The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest University

by Kevin Roose

As a sophomore at Brown University, Kevin Roose didn't have much contact with the Religious Right. Raised in a secular home by staunchly liberal parents, he fit right in with Brown's sweatshop-protesting, fair-trade coffee-drinking, God-ambivalent student body. So when he had a chance encounter with a group of students from Liberty University, a conservative Baptist university in Lynchburg, Virginia, he found himself staring across a massive culture gap. But rather than brush the Liberty students off, Roose decided to do something much bolder: he became one of them.

Liberty University is the late Rev. Jerry Falwell's proudest accomplishment - a 10,000-student conservative Christian training ground. At Liberty, students (who call themselves "Champions for Christ") take classes like Introduction to Youth Ministry and Evangelism 101. They hear from guest speakers like Mike Huckabee and Karl Rove, they pray before every class, and they follow a 46-page code of conduct called "The Liberty Way" that prohibits drinking, smoking, R-rated movies, contact with the opposite sex, and witchcraft. Armed with an open mind and a reporter's notebook, Roose dives into life at Bible Boot Camp with the goal of connecting with his evangelical peers by experiencing their world first-hand.

Roose's semester at Liberty takes him to church, class, and choir practice at Rev. Falwell's Thomas Road Baptist Church. He visits a support group for recovering masturbation addicts, goes to an evangelical hip-hop concert, and participates in a spring break mission trip to Daytona Beach, where he learns how to convert bar-hopping co-eds to Christianity. Roose struggles with his own faith throughout, and in a twist that could only have been engineered by a higher power, he conducts what would turn out to be the last in-depth interview of Rev. Falwell's life. Hilarious and heartwarming, respectful and thought-provoking, Roose's embedded report from the front lines of the culture war will inspire and entertain believers and non-believers alike.

Genres: Nonfiction, Religion, Memoir, Christianity, Biography, Christian, Book Club

324 pages, Hardcover

First published March 12, 2009

About the author

Kevin Roose is an award-winning technology columnist for The New York Times, and the New York Times bestselling author of three books: Futureproof, Young Money, and The Unlikely Disciple.

He is the host of “Rabbit Hole,” a New York Times-produced podcast about internet culture, and a regular guest on “The Daily,” as well as other leading TV and radio shows. He writes and speaks regularly on many topics, including automation and A.I., social media, disinformation and cybersecurity, and digital wellness.

Before joining The Times, he was a writer at New York magazine, and a host and executive producer of "Real Future," a documentary TV series about technology and innovation.

He lives in the Bay Area.

Reviews

[Aaron · Rating 2 out of 5]

Ten years ago Rob Suskind's A Hope in the Unseen followed a poor, religious inner-city kid's struggles at Brown University. Now Brown U. is back with another hip-hop, flip-flop comedy. This time around, we get to see the hijinks of a Brown student going to a religious Southern school. And Kevin Roose manages to learn a lesson of tolerance and hard-fought understanding during the era of the culture war. Yay.

The problem is this book strikes me as incredibly cynical. In part, Roose as a narrator is both calculating and dishonest. He does this stunt explicitly to get a book deal, and it makes me question everything that happens. The narrative seems a bit too pat and marketable to not wonder how much of it has been manipulated. Besides, he spent all of his time at Liberty lying. I think the only reason we have to trust what he says now is his commitment as journalist, and as a 20-year-old who seems more concerned about launching a writing career, this assurance isn't enough.

The distrust deepens as it seems that he has excised large chunks of the real story, such as why best-selling author A.J. Jacobs apparently had to hire a college freshman as his research assistant on the trip to Liberty which began Kevin Roose's whole spiritual journey. My guess it that Roose's well-connected parents set him up with a well-connected author, the scheme for the book was hatched by Jacobs and a publisher, and Roose never writes nothing about it because he spends the majority of his pages carefully crafting the image of himself which he presents the reader. I guess the hours he spends on Facebook (his primary research tool) paid off with that skill.

That this book is best-seller material is somewhat depressing in itself. Roose jokingly compares his time at Liberty as just like spending a semester abroad, but in all honesty that's exactly what this book is in terms of his experiences and the intellectual depth with which he delves. Yet nobody would consider buying a novel of some sophomore's ramblings about Barcelona, but apparently we (the Northern liberal that this book is clearly targeted towards) think Southern Baptists as radically more foreign than anyone living outside our own borders.

The one really strong point of the book is its great pacing, usually a stumbling block for young authors. Maybe these Millennials, growing up on blogs and social networking, will be able to compensate for their lack of intellectual rigor with a great sense of pace. I look forward to an awesome future of rocking summer blockbusters. My suggestion: a pair of identical twins -- one gets sent to Rikers Island, the other matriculates to Brown, and then they HAVE TO SWITCH PLACES. Action-packed laffs for sure.

[Brian · Rating 3 out of 5]

"The Unlikely Disciple" is an interesting book. I believe its greatest flaws are the result of the writer's age. I also think its greatest strengths are the result of the writer's age. This text is for the most part an unbiased and interesting take on one aspect of evangelical Christianity (which is a vast and very diverse subculture) and gives an outsider's undercover inside view. I enjoyed the text a lot, but I wonder if I got more out of it because I understand the evangelical culture, being raised in church, more than readers who have no Christian upbringing? I am not sure.
In short, Mr. Roose decides that he has no understanding of fundamentalist Christianity as a result of his uber liberal upbringing, and rather than be one of the intolerant "tolerant" liberal elite decides to find out for himself the truth behind what he has assumed or been told. The result is a semester being a student at Liberty University in Virginia, the college started by the late Dr. Jerry Falwell.
There are moments in "The Unlikely Disciple" that are quite profound and theologically interesting, and Roose seems to be very honest about the power of Christian living and the attraction that it holds. However, the text also suffers from some rather insipid and pedantic observations made by Roose that I believe are expressly the result of his age. There are parts of the text that reek of the "philosophical" discussions we all had while sitting around with our friends drunk in the dorms thinking that we were being "deep." They detract from the text because they are so jarring and contradict (in terms of quality) the better parts of the book.
The text also slides between embracing and detracting from the faith and belief of the Liberty community. Roose often contradicts himself, usually on the same page. This may prove frustrating to some readers, but I did not mind it (for the most part) simply because the gamut of thought and emotion seems to be part of religious faith for many people. One thing I found particularly interesting was that the most unlikable (and I believe) bigoted people mentioned in the text are polar opposites. Roose has a homophobic and mean spirited roommate who I find disgusting. He also mentions frequently two lesbian aunts, who I found to be just as bigoted and small minded about people not like them. I don't think this was a purposeful contrast that the author tried to create, but it is there, and I have talked to others who read this book that thought the same thing.
All in all an interesting text and one that I am glad I read. It is hard to come across a book that deals with the religious divide that is mostly impartial, but "The Unlikely Disciple" comes close, and it is to be celebrated for that.

[Daniel Bastian · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Here's what worries me the most: I came to Liberty to humanize people. Because humanizing people is good, right? But what about people with reprehensible views? Do they deserve to be humanized? By giving Jerry Falwell's universe a fair look, am I putting myself in his shoes? Or am I really just validating his worldview? I ask myself these questions and more for hours, and when I calm down, I reach this conclusion: humanizing is not the same as sympathizing. You can peel a stereotype off a person and not see a beautiful human being underneath. In fact, humanity can be very ugly."

Paging through Kevin Roose's experiences in Evangelicalville was like a trip down memory lane. While I did not attend Liberty University, I was reared in an identical culture, where fundamentalist attitudes reigned supreme. Where preservation of dogma was paramount. Where absolutist certainty was all but demanded and gray areas of belief decried as a warning sign of pending spiritual failure. Where words like evolution, Darwin, the Big Bang and even science itself were considered evil and subversive. Where being a Christian also meant voting conservative.

Yes, this is an environment with which I'm all too familiar. Thankfully, I did not end up spending my college years at what Roose dubs in his subtitle "America's Holiest University". I know several who did, however, and I can say unreservedly that Roose's portrait in The Unlikely Disciple is not in the least a misrepresentation or caricature. If anything, it's too balanced, and that's quite an accomplishment for someone emigrating from Brown University.

