See Me Naked: Stories of Sexual Exile in American Christianity

by Amy Frykholm

“A fascinating, troubling, and finally heartening book that subtly shows ways that Christians might reconcile their bodies with their devotion to God. Highly recommended for individual Christians but also for pastors and church groups.”—Library Journal, starred review

Stories of sexual scandals in churches throughout the nation have been downright routine in recent years, suggesting to many Americans that a deeply rooted problem plagues American Christianity—and prompting some to abandon their congregations altogether. In See Me Naked, Amy Frykholm takes us beyond simple indictments of, or blind allegiance to, Christian cultures to explore the complex, intimate intersection of sexuality and spirituality as it affects the lives of ordinary Christians.
 
Recounting with care and nuance the life histories of nine American Protestants, Frykholm shows us the harm done by the rules-based sexual ethic now dominant, which alternately denies and romanticizes sexuality. But she also points to how American Christians might otherwise access their spiritual tradition to heal the divide between religion and sexuality. One story examines the intricate relationship between a man’s religious faith and his sexual addiction. In another, a man defines religion as a wall that kept him from the discovery that he was gay. One young woman uses sex to defy her devout parents, while another seeks to transcend her body by going without food. Nearly everyone interviewed in See Me Naked remains a Christian, with some further on their journey than others. Yet each of them is working to understand the connection between their desires and their faith. Ultimately, their stories—stories of pain and violence, perseverance and courage—attest to the healing power of struggling through the wild and uncertain experiences of life.
 
See Me Naked explores the many ways that people work to recover from harmful beliefs and restores the notion that one of the key insights of Christianity is that the body, with all its struggles, pains, and difficulties, is a vehicle of the holy and can lead us into a more full relationship with God.

Genres: Nonfiction, Sexuality, Spirituality, Religion, Gender and Sexuality, Theology, Christian

208 pages, Hardcover

First published November 1, 2011

About the author

Amy Frykholm is an American writer whose four books of non-fiction have covered the territory of American religion from apocalypticists to saints. She is an award winning writer and senior editor for the magazine The Christian Century, appears frequently on television and radio programs as an expert in American religion, and has lectured widely on subjects like the Rapture, purity culture, and lost female figures in Christianity. She has a PhD in Literature from Duke University.

Reviews

[Johnna Cornett · Rating 5 out of 5]

Through conveying the stories of nine people, a useful and helpful discussion, the likes of which I have not otherwise seen, of spirituality and sexuality, and how to negotiate one's conduct in terms other than rules.

[Teri Peterson · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think this is an important book--people in the church need to be reading this book and discussing just how exactly we talk about sexuality and morality and shame and bodies and all kinds of things.

Having said that, it'll be hard for the mainline church to use this book to start that conversation, because almost all of the stories here are from people with evangelical/charismatic/fundamentalist backgrounds. That makes it super easy for progressive mainliners to say something like "see, just another way we're better than they are...we don't have this repressed restrictive overly moralistic legalism to overcome..." which then means we can continue to ignore the issue altogether.

I wish there had been more balance in the stories. Surely there are people who grew up in progressive churches who can talk about how their sexuality was shaped by the church. Surely there's someone--SOMEONE, somewhere--whose sexuality was POSITIVELY shaped by their childhood church experience? Then at least there'd be a way to have a conversation, someplace to go, somewhere to look. Instead we're left with simply "wow, that sucks..." and a plea to tell the stories of spiritual, psychological, and physical abuse. While Frykholm's last chapter does offer a positive ethic, that's probably the least memorable part of the book. If there were a story to illustrate that ethic, I think we'd have an easier time latching on to a conversational starting point.

I'm sure after book group I'll have more to say about this, but having just finished it I can say that most of the time I was reading I was wondering where the mainline church was in all of this, and how easy it would be for us to ignore because it feels like this is another book about "Christians" that ignores us.

[Kendall Davis · Rating 4 out of 5]

The stories that Frykholm tells put flesh on what so often become abstract issues and battle lines in a culture war. More people need to read this book so that we can at least develop the empathy necessary to address these issues thoughtfully and compassionately. I commend this book to anyone who thinks that we need to learn to listen before we speak.

Naturally, I don't agree with everything that the people in these stories say or do, but that's not the point. I did find Frykhom's suggestions and analysis of these issues to be more helpful than I expected. I would take a different approach for some key reasons, but Frykholm's analysis and suggestions deserve to be listened to, especially by conservative Christians like myself.

