Rosaria Butterfield doesn’t write like someone easing you into a conversation. Her 2023 book, Five Lies of Our Anti-Christian Age, opens more like a warning shot than an introduction, and readers tend to either lean in or close the book within the first chapter. Few reviews of this title sit on the fence, so this one won’t pretend to either. Here’s what the book actually argues, what it gets praised for, and where even sympathetic readers have pushed back.
What the Book Is About
Published by Crossway with a foreword from Kevin DeYoung, the book is built around a simple structure: five cultural claims Butterfield considers false, examined one chapter section at a time through a Reformed, Bible-first lens. The five lies she names are that homosexuality is normal, that being spiritual is kinder than being a biblical Christian, that feminism benefits the church and the world, that transgenderism is a normal variation of human identity, and that modesty is an outdated idea that mainly restricts women.
Butterfield writes from personal history. Before her conversion, she was a tenured English professor who identified, in her own words, as a lesbian and a committed feminist activist. That background shows up constantly, not as a footnote but as the engine of the argument. She’s not writing about these topics from the outside.
The Case She Makes
Each chapter pairs Scripture with cultural analysis. On sexuality, she argues that the modern idea of a fixed “orientation” is a 19th-century invention rather than a biblical category, and that framing homosexuality as an identity rather than a behavior changes how churches respond to it. On transgenderism, she draws a distinction between gender dysphoria as a real experience of distress and transgender ideology as a framework she rejects, tying the latter to what she describes as envy of the opposite sex.
Her chapter on feminism argues that pursuing equality with men required, in her view, denying meaningful biological differences between the sexes. And her closing chapters on modesty connect the rise of social media oversharing to a broader erosion of the line between public and private life.
Reviewers across Reformed and conservative Christian outlets, including CBMW and Washington Stand, describe the tone as intentionally blunt. One reviewer compared her approach to a biblical counselor delivering hard truth rather than validating feelings, arguing that real love sometimes means saying something a person doesn’t want to hear.
Where the Book Gets Praised
The strongest praise centers on two things: her command of Scripture and her willingness to say things other authors avoid. A review at the Orthodox Presbyterian Church’s site noted her sharp connection between transgenderism and envy, and singled out her critique of social media as one of the sharper sections of the book. Several endorsements from pastors and theologians, including Joel Beeke and Mark Jones, describe the writing as courageous and needed, even while acknowledging that parts of it are difficult to read.
Readers who share her theological framework tend to respond well to her storytelling, particularly the passages where she describes conversations with neighbors and friends navigating these issues in real life rather than in the abstract.
Where Critics Push Back
Not every review lands in the same place, even from within conservative Christian circles. Christianity Today‘s review, one of the more measured takes available, credited Butterfield’s call to church membership and pastoral authority as genuinely valuable, while also flagging that her treatment of feminism paints with too broad a brush. The reviewer pointed out that gender-critical feminists, who reject much of what Butterfield calls feminism, actually share her skepticism of transgender ideology, a nuance the book doesn’t fully address.
That same review raised concerns about how the book characterizes Christians who land in a different place theologically, suggesting the line between disagreement and dismissal gets blurry at points.
A reviewer writing for the Orthodox Presbyterian Church made a related observation: the reasoning connecting some chapters to the book’s overall argument is harder to follow than others, particularly the second lie about spirituality versus biblical Christianity, which doesn’t sit as naturally alongside the four gender-related chapters.
On reader review platforms, the split is sharper. One reviewer on Goodreads, who received an advance copy from the publisher, wrote that the book read less like an attempt to help a fellow believer and more like an expression of shame over her past. Multiple reviewers on StoryGraph raised a similar concern about tone, with one describing the posture toward Christians who disagree, including author Preston Sprinkle, as uncharitable.
Is the Criticism Fair?
This is where it’s worth being upfront: reactions to this book track closely with a reader’s starting position on the underlying theological debates, which remain genuinely contested among Christians. Someone already convinced that these five claims are lies will likely read Butterfield’s directness as courage. Someone who holds a different view on any of the five topics, or who believes pastoral tone should soften hard truths, will likely read the same passages as combative.
That split isn’t unique to this book. It shows up across most religious writing on sexuality and gender, where the same sentence can read as prophetic to one reader and unloving to another. What seems fair to say, regardless of where a reader lands theologically, is that the book is unambiguous about its claims and doesn’t hedge to avoid controversy, for better or worse, depending on your perspective.
Who This Book Is For
Butterfield writes primarily to Christian women, and the book assumes a reader who already holds a high view of biblical authority. It’s less useful as a persuasive text for someone outside that framework and more useful as a resource for churches, small groups, or individuals looking for a direct, Scripture-heavy treatment of these five topics from within a conservative Reformed tradition. A companion study guide exists for group settings, which suggests that’s the audience the publisher had in mind.
Readers looking for a gentler or more exploratory tone, or those hoping for engagement with a wider range of Christian perspectives on these issues, may find the book’s approach too combative to land well.
FAQ: Five Lies of Our Anti-Christian Age
Q: What are the five lies Rosaria Butterfield addresses in the book? A: Homosexuality is normal, being spiritual is kinder than being a biblical Christian, feminism benefits the church and the world, transgenderism is a normal identity, and modesty is an outdated restriction on women.
Q: Is Five Lies of Our Anti-Christian Age a memoir or a theology book? A: It’s both. Butterfield blends personal history, including her past as a lesbian activist and professor, with biblical and cultural argument.
Q: Who is the intended audience for this book? A: Butterfield writes primarily for Christian women who already hold a conservative, Bible-centered view of gender and sexuality, though pastors and small groups also use it as a discussion resource.
Q: What is the main criticism of the book? A: Even reviewers sympathetic to her theology have noted that her tone can feel combative, and that her treatment of feminism doesn’t distinguish between different feminist positions, some of which overlap with her own views on transgenderism.
Q: Does the book address transgenderism and gender dysphoria differently? A: Yes. Butterfield distinguishes between gender dysphoria as a genuine experience of distress and transgenderism as an ideology she rejects.
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Final Take
Five Lies of Our Anti-Christian Age isn’t a book written to win over skeptics with a soft touch. It’s written for readers already inside Butterfield’s theological tradition who want a direct, unapologetic case for it. Within that lane, it delivers exactly what it promises. Outside that lane, or for readers hoping for a more measured tone toward those who disagree, the book’s bluntness is likely to be the sticking point rather than its arguments.