How does someone raised in a secular family and enrolled in an Ivy League institution end up transplanting himself to its antithesis in nearly every major respect? The early outlines of the idea formed while interning for A. J. Jacobs on Jacobs' book The Year of Living Biblically. Roose realized that there is a subculture in America with whom he had never really interfaced: the religious right. You hear about them all the time on the news and in satirical send-ups by liberal media, but there's a difference between drawing your verdict from secondhand voices on the one hand and first-person experience on the other. He decided that going incognito to live among them, immersing himself in their inner society, would be an effective way to bridge the gap. And who knows, maybe his story could change how each side views the other and help moderate the bickering to an acceptable volume.

Much to his family's chagrin, Roose's application was accepted and he took his academic pursuits south of the Mason-Dixon line to Liberty University—the bastion of evangelicalism itself. At the time, the school belonged to Jerry Falwell, the same incendiary televangelist-cum-segregationist who campaigned against MLK, Jr. in the 1950s and 60s, who blamed 9/11 on feminists, abortionists, gays, pagans and the ACLU, and who frequently referred to AIDS as "God's punishment for the society that tolerates homosexuals."

With the Falwell era in full bloom, Roose found himself in what could properly be labeled the epicenter of Christian fundamentalism, a mini-kingdom dedicated to churning out warriors for God who could defend the values of the Christian right against an encroaching secular-liberal hegemony. This was no Brown. Putting up a credible façade around his new ultra-religious classmates would not be easy.

If culture shock was on the agenda, he certainly came to the right place. Draconian injunctions against R-rated films and all physical contact with the opposite sex (outside of hand-holding); weekly Bible studies, daily prayer sessions and omnipresent invocations of Jesus fever; courses that felt less like education than Christian apologetics, more sermonic and indoctrinational than didactic; surplus doses of Adam-and-Eve-based "science," homophobia-ridden expletives and rhetoric laden with allusions to hell. It's all here, and having been an insider for so long I can only imagine how alien Liberty must have felt to an observer outside the fold.

A lesser individual might have treated this as a faultfinding mission to be spun into an acerbic exposé on the backwardness of conservative Christianity. Roose chooses the higher road. Far from the minimally participative bystander, he invests his time in all of the extracurricular activities his schedule can accommodate. He befriends members of his Bible study and carries on late-night discussions with his hallmates. He goes on dates with chaste Christian girls. He joins the choir at Thomas Road Baptist Church and proselytizes spring-breakers on Floridian beaches. He even meets with a spiritual mentor once a week in which his masturbation habits tend to come up with irregular frequency. You know, normal college stuff, minus the Jesus-stuffed diet.

While Roose came mentally equipped for the fervorous religiosity, his semester away wasn't without its surprises. Like any school, one can find a diversity of views strolling the halls, and Liberty is no exception. Roose encounters several students during his time there who don't fit the mold Liberty has prepared for them: feminists, a small but closeted gay community, students who find creationism incoherent at best, who stubbornly refuse to toe the 'climate change is a global hoax' party line, who aren't militantly homophobic and don't believe same-sex attraction is morally suspect, and who sincerely question the values and political dispositions of the university's leadership. His exchanges with these nonconformists were enlightening and will be appreciated by those exploring a more progressive faith.

The Structure of Fundamentalism

Offensive, comical and rebarbative all at the same time, many may wonder how such a community can survive under the duress of modernity. As a former evangelical with a foot in both sides of the pond, I know the mentality well. More than anything else, institutions like Liberty are interested in the doctrinaire attachment to an ideology. Their dogma is a thinly veiled version of Christian dominionism. Any information deemed in conflict with said dogma is viscerally suppressed; inconvenient facts are pushed aside and only addressed once they become too difficult to ignore.

Fundamentalist communities are thus arranged so as to propagate internal views at the expense of external ones. Within the propagandistic bubble, only views consistent with the prevailing dogma are given any weight. Its members are fastened, often without a weighing of alternatives, to a system that valorizes ignorance and trammels free thought. They are not aware they are 'suckers' bred on intellectual deprivation, any more than fish are aware of the oxygen outside the fishbowl.

This basic schematic maps well to several pockets of Christian fundamentalism and churches dotting the American landscape, even if its application to today's Liberty loses some precision. Towards the end of the book, Roose learns through his continued communications with Liberty students that the school has grown a bit more lax in the ideology department following Falwell's departure. Given the extreme contrast between the late reverend's views and those of mainstream America, we can only hope this was inevitable.

Closing Thoughts

Possibly the defining introspective work of our generation, Roose's sojourn turned memoir is an honest, transparent, balanced look into a cultural divide that seems more unbridgeable by the year. His stay at Liberty was attended by no shortage of disheartening revelations, including run-ins with narrow views on sexual ethics, gender and race, rampant (faculty-encouraged) homophobia, and distortions of inconvenient science, all sentiments deeply rooted in American culture and for which Liberty is but an emblem.

But contrary to what might be expected from its gimmicky-sounding premise, Roose doesn't spend the length of the book razzing de-intellectualized Bible-belters who max out on the Christian Richter scale. Roose stepped into the shoes of an evangelical to learn about their beliefs, values and traditions, and came away with so much more. He found that on the surface there is much that separates the evangelical community from the rest of American society, but scratch below that surface and you find a lot more commonality than polarizing media profiles would suggest.

This is easily one of the best books I've ever read, perhaps because it hits so close to home. Roose's closing words in the epilogue continue to resonate with me.

"At the end of the day, the two sides of this culture war still have glaring differences, and those differences are likely to continue to define the relationship between the evangelical community and America at large for decades to come. Humans have always quarreled over religious beliefs, and I suppose they always will. But judging from my post-Liberty experience, this particular conflict isn't built around a hundred-foot brick wall. If anything, it's built around a flimsy piece of cardboard, held in place on both sides by paranoia and lack of exposure. It's there, no doubt, but it's hardly forbidding. And more important, it's hardly soundproof. Religious conflict might be a basic human instinct, but I have faith, now more than ever before, that we can subvert that instinct for long enough to listen to each other." (p. 315)

Note: This review is republished from my official website.

[D. · Rating 3 out of 5]

Let me start off by saying that I did like this book...I thought that Roose had some interesting insights into evangelical Christianity and this wasn't the "Evangelical Bashing" I thought it would be. I laughed at some of his confusion over things I grew up with...I understood how some things looked to him as an outsider. All in all, I think the book is a fascinating read.

With that said...here is what inherently bothers me/concerns me about the book:

1. Roose was clearly writing for different audiences. He says he has a liberal family (repetitively mentioning their concerns with his experiment), lesbian aunts, and a book deal already in the works. Then he actually became friends with his Liberty schoolmates, found Falwell (gasp) non-evil in person, and had powerful moments of self-discovery. It's all too shiny and nice to be true. I believe there was probably a good deal of "writing for people" that occurred with this nineteen year-old's project. When I was 19 year-old journalist at my school paper, I was pretty full of myself, but I also got to interview some higher ups in my college. I always wanted to please them. I get this type of Disneyland cleanliness from Roose. Doesn't want to piss anyone off - and why would he? Piss off the liberals AND the evangelicals? Where is your book buying audience? Keep it walking the line between clearly offending anyone and I think you have what Roose has -- a calculated lie meant to sell books.

2. There was an agenda here: To write a book. Journalists with agendas write awesome stuff sometimes...but it's hard to know how much of what is written STILL isn't a clear view. He purposefully infiltrated groups on campus so he could write about them in the book. What comes to mind is meeting with the pastor who counsels homosexuals at Liberty. And then he went to the group with men dealing with masturbation? I mean...that meeting had six men in it? So, is it representative of what "Christian Evangelicals" are dealing with? Hardly.

3. It doesn't matter how you read it. Kevin Roose thinks most evangelical Christians are academically backwards. He specifically says that he could accept Jesus Christ as his savior before he could convert to young earth creationism or a religion that "bashes homosexuals". He just took those populations of believers and made them into the whole -- NOT recognizing the other population of believers who believe in the Big Bang and accept that perhaps "6 days" may not be literally 6 days. And there are a lot of them out there. There are also Christians out there who are not as distinctly homophobic as EVERY SINGLE PERSON he met at Liberty. Seriously. Seems like Roose is throwing the baby out with the bath water.