[Heidi · Rating 4 out of 5]

I grew up in a very liberal church but we still NEVER talked about sex. Although this book focuses on the experiences of evangelicals, it enhanced and expanded how I think about Christianity and sexuality. Frykholm addresses pleasure and incarnation theologically and accessibly - and beautifully. I thought her treatment of the body as a way of knowing was exquisite.

[Cynthia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Worth thinking and talking about

Although I appreciated some of the stories and found the ideas presented to be a good provocation for further thought and discussion, the book feels unfinished. It’s a conversation-starter but didn’t give me much in the way of informing my own thinking.

[Kyanne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Probably one of the most thought-provoking books I've read recently. It was a quick read but I already want to go back and read it again. It poses lots of questions but provides few answers--but Frykholm is upfront about that in the introduction to the book.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars. The essay on incarnation is the most intimate and astounding part of the book. The way the author guides the thoughts of her readers and wraps language around experiences is simultaneously transcendent and grounded.

[Wayne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent, good read

[Jana · Rating 5 out of 5]

For a former evangelical Christian, this entire book is a revelation of "Guess what? You're not the only one."

[Erin Henry · Rating 4 out of 5]

Powerful stories that reveal there is much more to sexuality than the familiar rule to "save it for marriage"

[TheObsessiveCupcake · Rating 3 out of 5]

An easy read that allows you to really see into the minds of Christians as they fought with their personal struggles of exploring or rejecting sexuality. So now go and read!

[Sara · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm encouraged to see books like this - we certainly need more creative discussions about sexuality in the church. The subtitle is misleading though, this is not a book about people who have been "exiled" in any real sense, most of them have simply had some ambivalence about their sexuality coupled with some contact with Christianity. The testimonials range from a teenager struggling to establish boundaries with his girlfriend to a woman who was sold to a pimp by her own family.

I appreciate See Me Naked because it brings up a host of issues surrounding sex and the church that should be discussed more openly, more often: the harm inflicted by purity culture; the prevalence of sexual abuse, particularly in patriarchal churches; a need for parent support in addressing sexuality with their kids; lack of sound theology and support for those recovering from abuse; helping people understand and navigate same-sex attraction; confronting body shame issues; how to date well as a Christian; etc. All important.

Unfortunately, Frykholm doesn't offer much in the way of an alternative vision. She essentially suggests two things:

1. Finding ways to celebrate and enjoy our bodies in general (not necessarily sexual ways). Great. Yes, our bodies are made for more than sex and we should work harder to nourish connections between the body/mind/soul.

2. Back away from strict "rules" governing sexual ethics. I agree with her that rules produce more shame than holiness, and that we can do better in our Christian communities (churches, youth groups, campus ministries, homes). Sadly, she fails to develop a gospel-centered ethic to replace the rules. This is my ultimate disappointment with the book - it could have been such a good resource if it included a thoughtful section with some guidance about moving forward on these issues.

I plan to discuss this with a group of Christian women and see what we come up with.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

Didn't literally take me three years to read this, but instead I read it, wasn't sure how to process it, procrastinated on reviewing it, and after several years decided I had to read it again to figure out what to say about it. It's a beautiful and valuable book because it tells fairly fine-grained stories from people's actual lives. The stories have been arranged into a larger structure to try and support a meta-narrative; this isn't the strongest or most memorable part of the book, but it's not without value, and the afterword in which Frykholm tries to stake out a mental space where we could better articulate our ethical reflections and questions about sex is provocative. But it's as a collection of stories that this book has the most value. (Bolz-Weber's Shameless is similarly stimulating but has less in-depth discussion of the lived experiences of a variety of people, and reading See Me Naked, you see why that's such a crucial part of the discussion.) The third section has a focus on the harm suffered by people who have been trafficked, and it reads in such a way as to conflate sex work with exploitation. I wonder if Frykholm (currently writing and editing at the Christian Century, a progressive mainline magazine) would frame her storytelling in this section the same way today.

[Melanie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was unsure at first, but in the end I found its simple storytelling compelling. I do think this is the kind of book that is probably more interesting to folks from the inside of evangelical American Christianity who are looking back, around, or within themselves; perhaps not so interesting to those looking in from the outside.

"Mark was, in a way, heartbroken, but decidedly changed. He'd been forced to see the world through someone else's eyes. The boundary between Christian and non-Christian, good people and bad people had dissolved, or at least been renegotiated. With that boundary gone, others were likely to transform as well" (p. 45).

