration at Wheaton College. I was Managing Editor and Business Manager for the literary journal and always wondered if Paul Chelsen would have pushed for me to have that position if he knew I was queer.
This is less of a review than a personal reflection. I wish I could have known Julie that year at Wheaton. I wish I had joined Refuge before my senior year. But I know from my own interactions that every word Julie says is true and in character for those people at Wheaton.
Finally, I am so encouraged to read Julie's deconstruction via examining harm and focus on vulnerable people. I too have found freedom in going down that path.
So thank you, Julie. Thank you for writing this. Thank you for sharing openly. May God's grace be upon you.
I saw the new Netflix documentary "Pray Away," on the grotesque failure of gay conversion therapy within my own lifetime, and one of the younger (read, my age) figures in the film was writing a book about her experiences during the shooting. As most of the interviews were conducted in 2018, I wondered whether she had finished it. She had. The first half of this memoir follows the moving, painful story of her teenage-hood in the conversion program, and how devastating this was on her psychological well-being. At the same time, she displayed a profound ability to compartmentalize and rationalize, becoming a figurehead in evangelical politics for LGBTQ people who remain devoted to Jesus by eschewing relationships. In the second half, she narrates her eventual inability to support this tricky, isolating worldview. She falls in love, as you do.
It's a powerful, easy to read book, and I recommend it highly, especially to Christians who wonder what it's like to be both dedicated to God AND gay, and how that is never, ever, a contradiction in terms. I could lambast the church leaders who attempted to brainwash her, or the evangelical doctrine of "hate the sin, love the sinner," but she doesn't do that, demonstrating an incredible, hard-won maturity and capacity for forgiveness. It would also be easy to be angry at her, but her metamorphosis makes that irrelevant, even childish. She suffered and she changed, and her reflections on God and faith are poignant and beautiful. Read this book. Consider whether dogma or doctrine or something more essential directs the expression of your faith. Change.
I started reading an advance copy of this book on a flight from Frankfurt to Venice, continued reading it in the car as my fiance drove us to Slovenia, kept on reading in a coffee shop as we waited to check in to our hotel, and finished the book as i was going to bed that night. IT'S THAT GOOD! Sometimes people say "i couldn't put a book down" and they mean it figuratively. I mean it literally.
Full disclosure: Julie is a friend and I have witnessed much of her journey. The fact that I was still riveted reading about things that in some cases I has already heard about or even witnessed is a testament to Julie's story telling and writing ability. This is an incredible, heartbreaking story but also a hopeful one. I can't recommend this book enough!
It doesn't seem appropriate to give a star rating to such an intensely personal book, so I'll refrain from doing so, but I can say that I'm grateful to have been able to read a bit of Rodgers's story and learn from her perspective. Once I started reading the book, I knew I had to stay up until I finished it, hence the 2 AM update.
Despite covering about three decades, the book itself is actually fairly short. There were times when I wished for further interiority from Rodgers's perspective, to better understand what she was feeling and thinking in the moment rather than just how she has already integrated those thoughts into sense-making narratives in the years since. I especially wanted to better understand why she came to find celibacy so draining instead of life-giving (aside from the not insignificant difficulty of her time at Wheaton); for celibacy occupying 7 years of her adult life, she speaks of the ins and outs of it remarkably little. That being said, however, I'm entirely sympathetic to the fact that her interiority has been co-opted by other people in sometimes deeply painful ways, and I respect her choice to keep some of her experiences to herself.
I also appreciate the moments in which she speaks of those who caused her harm with humility and an even hand, taking into account not only the harm dealt her but also the other emotional, spiritual, and sometimes political factors at play. Her characterization of her relationship with her mentor, Ricky Chelette, in particular seems to be grounded in many years of processing. Oh, those passages were painful to read; I cannot imagine how much more so to live.
The section on her time at Wheaton was particularly gutting. One wants to hope for so much better in how that entire year played out. I'm grateful that she shared what the job was like from her side of the experience and especially for her characterization of her relationship with Wheaton administration. Christian higher education can be so very darn complicated, especially when it comes to boards and donors and alumni, and I think Rodgers's honesty about her experience is a valuable contribution to the ongoing conversation about how Christian universities are supporting (or not) their LGBTQ+ students (and, in her case, staff). I was so encouraged along with her at the job posting that sounded like it was made just for someone like her, and so discouraged when surmounting political and administrative pressures really complicated what it meant for her to be able to do that job.
If you are coming to this book expecting to read Rodgers's evolving theological stances, from Side X to Side B to Side A, you aren't going to find that, though I don't think that's necessarily problematic. That doesn't seem to be the sort of book she's setting out to write, and I believe we probably ought to be making more space for gay Christian stories that don't have to be theological summae.
That being said, however, the ending of the book rings a bit hollow to me, feels unfinished, perhaps because Rodgers still (Lord willing) has a lot of life left to live. The book's final paragraph reads: "Was that a vision from God? Or was it my imagination seeking comfort in a familiar story, redemptive in its reinterpretation? I'm no longer interested in that question. I've come to believe religion and spirituality have the power to harm and the power to heal. I'm less concerned with what's behind the force that nurtures extravagant love than I am with its manifestation. What we know with certainty is that every day, we are faced with choices about how to live among our neighbors. Imagine how we'll remake the world if we all choose love." These final sentences are really, well, non-specific. To be honest, given the trauma that she has experienced, even arriving at this general of a conclusion may be the hard-won fruit of many years of processing, unpacking, and spiritual work, and I do not want to denigrate that in the slightest. I guess I wished for more concrete hope at the end of this book, but there really doesn't seem to be much.