[La Petite Américaine · Rating 1 out of 5]

So, you know what happens when you take a liberal arts school student and throw him in the mix with the boys at Jerry Falwell's Liberty University, a school where the dorms are segregated and residents have a curfew? Well, gee, whaddaya know, "what boys always do" happens: they sit around and play video games, talk about women and sex, they do their homework and contemplate their futures. Oh, and throw some prayer in, too, because it's a Christian University.

And what a shocker! Not all the students are as straight-laced as the school would have them, while others are complete biggots. Why, in fact, they're a mixed bag, pretty much like you'd get in any other university in America. Oh, and surprise! The science classes teach creationism because it's a religious school, and well, gee, the students who believe in creationism seem to just eat that right up. Yet, there are still some private dissenters. WOW!

This ethnography is so vague that it literally could have been about any social group in any institution in the world. In other words? It's piss poor.

Boring.

Tedious.

Took nothing away from it other than Jerry Falwell was a money-making evil genius.

SUCKED.

[Jeanette (Ms. Feisty) · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love immersion journalism when it's done well. I'm mightily impressed by this Kevin Roose kid. He's funny, respectful, bold, thoughtful, and a darned good writer.

At age 19, Roose decided he wanted to cross the "God Divide" that separates secular kids from ultra-religious ones. After a crash course in evangelical culture from a formerly evangelical friend, he spent a semester undercover at Jerry Falwell's Liberty University (a misnomer if ever there was one). He completely immersed himself in campus activities, pretending to be one of "them" in every possible way. How does one pretend to be a Liberty evangelical? Here are just a few of Kevin's activities:

1) Singing in Falwell's Thomas Road Church choir every Sunday. This meant being on national TV every week.

2) Participating in a week-long spring break mission trip to Daytona Beach, Florida. They approached revelers on beaches and streets and invited them to accept Jesus. (This made me cringe for him. How embarrassing!)

3) Attending required courses such as History of Life, in which students are taught that Noah's ark was like a floating skyscraper that was large enough to carry dinosaurs. The professor suggested that they could have been "teenage dinosaurs," so as to take up less space. (This nearly made me spit out my crackers!)

4)Attending a meeting of a campus men's group called Every Man's Battle, where they openly discuss their struggles with masturbation and pornography.

5)Dating a variety of girls on campus in order to experience dating the "Liberty Way." Hand-holding the only acceptable form of physical contact. No hugs lasting more than a second or two. No kissing allowed, not even on the cheek.

6)Conducting a private interview with Jerry Falwell and writing an article on the good ol' boy for the campus newspaper.

All of this, and much more, Kevin did with a straight face and an open mind, with no intent to mock or ridicule. He ended up making some good friends and discovered that evangelical kids, however misguided, are a lot more like him and his secular college buddies than he would ever have imagined.

The book is both entertaining and educational. Roose's reportage is impressively fair and even-handed, with equal weight given to positive and negative aspects of his experience.

[Sally · Rating 4 out of 5]

The subtitle on this book irks me, but it also effectively demonstrates the crux of the author's problem: a basic misunderstanding of what faith is about. As I read about his semester "underground" at Liberty University, I kept wondering about the conversations that hadn't made it into the book. Surely he knows that everyone at Liberty--everyone in the WORLD--is a sinner, according to the Bible? So he's not the only one there. And to call Liberty "America's Holiest University" is a misnomer. More like "one of America's most legalistic Christian universities". The legalism and rules bothered him, but I wondered if anyone had explained to him that Christians are called to be holy, and that is the way that some people approach holiness, the flip side of the antinomian crowd. I wondered if anyone had told him that the Bible is God's Word, and so we align ourselves with it, not the other way around. He seemed to think that the whole scene was something people made up to suit themselves, or to torture others with, and I suppose it might look that way without the Holy Spirit's influence. I'm glad he saw the joy that others experience as a result of their relationship with God, and I hope he finds that joy himself some day. I appreciate this description of his experience; it helped me to think carefully about how I live out my faith and how I talk about it with unbelievers.

[Cheryl · Rating 5 out of 5]

After recently wondering aloud what book I should read next, my sister (we’re both agnostic) recommended, yet again, that I read The Unlikely Disciple. I basically know nothing about the Bible or Christianity (I groan and can’t even begin to guess at the correct answers when “The Bible” is a category on Jeopardy), so I thought this book might be mildly interesting and entertaining, but worried it would be a long, slow read. Boy, was I wrong. I found this book fascinating and finished it in two days. I had no idea what evangelical Christianity was about, knew the name Jerry Falwell and had heard of Liberty, but beyond that, nothing.

The book details how Kevin Roose, a not really practicing Quaker, leaves liberal Brown University in Rhode Island to attend a semester, undercover, at evangelical Liberty University in Virginia in an attempt to bridge, as he puts it, the God Divide (though I’m sure the book deal at 19 didn’t hurt either).

Roose gives us an inside look at what goes on at Liberty, from classes and church services to extracurricular activities and dorm life. But it’s more than that. We find out about some of the people that are fundamental Christians (or are on the path to becoming one); people most of us might never meet unless they were trying to witness (aka convert) us. I really liked the fact that Roose threw himself into his semester at Liberty wholeheartedly, despite the fact that he disagreed with many of things he heard and saw, and that he kept an open mind about everything.

There was plenty about Liberty that annoyed me and, at times, boggled my mind from the intolerance, the way students weren’t supposed to question anything in the Bible, the almost obsessive compulsive praying over anything and everything and don’t get me started on the classes (yes, Dr. Dekker, I’m talking about yours). However, I really found myself liking and feeling for some of the students there (Though I think a few are working on ulcers worrying about how all of us heathens are going to try and corrupt them as soon as they enter the real world). Speaking of intolerance, I found myself kind of ticked off with the reactions of a good deal of Roose’s secular, liberal friends and family. When he finally fessed up to his friends and former mentors and classmates at Liberty, they still liked and accepted him, while it was obvious that his supposedly open-minded friends and family would have derided him if he’d told them how he really felt about his time at Liberty.

Overall, this is a great read, with lots of humor and insight. Roose did a fantastic, balanced job of telling us what life at Liberty is like, without turning it into a farce or a bashing of evangelical Christianity. Highly recommended.

[Anja · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars
I really really enjoyed this book and the topics it tackled. I loved the empathy Roose created and expressed for both sides and got you to relate very well.
You should give this one a shot, no matter if you are christian or not, you will definitely get some inside out of this one.

[Bonnie G. · Rating 4 out of 5]

I very very rarely listen to podcasts, but Kevin Roose's Hard Fork is an exception. It is an excellent window into our tech future. Since I spend the majority of my life thinking and talking about that, especially the way tech impacts law and the future of attorney work, I look for things to spark new discussion points. Roose is good at that. The subject of this book could not be more different than that of Hard Fork, but his perspective is still one of intellectual curiosity, and as it turns out it is also a subject of lifelong fascination for me.

Roose wrote The Unlikely Disciple when he was a 19 year-old Brown student. (My focus was 100% sex, drugs and rock 'n roll so I am awed by Roose's focus and enterprise.) After visiting Liberty University while interning for the writer A.J. Jacobs, who was researching his Year of Living Biblically, Roose took a term off from Brown and enrolled at Liberty. He worked undercover, learning the bible chapter and verse, soaking in the specifics of the "facts" of creationism, attending church, singing in the choir, harassing people (the Liberty folks would say saving their souls) who were just trying to enjoy the day, and making friends who were entertaining and engaging people, people I liked spending time with and coming to understand. Some of them helped me better understand my evangelical friends, and that is a great thing.