"They knew that the only legitimate way to talk about their relationship was to confess it as something bad. They had to regret it and be trying hard to change. They had to ask other people to hold them accountable to this change, even when they weren't sure they wanted this accountability. So when Megan and Lily wanted to establish integrity, to make their relationship visible, the only way they could do this was through confession and repentance. If they talked about their relationship but refused to repent, that was tantamount to heresy..." (p. 59-60).

"Since, for Paul, everything that was a part of the church was real, and everything that was not part of the church had a sheen of unreality about it, Paul was able to suppress sexual impulses for a long time. 'My spirituality,' Paul says, 'just overshadowed my sexuality. I had always lived in my head and not my body. Everything having to do with sex was wrong and sinful. I was afraid of God, afraid of the consequences, afraid of addiction.'...[Paul] imagined that part of himself could simply be screened off" (p. 93).

"Perhaps what is most striking about Ashley's story is how well she learned and followed the rules and beliefs of her religious culture. Unlike other teenagers, she was not rebellious. She was intent on following the rules as meticulously, minutely, as she could. She was convinced that the way of life offered to her by [Joshua] Harris and others would lead her to intimacy with God, and she was prepared to follow it to its ultimate success, the eradication of all desire, except the desire for God" (p. 111).

"The trap that [Jim] Bakker found himself in is one that is perhaps not at all uncommon in American Protestant Christianity and explains, in part, why scandal plays such a central role. To prove one's masculinity, one has to break the very rules that faith insists sets it apart. Masculinity and religiosity are pitted against each other. And all men in Matthew's environment had secrets" (p. 130).

"'We were taught that a person should stay sexually pure until marriage, as my wife did. Or tried to if it hadn't been for me. I think about how much we deeply believed that and how much we struggled with it when we were young. But now I wonder, for what? Why should Katie have had to go through that. So that she could get messed up by a guy with a raging, unacknowledged sex addiction? Is that what sexual purity is for? What about a process of self-discovery and self-understanding before marriage? Why don't they teach that?'" (p. 137).

"'If somebody cuts off your legs when you are a kid, no matter how many times somebody says, "Run, run," you can't. Abuse leaves a scar--physical evidence...'" (p. 165).

"Theologically, incarnation is tricky. Is Jesus's incarnation like ours? Or is it different? For some Christian thinkers, the key to understanding Christ's incarnation is sin...[but] it isn't the only one available in the Christian tradition. For Orthodox Christians, Logos is not only the Word of God dwelling in a single human form, but also in the 'totality of human nature, in mankind as a whole, in creation as a whole,' as theologian Philip Sherrard describes it. In other words, Jesus became incarnate in the body of one person and in the totality of all creation. The Eastern Church describes Jesus as fulfilling a promise present at the beginning of creation and continually present--the promise of God's presence with us. Even if, early Christian writers said, we had never sinned, Christ would still have come to fulfill that promise, out of love" (p. 71)

"Resurrection stories are about allowing ourselves, in spite of pain and suffering, to be vulnerable again to the world. They are about practicing hope, trust, and openness in hospitality as we go through the ordinary acts of life. And, finally, they are about working for the resurrection and liberation of others. Anyone who has made it back from the dead has something profound to teach...Practicing resurrection means choosing to live when death would be easier, to put aside all practices of nonliving, and to let in the world and all its pain, in order, once again, to see its beauty" (p. 125-126).

"The Gospel, writes Gerald Loughlin, 'has always been a story of carnal desire and erotic encounter.' God longs for flesh, for humanity, longs for the connection and, so, for the sake of love and desire, takes on flesh" (p. 170).

"Finding eroticism at the soup kitchen is a tough thing for me to admit. I know that I am supposed to be doing charity work, helping others, practicing being good. But the soup kitchen isn't really any of those things for me. It is the practice of letting my body and spirit to be energized with the presence of others, of learning to let love flow through my hands...The deepest pleasures that I know--and I certainly don't have the definitive word--are fairly simple and involve connectedness to other people. Cooking at the soup kitchen is one for me. This is not an act of 'duty' or 'responsibility.' It's an act of real, sensual pleasure. So is a good long hike and a hot bath after it....an evening making love with my husband, a note of delight in my son's voice...We're talking about the way that God speaks to us through real pleasure and about learning what real pleasure is so we can listen" (p. 170, 176).

[John Adams · Rating 3 out of 5]

Compelling and sometimes harrowing stories of folks whose faith alienated them from their bodies with some brief thoughts about how American Christianity might move toward a more faithful ethic of sexuality and embodiment.

[Ellison · Rating 5 out of 5]

Insightful and occasionally hear-breaking stories about Christians and their physical encounters.