That being said, I really respect Rodgers for speaking as honestly as she does in this book, about her life before, during, and after Exodus, as well as her transition from celibacy into marriage. I wish her all the best, and I pray that God continues to use her unique experiences to bring healing not only for her but for all queer people in the Church. I'm grateful for her sharing her story.
I highlighted several passages, but my favorite of all was the benediction shared during her first Refuge meeting at Wheaton; like the students present on the day, it brought me to tears, and it seems a fitting note on which to end this review:
"Remember this: God loves you more than you could ever imagine. He loves you with a love that has no beginning and no end. It is a love that you don't have to earn and you could never lose. Whether you feel like a success or a failure, he loves you. Whether you feel righteous or guilty, he loves you. He loves you enough to send his Son to live for you, to die for you, and be raised for you. Even right now, Jesus is before the Father, speaking words of love on your behalf. He will return to renew you and the whole world because he loves you. This is the most true thing about you. This is the first fact of your existence: you are loved by God. Before anything else can be said about you, this must be said: God loves you, and that will never change. So don't forget it. Go in peace."
Downloaded the audiobook 5 min before a cross-continental flight bc of a goodreads rec and finished it in one sitting. Highly recommended. Beauty is more expansive than we were ever taught to believe.
Lots to think through on this one, but I’m very grateful for Julie’s clarity and grace as she tells her story. I’m left with both profound grief and profound hope for the church.
Julie Rodgers does a fantastic job writing about her personal experience with the “ex-gay” movement and the Evangelicals that sought to manipulate it for their gain before it ultimately fell. I appreciate this book especially because it doesn’t try to explain why a progressive interpretation of Scripture is correct, but instead, shows how again and again, the conservative interpretation produces bad fruit and is unsustainable no matter one’s commitment or faithfulness. If you’re a queer person of faith, or you’re the Christian parent of a queer person, this could be really helpful.
One note; weirdly, there’s a passage in which Rodgers deadnames a trans friend, referring to them in the past with incorrect pronouns. On one hand, I understand it, because, with Rodgers being gay, it could be confusing for some readers to read about her having this short infatuation with a man. At the end of the day, if the trans person in question was consulted about this choice, I’m in no position, as a cis guy, to stand in judgment. I just hope that is the case.
Julie Rodgers is a beautiful human being and a remarkable queer Christian writer. Her depth of love and understanding is evident in how she tells her story of surviving gay conversion therapy and finding wholeness as an affirming lesbian Christian. In an era of caustic dialogue and merciless discourse, I would encourage everyone to take note of the Christlike empathy and regard she has for the individuals that hurt her, and of the time she takes to understand the massive political and religious systems that facilitated that harm, and still facilitate harm today. Outlove is a must-read for anyone who wants to understand the magnitude of gay conversion therapy. For Christians who are unwilling to believe that “being gay is a thing,” or who refuse to believe that a gay Christian can exist, this book can be a humanizing education if you are willing to engage with emotional, intellectual, and spiritual honesty.
WOW! This book came highly recommended to me by a friend and did not disappoint! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 My favorite part of this book was how the author shared both the dark sides and human sides of the religious communities she was in. There was compassion for her past self and others in every line. ♥️ Recalling my own experience in conservative Christian spaces growing up, it felt like whole paragraphs could’ve been pulled from my personal memories. 🤯 This book exposes the horrendous impacts of gay conversion therapy, but at its root is redemptive and compassionately invites healing and change in all bystanders, survivors and perpetrators of the practice. Cannot recommend enough!! 🏳️🌈😍
Oooh this book this book this BOOK. An absolutely phenomenal read (or listen). The way in which Julie articulates her experiences being at the forefront of the anti-gay movement within the evangelical church while wrestling with her own sexuality is poignant and incredibly well done. What a story of resilience and grace. I would recommend checking out the documentary “Pray Away” that Julie is featured in on Netflix first for more context on her journey to her now beautifully affirming theology.
A courageous story of growing up queer in conservative Christian American. Julie grew up trying so hard to be good, whatever the cost for her sexual, emotional, and yes spiritual self. Her awakening and choice to trust what she knows is true about herself and the world around her transforms her. Reading about that journey has the potential to transform Thank you Julie.
This brought back a lot of anger and negative feelings about Wheaton College. I had a general idea of what went down in 2015, but it was painful to read the details of how Jules was treated by the Wheaton administration. I wish I could have met Jules while they were at Wheaton. I’m grateful for the impact they had. And I’m so happy that they are thriving now.
I can't say enough good things about this book. Julie Rodgers shows incredible strength and vulnerability as she shares her story of navigating evangelical Christianity as a queer person. This should be required reading for all Christians.
Compellingly written, focusing on the heartbreak that was faced in relationship with those in her life that wronged her. She demonstrated a respectable attempt to tell those stories as complex and not black and white. Unfortunately the narrative unraveled when she cheated on her wife. It makes one wonder how trustworthy other aspects of the memoir are, especially in the telling of other relational arches.