I enjoyed the read, learned from it, and was pleased to see a book where someone reported on what he found rather than on his point-of-view. Roose came to inform rather than to judge. There were times when the writing was not as elegant as I know Roose's writing to be now. For instance, he kept reintroducing people the reader already knew. Every time he talked about his unhinged roommate he gave a recap of who he was and things he had done in the past, same with Anna, a girl he dated at Liberty, and a few others. On the other hand, many of the things I liked about this book were contingent on it having been written by a 19-year-old and the slightly immature writing was a small price to pay for the advantages of that teenage view. Roose was an unusually smart, compassionate, curious, and open-minded 19-year-old, but still very much 19, and the inner life of this almost-adult was compelling apart from the core subject matter. Roose wrestles with his need to deceive these people, some of whom became his friends, in order to do his job. He is also troubled by what his Brown friends will think and how his growing relationships and respect for aspects of the Liberty Way impact his friends and family who are LGBTQ+, women, and non-Christains whom Jerry Falwell regularly attacked and whose lives he worked hard for years to destroy. (He takes heart from his naive perception that the growth in acceptance for LGBTQ+ people and the continuing strength of Roe v. Wade as the law of the land show that Falwell was unsuccessful and that makes him more charitable toward the evangelicals -- obviously a few years later they have won and the safety and autonomy of women and trans and nonbinary people as well and others on the Queer spectrum has been torn to shreds so he might feel differently now.) These struggles, journalistic integrity, what part of our worldview and convictions comes from the need to please and respect friends and family, the divide between people's hearts and their politics, decisions about where friends and family fit into our lives when their needs are at odds with our work, turned out for me to be as interesting as the core subject matter of the book. That surprised me as did the resolution to some of those questions (most of which surprised me in a good way.)

I am very glad to have read this one and recommend it.

[Kyle · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excuse me. Yes, you. I’m sorry, do you have a minute? I just… no, I’m not selling anything. I just wanted to take a minute to share how I came to faith in Kevin Roose.

See, I consider myself a Christian. I was brought up in a protestant household, went to church every week, dressed up and sang the songs. I was just a part of the group, an operator in the fullest sense of connecting from the earth to the heavens.

But one day, I was struck by the realization that not everyone was like me. Not everyone even wanted to be a part of this group, and some even outright disliked the group I was a part of. I felt bruised, but more, I felt like if this was the case, then somewhere, something had gone wrong. I was depressed and bewildered.

Left in this nebulous cloud, I found a copy of Roose’s “The Unlikely Disciple,” upon the recommendation of a few of my “outside” friends. I started tentatively after reading about his background and where he intended to spend a semester. Liberty University isn’t near and dear to my heart by any stretch, but I know several people who attended there. “Geez, not only is this kid from Brown,” I thought,”he’s intelligent. This book is going to be just page after page of riffing on creationism and hermeneutics.”

I’m going to be honest, sir, I came in skeptical. I came in thinking that there was no way these groups could be peacefully reconciled and still make anything even close to an entertaining read. At best, it could be a completely neutered journal. At worst, it would be venomous.

Then Kevin Roose’s life touched my own. I don’t mean the heavens opened up – no angels sang or beams of light shone. I mean, his clear journalistic style and what’s more, his honesty in his experience showed me what had been missing all along. I poured through the book in a few days, eager to share, grimacing over some of the gross illogic at Liberty and being continually amazed that Roose blends so well with a group that tries so hard to be exclusive. He managed to compile what seems to me like the truest account, almost an ethnography, of the world of intense Christian youth. He pushed to reach into others’ lives and become a part of the experience, and along the way showed that the thing that’s missing in both groups – in all groups, really – is honest communication.

Roose’s sincere investment into those lives and insightful commentary on his own experience and those of others gave me hope. Though he’s not a religious writer (and, truth be told, I’m not that heavily invested), I’m certainly following his work. Just the idea that a writer is able to be so bold in his notes and still keep his mind sensitive and, more importantly, his own, lets me look forward to a time when more of us can honestly talk without cutting into each other.

And so I’d like to ask now if you’d be interested in letting Kevin Roose into your life, just taking a couple minutes and even reading the book jacket, just the back cover?

Oh – you, oh, you’re still working through those Twilight books. No, I understand. Next time, perhaps.

[Mirjam · Rating 1 out of 5]

Wow, man, did you know that orthodox Christians are people just like us filthy, filthy atheists?

This book would be interesting if you've never had an actual conversation with a conservative orthodox Christian, probably. Our man Kevin goes to Liberty University, where he attends classes on creationism and the like, because this is a Christian university (wow! shock! gasp!). Dorms are segregated (by gender, but the majority of students are white, yes). He even talks to a priest about stopping masturbating, because it's sinful. Apparently, the results of this experiment are that he, "surprisingly," feels more focused and alert.

Well, in the interest of science, I tried out that little experiment myself. Nah, can't recommend. Unless you have a sex addiction or are spending the majority of your day jerking off, you're fine. Clearly our buddy Kevin had never heard of the concept of post-nut clarity.

Anyway, the point is that our pal Kevin discovers that these super-religious students, pretty much all of whom are in their late teens or early 20s, are Just Like Us. The guys our friend Kevin hangs out with do normal things like eat junk food and play video games and talk about hot girls. He finds out that misogynists and homophobes exist across all walks of life (it's not just the religious right, let me tell you!), and he finds out that he has a lot more in common with these conservative Christian kids than he'd previously thought (because, surprise! we're all people, and we all have more in common with each other than not). He also learned that not everyone who outwardly claims to adhere isn't secretly an inner dissenter, which could be said of legitimately any social group ever.

The ethnographic research is too vague to be useful if you've any experience whatsoever studying social sciences, or any experience whatsoever meaningfully interacting with people whose opinions and beliefs contradict your own.

[Larry Bassett · Rating 3 out of 5]

Can a young man immerse himself in an alien culture without it having an impact upon him? Can a liberal Brown University student transfer to the fundamentalist Christian Liberty University, living in a Liberty dorm for a semester and participating in all the student experiences, and come out unchanged? He is not saved in his four month experiment but he is radically changed. Yikes! This is a fascinating first person experience in what I would call indoctrination or maybe even brainwashing.

Almost a month into my Liberty semester, I’m already starting to feel my beliefs shifting under my feet. Not my belief in evolution – I’ve stayed put on that – but when it comes to my general intellectual and emotional grounding, I’m feeling a little unmoored.
. . .
I didn’t come to Liberty to get a new religion, of course. I came here to spend time with the practitioners of another faith, to learn how they lived. But it was crazy of me to expect that I could situate myself among these people twenty-four hours a day, befriend them, and adopt their mannerisms without also internalizing and grappling with their beliefs.

I can relate to the experience. I have lived in Lynchburg for almost eleven years now. The culture shock that I experienced when I first moved here is much less intense. Something has changed. Now, over the decade, it is possible that the temper of the times has changed at least a little bit. But the Letters to the Editor in the local paper still can occasionally shock me with the Bible Belt rhetoric.

Here’s what worries me the most: I came to Liberty to humanize people. Because humanizing people is good, right? But what about people with reprehensible views? Do they deserve to be humanized? By giving Jerry Falwell’s moral universe a fair look, am I putting myself in his shoes? Or am I really just validating his worldview? . . . Where’s the limit to open-mindedness?

I think these are tough questions and I wonder about them myself as I read along with Kevin Roose.

What do students at Liberty do in their spare time?

You’d think that after a full day of sermons, Bible lessons, and prayer groups, the guys on my hall would be sick of talking about religion, but most nights after curfew, you can find dozens of conversations about every theological issue under the sun. In the past few nights, I’ve heard guys hashing out theories of salvation, discussing the book of Revelation, and debating the biblical stances on everything from alcohol use to capital punishment.

How is Kevin feeling?

I still don’t feel like I fit in here, for reasons too numerous and obvious to list. But, against all odds, I’m starting to have a good time. I suppose I’m just going through the same process as anyone touching down in a foreign land would – acclimating, coping, making lemonade out of lemons. This might not be true happiness I’m feeling. But for now, it’s enough.

Has he subjected himself to brainwashing that is working? Once when he away from campus with relatives “things happened inside my head all night that definitely wouldn’t have happened six months ago.”