[Krystal · Rating 5 out of 5]

SOOO good!

[Meghan · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5

[Aaron Culley · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is among the most honest accounts I've come across about what it means to be a Christian while at the same time being a human being, which includes being a sexual being. Several people's stories are shared, and all are different, but they all have in common the experience of some aspect of their sexual identity running into a church culture that tends to both idealize and simplify, or in some cases deny the existence of, sexuality.

The author isn't offering any easy solutions or clear answers, and she doesn't suggest "7 steps to purity" or sort of formulaic attempt to simplify our lives and make them fit into neat little theological boxes. She tells the stories of people whose lives are messy. I think that anyone who reads this and is honest will be able to relate to the messiness in their own lives, and to me that is what this book has to offer.

What I found most hopeful is reading about people who still hold on to and even grow in their faith, in spite of the mess that their lives have been in (and in some cases still are), as they encountered a God whose grace transcended their fears and insecurities (in spite what they had been told at church); moreover I was impressed at how these people pursued and grew in their faith in spite of what amounts to various forms of abuse by churches and those who call ourselves Christians.

[Courtney Clawson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book over the last couple weeks, and it was incredible: heartbreaking and inspiring, devastating and encouraging.

Amy Frykholm tells the stories of 9 individuals damaged in some way by narratives of sexuality in Christianity. Many of these people found themselves ostracized from their families or communities due to some sort of sexual behavior, ranging from pre-marital sex or coming out to a pornography addiction or surviving a sexual assault.

A recurring theme in this text that @anneseeblue and I discussed at length was the disparity between perception and reality. Many of the people and families in this book put on a façade of perfection and purity, when the reality of their lives was much messier.

There is also an element of hope in this text, though. Many of the individual stories end on a positive note: they find a new, accepting faith community, they find closure or healing to an emotionally or physically abusive circumstance, or they use their experience to help others.

This is a beautifully real book, about both trauma and redemption. This will stick with me for a long time to come.

[Leslie Fields · Rating 4 out of 5]

Amy Frykholm has done an excellent job presenting these complex narratives of those who have fallen between the lines of sexual identity, and particularly of those who also claim the Christian faith. If anyone thinks gender and sexuality are simple, settled issues, this book will be a necessary wake-up call. While I hold to the authority of the Scriptures on all issues, it's essential to recognize the thorniness of our humanness and genuinely and compassionately wrestle with sexual identity, and what it means to be ourselves. Amy frames the narratives with an incisive and personal introduction and overview of the issues, bookended with more conclusions at the close. Recommended for any group addressing these issues. Also recommend the book be used alongside Janell Paris' The End of Sexual Identity. Both books should be joined by a third, a work of theology to provide some kind of map through the thickets presented. (Recommendation on that title pending!)

[Callie]

I find this book confusing, but thought provoking. I'm not done,but so far it has only been stories of people who were somehow damaged by the church's teachings on sexuality during their formative years. I know there are things that can harm, but is that all there is? Is there no one who's been impacted positively or found something good or transforming from the Bible in regards to sex? This makes me ponder how to teach my own children in future. Maybe the 3rd section will have smthg different. But it's a well written book, the stories are well crafted.

[Joy Matteson · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is a collection of short stories about individuals who have been wounded by various forms of familial Christianity intersecting with their sexuality. In most cases, these stories are filled with pain and remorse, and some offer little hope of change. Yet within the pain and struggle, Christians, especially Christian parents, should be alarmed at how often their children are raised with skewed views of sexuality. If anything, this book should be a warning to parents to start better dialogues about how to model healthy sexuality for their children.

[Charlotte · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book in just a few days--Frykholm tells an engaging and thought-provoking story. At the time, I thought it was "pretty good." But in the last month, I've noticed it popping up again and again in conversations and prayers, leading me to change my rating from 4 to 5 stars. She offers no simple answers or rules to follow. Instead, she invites the reader to step into others' experiences of growing into adulthood. She's a compassionate, skilled writer.

Five stars, it is.

[Aaron Wallentine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good. Touching, heartfelt, perspective-opening. Slightly disappointed that nothing regarding polyamory, breakups, or anything besides the ideal of forever monogamy is discussed, because these are also subjects that touch deeply on humanity and spirituality and often clash with religion. But issues of homosexuality, recovering from sexual abuse and prostitution, and finding healthy sexuality in our confused culture are explored well. Worth the read.

[Shari · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this really quickly, enjoyed it, and would recommend it; it just kind of left me wanting more. (Although maybe "more" would have just felt like "more of the same"?)