I didn’t pray before eating my chicken tempura at the restaurant, and it made me vaguely uneasy for the next twenty minutes. I saw two men walking hand in hand on the way to the parking deck, and I did an incredulous triple take, staring much longer than politesse would dictate. Most disturbing was when we went on a post-dinner stroll around Beirne’s neighborhood. I saw a group of high school-age kids sitting on a stoop, and the first thing that flashed through my mind, before I could quash it, was: are they saved?

He thinks: “All semester, I’ve been worried about getting in over my head at Liberty, but what if it’s too late?” I realize that I am not enjoying experiencing his worry by reading this book. Hmmm. I wonder what that means? Do I fear the experience of being sucked in?

Just in case you were wondering, Kevin Roose does go to see Pastor Rick who does the “same-sex attraction” counseling for forty gay male Liberty students. Being gay is, of course, a sin as I am sure we know from the Bible. Kevin also decides to work on cutting back on his masturbation.

I am about two-thirds of the way through the book and I am starting to dislike Kevin Roose. He seems less and less like a guy I could ever call a friend even though I did some sincere searching for the right religion myself when I was his age.

For the first two months of the semester, going to Thomas Road [Baptist Church] on Sundays was one of the highlights of my week.
. . .
I like the feeling of being prayed for. I like setting aside regular intervals of time to pray and read the Bible.
. . .
So this week, I committed myself to praying for half an hour a day, an amount of time my Evangelism 101 professor recommended.

Ugh! Not my thing. Really not my thing.

But maybe I need to try to take the attitude of Kevin’s lesbian aunt Tina:

“It’s natural to connect with people on a human level, even if you do disagree with everything they say.” She added, “You do disagree with everything they say, right?”

I feel like I am disappointing my daughter Anna who recommended this book to me. She gave the book five stars. I started this book thinking it was going to be a bit of a lark. It turns out that Kevin was pretty serious in his quest to experience and to understand the fundamentalist belief system. I have been known to say that horrible politicians might still be nice people, good grandparents, for example. But I am not ready to wish the Liberty University ilk on anyone. Three stars for giving me something to think about but I am a long, long way from converted. I have a goal of passing this book on to someone who believes in young-earth creationism. They are in the vicinity.

[Marie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I could not put this book down.

Kevin Roose, an Ivy League-educated liberal agnostic with a Quaker upbringing, decided that instead of doing a semester abroad like everyone else at Brown University, he would explore a different culture right here in the U.S.A., that of evangelical Christianity.

He spent a semester somewhat undercover at Liberty University, which was founded by Rev. Jerry Falwell. His parents and in particular, his lesbian aunts, were very worried about his decision to consort with the enemy. They worried that he would be outed as a liberal, or worse, become converted and change entirely.

Although Roose found much to trouble him (blatant homophobia, subtle and not-so-subtle racism, pure disregard for science and history, and sexist attitudes toward women, men, and marriage), he also found himself making friends. He realized that not all evangelical Christians are as conservative or straightforward as he had thought. He discovered that he actually envied their passion and the deeper meaning and purpose in their lives. He found that living a "cleaner" college life (without alcohol or partying) resulted in feeling a whole lot healthier. He actually enjoyed some of his religion classes, and found himself challenged by some of the curriculum (while other classes were hopelessly full of defenses of the bible vs. science and other academic truths). He made some great friends with people whose company he truly enjoyed, even though their backgrounds and beliefs were very different.

Beyond classes and university life, his adventures included going on a spring break trip to Daytona Beach to attempt to convert the partying heathens; going on dates with evangelical girls (one of whom he becomes very attached to, and decides to stop seeing because he realizes he's not being honest with her); singing in the massive choir at Jerry Falwell's enormous church; going to see a pastor/professor who specializes in helping gay men conquer their sexual orientation; interviewing Jerry Falwell for a university magazine article and finding that he could be charming as well as infuriating; and being actually moved by Falwell's death, when he saw the way the community reacted to the event. (Falwell died a few days before the end of the semester.)He also had a violently homophobic roommate who was convinced that Roose was gay (if only because he didn't join in the homophobic taunts), and Roose actually began fearing for his safety during his time there.

What I liked about this book is that it shows us that if everyone can find some common ground, perhaps we would all understand each other a little better. Roose did not get "born again" when he was at Liberty. His aunts, parents, and Brown friends were relieved when he left.

As of publication, Kevin Roose was a senior at Brown. The fact that he could write such a compelling, well-written book, combined with his ability to keep his mouth shut and stay somewhat undercover during his semester "abroad," means that he will be a much better journalist than I ever could be.

I will always remember sitting in a bible study during my freshman year at PLU (which attracted a lot of evangelical Christians because it was a Christian university), and the other girls were expressing worry that some of their friends would go to hell. I said that my best friend from high school was Jewish (and turned out to be gay, as well), and I didn't believe for one second that a loving God would send him to hell. We got into a heated debate, and I never went back. This was essential for my sanity and well-being...but perhaps not so good for the hope of everyone understanding each other's viewpoints better. I find that I do not have patience to get into heated debates with other people, especially if I sense that the other person does not respect my opinion.

Roose, however, was respectful and open to being changed by the experience. If every person could spend 3 to 4 months in another culture, religion, or environment, we would be a more peaceful world, because we would understand each other just a tiny bit more. And that would be a wonderful thing. I look forward to reading more of Kevin Roose in the future.

[Amanda · Rating 5 out of 5]

I picked up this book out of blatant intrigue, but was filled with doubt at what I would find. I expected a bashing of Liberty University and a mockery of their rules and conduct codes. I mean...come on, a 19 year old Brown student decides to just head to one of the most conservative colleges in the country to study it's culture? An extreme liberal going ultra conservative? What I found, was the exact opposite of what I expected. Roose wrote an incredibly mature and open-minded account of the experiences he had, the people he encountered, and the courses/rules/daily life of Liberty without the bashing I had intended to read.

I was completely swallowed up in this book from the very beginning, intrigued by why students decide to go to Liberty, just how many disagree with it's incredibly controversial founder Jerry Falwell, and the level of doubt by some of the students. One would think, having chose to go to Liberty, all of the students would be devout Christians, literally living out God's word, but plenty of them are more liberal than one would believe. And some are definite extremists.

Roose's writing is amazingly mature for his age and I truly enjoyed reading his work. I learned a lot about the culture I suppose I identify with, being a Christian, though I also learned why I would definitely not be the right fit at Liberty (though I would like to take some of the courses offered) and how much I still disagree with the teachings of Jerry Falwell. Watching the author grow into a more spiritual individual was heart warming and I really loved that he questioned constantly, throughout the entire journey. That made his experience feel real and honest.

I love, love, love this book...and not simply because I'm a Christian. This is a sociological study in cultures (which is what my Bachelor's degree happens to be in). Anyone with an interest in religion and how some Christians spend their college experiences should read this. It's interesting, funny, thought-provoking, and informative, all while being well-written and honest.

Overall rating: 5 out 5
My first 5 of the year! I can't wait to see what else Kevin Roose decides to write about in the future. Very talented!

[Brian Eshleman · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a great book from a great writer. It takes a brave and mature soul to put oneself in the middle of a subject like this, and from a reader's perspective, it is worth the effort. Most people venturing into a culture to which theirs is juxtaposed would be looking for self-justification and material force – especially at 20. But when this author decides on this adventure, he is all in. He reads books for background, and he really listens to the perspective that his classmates have. He is really immersing himself in another world.

Doing that well enough as an interested social scientist or cultural commentator is probably enough to get a five-star review for me, especially since I am very interested in the cultural divide between secular norms, followers of Christ, and some odd hybrid of something called Christian culture that has little or nothing to do with what Christ actually taught. The author venturing into this subject might be enough, but he actually tells a compelling story. What 20-year-old can make himself a character in his own story and not come off as egotistical?! This author does it, though. He manages throughout to give the benefit of the doubt to the other "characters" in his story, to assign the best possible motives to them, and to hold onto his own assumptions very lightly. Not only does he develop compelling characters, but he tells their story so well that he manages to build suspense in what otherwise could have been dry and only occasionally interesting material.

This book is of such a high quality that I want to continue to follow this author. If God, ironically, has blessed him with this kind of insight at this age, I cannot wait to see what Roose's eyes continue to be open to throughout his journey. I pray he continues to be intellectually honest as people continue to sing his praises as I am here and as he begins to reap the considerable financial rewards that can be his for such good writing but can begin to lock an author into status quo thinking. Kevin Roose, should God show you a burning bush at 40, I hope you will have the open-mindedness Moses did to turn aside and to hear what He would say.

[Jessica · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's inexcusable that this book sat so long on my to-read shelf, as it was a joy to read. It's genuinely mind-blowing that Roose wrote this book while still in college, because his writing — his turns of phrase, humor, and well-placed quotes from his research — ranks up there with the best of other memoirs I've read. I had to go back and confirm that he didn't have a co-writer, one of those people credited as "with So-and-So" on the cover who polish the writing. But no — Roose is just that talented.

The gist, in a nutshell, is that Roose took a semester off from Brown University to spend at Liberty University in order to better understand evangelical culture. He grew up in a liberal, nominally Quaker home, so Liberty is truly an immersion into a different world for him. At times his liberal credentials seem almost farcical, like his gay-rights crusading lesbian aunts or his cousin who grew up playing a Monopoly knockoff called "Class Struggle."

The book strikes a balance that I appreciated as a non-evangelical person of faith. Roose is understandably horrified at the parts of his education that fly in the face of science and common sense, like the class on young-earth creationism, but he never mocks his classmates for their genuine faith in God. He also throws himself completely into the Liberty experience, including joining the church choir and going on a spring break trip to aggressively evangelize to beachgoers at Daytona. Along the way he documents his conflicted feelings, both about his general deception of being a writer undercover and about whether appreciating the kindness and goodness of his classmates and teachers is akin to condoning their homophobic viewpoints.

Roose was in college the same time I was (though he's a couple years younger), so that was an unexpected bonus, getting to reminisce about when Facebook was for college students only or remembering the ramp-up to the 2008 election. I did not, however, remember the date of Jerry Falwell's death, so that event was a shocking conclusion to Roose's semester there.

The book was at turns fascinating, amusing, enlightening, and confirming of my own thoughts and beliefs. I think there's a lot to reap from it, whether you grew up evangelical or have never met an evangelical. I recommend it.

[Nicole · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a well-written, interesting book. Roose, a self-described unchurched liberal attended Liberty University for a semester, an ultra-conservative Christian school in order to get to know the type of person who would choose such a school. On the plus side, Roose is very open-minded and personable. He is surprised how well he fits in and how normal his classmates are. On the negative side, he makes up a Christian testimony so that he blends in and so that his new friends will be totally unguarded. I say that this is negative because he almost never mentions Jesus, grace, or the need for salvation. I assume his friends never talked to him about these things because they assumed he already knew about them. It is no surprise, then, that Roose talks about having "the form of religion without the content" and that he longs for the peace that his dorm mates exhibit. (He enjoys prayer meetings, even though he doesn't believe in the One being prayed to.) One glaring oversight on Roose's part is his hang up with the "homophobia" at Liberty. (I have never understood that term, as not agreeing with something is not the same thing as being afraid of it.) He just can't get past the fact that his friends, who are kind, articulate, and funny, believe the Bible when it says that homosexual behavior is sinful. On the other hand, he doesn't find it strange at all that his secular friends and family assume the worst about his Christian friends and faculty, but are totally unwilling to examine their prejudice against Christians (Christophobic?) Further, Roose talked about his lesbian aunts flying to gay pride rallies every weekend and leading support groups at 10 high schools. I was surprised that Roose didn't see the parallels with evangelicals witnessing. (Both believe in their message to the point of spending a lot of time sharing it with others.) Still, this was an interesting book a worth looking into.

[Gina *loves sunshine* · Rating 4 out of 5]

So this book was a SUPER interesting read for me and I will repeat that word over and over throughout this review, LOL!!! First off, I know kids who attend Liberty, but will admit to knowing almost nothing about the college, except that it is a large Christian college and it's pretty strict. So it was very interesting to me to learn the basic facts - how the college came to be, the climate, the culture, the students, the rules, beliefs, etc - the authors perspective anyway!

I have kids at a different Christian college, but love their school for probably the same reasons most parents want their kid to attend Liberty. So again it was super interesting to me to imagine my kids going or not going there and how that would fit into what we taught and how we raised them.

This is definitely an outsiders take on the school, as it is written by a non-christian who basically enrolled with the sole purpose of staying 1 semester to gather info and perspective to write a book. I found his take on the environment and situations really interesting, sometimes a little judgy - but nothing crazy. I have a certain perspective about college and thought it was cool to compare notes, especially given the fact that I went to secular college ~yet desire for my kids to attend a christian college.

anyways, probably not the most popular book out there but this was a good read for me. I listened to the audio and it was narrated by the author. I will admit to being slightly mad at the author at times, and honestly quite on the edge of my seat waiting to see how it ended!

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hilarious. A liberal Brown University journalism undergrad goes undercover for a semester at Jerry Falwell's Liberty University - a bastion of ultra-conservative, Christian philosophy.

Christ rescued me about 10 years ago and I still find much of American 'Christian culture' to be very strange. This book reminds me of my own puzzlement over the oddities in language and practice that permeate the American definition of 'Christian living'. I tend to rank my encounters on what I lovingly refer to as my 'Freaky-Christian-Scale', but Roose does a much better job than I of highlighting and questioning and gently poking fun at norms of behavior, language, attitude that many take for granted.

I appreciate his honest look at things he found admirable as well as those he disdained. And found it refreshing that he wrestled with the ethics of 'pretending' to share a common faith with his new classmates.

Bottom Line: Laugh-out-loud funny for those willing to examine and distinguish between essentials of true faith in Christ and the many cherished but optional practices associated with 'American Christianity'. I'm usually a skeptic regarding books written with a blatant agenda of securing a book deal...but in this case I just didn't care.

[Karina · Rating 4 out of 5]

I like this book. It's got good story-telling and a lot of humor. It was nearly impossible to put down. I guess they wouldn't consider me a Christian in that University either, since I'm Catholic, not Evangelic Christian. In some of my beliefs, I'm more like the author than the Liberty students. For instance, I too would find the Life History lessons preposterous (I know because just the other day I got a free book offer in the mail arguing for geocentricity with some sprinkling of Bible quotes -- very much eye-roll worthy!), and I would argue that homosexuals are to be treated with respect and compassion. I keep thinking that maybe the author should explore Catholicism; wonder what his reaction would be? I'm learning a lot from this book, though.

[Patrick Gibson · Rating 3 out of 5]

From the liberal, secular halls of Brown University to the hub of Evangelical higher education and back again, it seems like an unlikely journey. Kevin Roose, a sophomore at Brown, decided that instead of the ubiquitous semester abroad, he would explore, up close and personal, a particular strata of American culture. And so Roose, raised Quaker in a not very religious household, transferred to Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia, the conservative Baptist school founded by none other than Jerry Falwell. His book, The Unlikely Disciple, records the months he spent undercover there.

Roose didn't intend to pretend he was something he wasn't, had no interest in tricking anyone, and didn't want to write a sordid expose on the religious culture of Liberty. Yet, in order to understand the school he was attending, even briefly, he had to pretend to be evangelical himself and make sure the students and instructors really believed him. But he quickly found himself surrounded by a student body that could quote scripture effortlessly, prayed all day, and lived by a strict moral code. The classes he attended focused on defending evangelical theology to the world (his science class was "young-earth science," which rejects evolution and asserts that the earth is a mere 6,000 years old).

When not in class, he prayed with his new friends, dated girls he was not allowed to kiss, attended lectures by Sean Hannity and Karl Rove, and sung in the choir at Falwell's local megachurch. Still, he and his friends and dorm mates also snuck in R-rated movies, talked about sex, smoked cigarettes and complained about "The Liberty-Way," the school's strict code of conduct. While most students at Liberty accepted the rules and the religious movement's social parameters, there were those who challenged them, even if just a bit.

The Unlikely Disciple is witty and well-written, and Roose's style is readable yet expressive. What is most interesting here is not the examination of such a fascinating school (though that makes for a compelling read), but the balancing act Roose must perform as he tries to find empathy for a group of people who are just as often close-minded, bigoted and intellectually rigid as they are kind, generous and sophisticated. Because he is a young man, Roose is open to many emotional possibilities, and while on the one hand he deplores the homophobia he witnesses daily, he comes to find comfort and strength in the type of prayer and community Liberty is based on. These contradictions he duly records, and so we readers are privy to not just the inner sanctum of Liberty University but the inner sanctum of Kevin Roose as well.

At turns funny and frustrating, Roose's is more than promising and his objectivity commendable. Telling, though, is that he begins to run out of steam towards the end, the narrative stalls just a bit, and he gets repetitive. There are plenty of ideas left for him to mine (the bigotry, intolerance, the rejection of mainstream science he encounters are all very real), but readers will sense a hesitation: he has become, perhaps, a tad too close to his subject, and the people he thought he would never be like have become friends and love interests. This wishy-washiness is important as well because we are watching a young man questioning and then questioning the questions he set out to ask.

Despite any minor blunders, The Unlikely Disciple is a great read, and Roose is an excellent tour guide to a world of purity promises, literal biblical interpretation, holy-rolling hip-hop, Christian support groups, street corner missionary work (in Daytona Beach during spring break no less!) and much, much more.

[Erik Graff · Rating 4 out of 5]

The description pretty tells the story. I'd debated buying this, seeing as it was written by a college student who'd only spent one semester at Liberty University. Having finished it, I do wish he had done the course, but the four months he did spend there were sufficient to humanize the institution, its staff and students.

I don't believe I'd given much thought to Liberty University until Sen. Bernie Sanders spoke there early on during his campaign. That and the response of the audience, both at the time and in comments posted on the Web afterwards, had made me aware of the institution and of its notorious founder, Jerry Falwell.

I've had in my less-than-immediate family believing Mormons and two evangelical Christians of the Liberty variety. Many of my high school peers had also subscribed to evangelical forms of Christianity, but usually of the more liberal, 'care for the least of them' Bernie Sanders-type variety. Since childhood, influenced by my father and other, closer relatives, I'd wondered at how anyone could be a bible literalist and I've devoted a great deal of study to the textual and historical bases of the Christian religion and its spin-offs (Understanding political conservatism was easier in many cases). This book doesn't much address biblical literalism, except in terms of the blind faith acceptation of it central to Liberty's ideology, but it does very much explore the psychology and sociology of the Liberty community and that in a generally sympathetic and very eye-opening manner. Even Jerry Falwell himself is humanized by the author's portrayal of him.

A very easy read, I'd recommend this book to pretty much every American citizen so long as things like The Moral Majority remain politically relevant.

[Dmitry · Rating 4 out of 5]

All serious Christians can greatly benefit from a thoughtful reading of this book, particularly in light of the author's statement that 51% of Americans do not have an evangelical Christian within their sphere of communication. The book is a good wake-up call for us to re-evaluate our communication with non-Christians.

First, it is fascinating to read an account of a secular person who was immersed into the conservative evangelical environment. The author's reaction to some aspects of the Christian teaching and lifestyle paints a good picture of what we can expect to face in developing relationships with non-Christians. There is a wide cultural divide between the evangelical and secular parts of America and the book provides some clues on how that divide can be crossed.

Second, it is absolutely shocking that after a full semester at a fundamental Christian university the author still seems to have a very simplistic picture of what it means to be a Christian. His understanding of conversion is still very much limited to a simple "sinner's prayer". The concept of personal relationship with God and lordship of Christ has not entered the scene. The rules that guide Christian behavior are completely disconnected from a genuine desire to follow Christ and please God. If a radical Christian institution failed to properly communicate the message of the gospel, what does it say about the rest of the church?

When a sincere person is honestly sharing his heart, it would be wrong not to listen and learn.

[Kogiopsis · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is the first year common book at the university where my mom teaches, so she got a free copy. SHE KEEPS COMING INTO MY ROOM AND PUTTING IT ON MY DESK. I'm like, "Mom, do you even see the cardboard box full of library books in the corner? Do you really think I have time?" and I put it back out on her desk. BUT IT COMES BACK.
She finally took it and read it herself and now it's back again, sigh. However, the fact that my mother - whose tastes tend more towards benign fantasy where no one gets killed (I should know; I'm her in-house librarian) and who reads extremely slowly - read this book in just a few days is a pretty strong recommendation.
To which I say: Okay, fine. I'll read it. As long as you take it back when I'm done.

[John Brackbill · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a definite 5 star. Not because I agree with the predominate views of Kevin Roose through his experience and not because I became an admirer of Liberty University, but because it was a great read. Not only because it was entertaining, but it was informative and a unique outsiders-insiders look at Liberty and evangelicalism in general.
Kevin Roose is a talented writer who skillfully entertains and informs his readers. He had a difficult job of fairly analyzing his one semester journalistic experience at Liberty all the while being a non-evangelical liberal who could not be further from evangelicalism.

Overall I think he did about as good a job possible at being fair and balanced given his orientation. Probably the most effective way that he accomplished this was being upfront with who he was. He did not hide many of his presuppositions and even his struggles with how to process all that he was experiencing. At times I actually found myself wondering, hoping and pulling for his conversion based on the fact that he seemed to be wrestling with the truth claims of Christianity. In the end he was not converted, but his preconceived notions of Liberty (really evangelicalism at large) were challenged and informed.

Let me give some cautions about reading this book. There are some language issues, but probably the biggest caution I would give is the theme of sexual lust that is prominent throughout. There is a suggestive opening scene that took place and there are repeated discussions about the sexuality of the student body at Liberty. The caution I am giving is not "don't read this book," but be prepared to not linger in your thoughts on any of the honest reporting regarding these themes. The other caution I would give is that you need to be prepared to hear a secular mindset totally misunderstand you if you are a Bible believing Christian. You will need to have some thick skin at times. Be prepared to recognize just how much of an outsider to this world you really are as you follow Christ.

Here are several thoughts regarding this book.

First, Liberty is not America's Holiest University. The title is a bit misleading. We could quibble about what he means by that, but I think he means most conservative or something in that sphere. If that is what he means I know for a fact that he is wrong! Three times he mentioned my Alma mater (Bob Jones University) and after reading this book I am sure that BJU is at least "more holy" according to the definition of being more conservative. I was not very familiar with Liberty, but based on what I learned through this attempt at fair reporting I was a bit shocked at how non-conservative Liberty is.

Second, evangelicalism can be very trite and hokey. No doubt Roose at times painted the picture at Liberty hokier than it really was, but by and large I was struck with this impression. From baptismal pep rallies to Jerry Falwell bobble heads I was embarrassed at times realizing how odd this must be to observe as an outsider. I was not excited to hear that at a sportsman's evangelistic outreach Jesus was presented as a "man's man" according to worldly standards not Scriptural truth. Even Roose could see right through that one. Did Roose hear expositional preaching? Did he see genuineness in corporate worship? Such does not seem to be his consistent experience or impression according to this account.

Third, unbelievers are spiritually blind to the truth. I found myself sad for Kevin as he struggled to understand the spiritual truth he was confronted with. It was a striking example of spiritual blindness through personal testimony. He was offended by the exclusivity of the gospel and wished that Christianity didn't have to be "all about Christ." He could see the foolishness of the Christians around him (and he did see much), but he could not see the foolishness of his own enslavement to sin. He was convinced that his life was better, but there were moments that you would think he could see that his was a life of foolishness. For example, the fact that he admitted waking up on Sunday mornings feeling great because he had not been on a drinking binge the night before like he would have been at Brown. Or the time when he admitted it was nice to go on a date not having the pressure of trying to become sexual but actually getting to know the girl through communication.

Fourth, our testimony matters. There is a reason that in Titus 2 Paul gives instructions for fitting gospel conduct and three times these ways: “so that the word of God will not be dishonored” (Titus 2:5); “so that the opponent will be put to shame, having nothing bad to say about us (Titus 2:8); “so that they will adorn the doctrine of God our Savior in every respect” (Titus 2:10). Did Roose see any consistent testimony of walking with Christ? Was there someone who was genuinely being transformed by God’s grace? Were there multiple examples of the power of the gospel? Certainly as someone who does not know Christ, he would have been understandably cynical of the reality of transforming grace. Did this keep him from reporting all that he saw in this area? I hope there was much more evidence of God’s transforming grace before him than was reported in the book. I fear that the lack of true repentance he saw around him heightened his impression of hypocrisy and rightly so in some cases.

Fifth, the grace of God in Christ is not just for the “sinner’s prayer” but for the new life in Christ. Once again I feel I must leave room that Roose might have been incapable of reporting such spiritual realities, but were the Christians around him explicitly centered upon Christ and gospel centered even in their sanctification? Or were they saved by grace but relying upon themselves for the ability for transformation? I was saddened to hear that many of them seemed oblivious of the fact that in Christ they were dead to sin and alive to Christ.

Sixth, how a true child of God is identified matters. Is it just that someone goes to church? Sings in the choir? Gets mentored? Goes to Bible study? Gets recommended to be a spiritual leader? Doesn't swear? Roose was this and more, but was not truly saved. And he fooled many people. This is a good reminder not to confuse such external signs for regeneration.

More could be said, but I highly recommend reading this book. It is intriguing on many levels. Here is an outsider getting an insider’s look. But if you, like me are a follower of Christ, then reading this book is like being an insider hearing an outsider who becomes an incognito insider on our kind trying to figure us out. As you listen to such an incognito insider try to figure us out, inevitably you learn something about your own kind. Some not so flattering, but all highly instructive.

[Andi · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a quick but engaging book. Kevin Roose, a self-described "secular Quaker" who is largely unfamiliar with evangelical Christianity, transfers for a semester to Liberty University, a hyper-conservative school founded by the late Jerry Falwell, as a sort of undercover observer. He goes in cautious but open-minded, and his observations paint a picture of a group of (mostly) kind, compassionate people trying to do right and good in the world. Of course, what exactly constitutes "right" and "good" are key points of contention, and Roose understandably expresses extreme discomfort with some of what he sees. However, it is overall a humanizing portrait, and it is important to remember that whatever side one falls on, "the other side" is mostly not populated by the frothing, angry ranters As Seen On TV. True dialogue and progress happens when we view those with whom we disagree as human beings with whom we disagree, not as agents of evil bent on destruction or any other hyperbolic exaggeration. This is something I think all sides could use a reminder of every so often, and this book is an excellent example of that concept.

Writing-wise, it was also a very enjoyable read. The prose was clear and engaging, mixing the author's observations and conversations with his own commentary in a way that kept the reader interested and made points without harping on them. It was also funny; Roose finds himself in some objectively absurd situations, and his wry humor had me frequently chuckling and reading bits out loud to my husband. It's also worth noting that the humor was never mean-spirited, and often self-deprecating; he seems like a guy who'd be fun to chat up at a party.

I do wish Roose had spent a little more time seeking out the experiences of other groups. He mentions at one point that the fact that he's a white, straight, cisgender male has a lot to do with how he experiences life at Liberty, and the experience might likely be vastly different for someone who is a different race, gender, or sexual orientation. This is an important point to acknowledge, but he doesn't then seem to go out of his way at all to seek out the points of view of any members of those groups. Granted, it would probably be difficult to find anyone in that environment who admitted to being gay (or trans!), but he seems to regularly hang out with at least one black guy and actually dates at least one girl, so it seems like he could have maybe asked a few more questions, at least of the "What do you like/dislike about Liberty?" variety. Coming in mid-year as the new guy, I wouldn't expect that to raise too much suspicion. In the end, though, the book doesn't aim to be anything more or less than his personal experience, and on that front, it succeeds quite well. Definitely recommended.

[Carre Gardner · Rating 5 out of 5]

OK, to be clear, I'm only giving this 4 and a half stars. Once again Goodreads, about that half-star option you might want to [but clearly aren't ever going to] consider...

Read the summary, because I'm not going to reproduce it here. But here are my foremost reactions:

1) I'm embarrassed that Liberty University was the medium chosen to represent evangelical Christianity to Kevin. Mr. Roose, please give us the benefit of the doubt: Jerry Falwell's private sub-culture is not the best, truest face of evangelical Christianity. As a graduate of a similar Christian liberal arts college,I can emphatically state that the "Christian culture" you experienced, although alive and well in the US, has little to do with the message Jesus was trying to communicate. There are plenty of us outside such campuses who understand this well.

2) I appreciate that the author really was able to distinguish such a "culture of ?Christianity" from the day-to-day lives of his friends on campus. And while Jerry Fallwell's "C of C," if I may call it that, left him cold, the passion of his friends' lives spoke volumes to him. Which is the way Christians should be doing it anyway, come to think of it.

3) The author's impression that he was more or less being taught "what to think" at Christian college is no different--if he would be honest--from what happens in a secular education. Institutions of higher learning exist not just as mediums to communicate information, but as agents to shape the way students think. And each does it according to its particular philosophy: Brown as well as Liberty. Give us the courtesy of some objectivity here, Mr. Roose.

4) I was really floored by the harsh, judgmentalism of the author's own family. Usually we're only allowed to say "judgmentalism" when such attitudes come from the religous and political right, but in this case, where the author's whole family is wary of anything outside of their own belief system; when the lesbian aunts are anxious--and apparently nagging and hovering--lest their nephew be exposed to a different thought process and thus swayed away from "the truth..." what else can you call it? They all pre-decided, without being well-informed, that the belief system their [son] was going to experiment with was "the wrong one" and they didn't rest easy until, a whole semester later, he was safely "out of it." But...that's okay because they decided that from their left-facing view??? How is that?

All in all, a great book. As my own teenager ponders her future in higher education, she's reading this, and taking into account all the uphill battles she may have to fight for her faith if she chooses a Christian college. Which, after reading this book, she's not likely to do.

[Joy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Roose is a liberal sort-of-Quaker pacifist student at Brown who went undercover at Jerry Falwell's Liberty University for a semester to write about his experiences there as an outsider. I got this book on a Friday and showed it to my friend a friend on Sat. night who reminded me that I know someone who went to Liberty at the same time Roose did. Having grown up steeped in evangelical subculture, I was interested in the take of an outsider who could approach the project charitably, and Roose did very well--he was as honest with his Liberty classmates as he felt he could be and found things to admire (spiritual life, community life, and even the strict rules about physical contact between genders) about Liberty as well as things to be very wary of (Liberty teaches courses on evolution, but only to biology majors, while teaching creationism to all students; and I wouldn't be surprised if one of his roommates ended up in the news for assaulting gay people). The humanity of the Liberty students actually seemed to surprise Roose at several points (they like popular non-Christian music! Some of them have sex! Some of them are even gay!), but overall this was an interesting and enjoyable book.

[Nancy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ah, now. This is more like it. Kevin Roose, a sophomore at Brown University and the son of Quaker liberals, decides to spend a semester at the jewel in the crown of Jerry Falwell's empire: far-right, fundamentalist Liberty University. (In passing, have you EVER HEARD of such an ironic name for a school? *loves it*) He makes a conscious decision to fit in by talking the talk AND walking the walk - he stops cussing, tries mighty hard to stop masturbating, prays daily, even joins the choir and takes creation "science".

I admit it: I have a tiny little reader-crush on Kevin. Not only is he a talented writer (his characterizations of the Liberty students are so spot-on that the reader becomes totally enmeshed in the Liberty world), but he is also an astoundingly open-minded and mature observer of his brave new world. The Liberty University that Kevin portrays is no cartoon: it is complex, layered, nuanced. Moreover, I was genuinely impressed by Roose's sheer goodness and personal integrity: he struggles with the anti-gay rhetoric and lack of academic freedom he encounters, but avoids simplistic explanations that objectify or demonize Liberty students and professors. And he manages to build genuine relationships that are both respectful and mature. This guy is 19? Kudos.