When a pastor, son of a pastor, learns his father is “transgender,” he finds more advice being offered to parents of transgender children than to children whose parents are struggling with gender identity. And he turns to Google to learn what the difference might be between transgender, transsexual, transvestite, bisexual, gay and more—all words he hadn’t planned to consider before. Even while the words are changing their meaning and their usage, his father is changing who he is, and where does that leave the child?

Author Jonathan Williams first introduces his father—his hero—through examples of an excellent childhood relationship. He allows the upcoming question to grow slowly in the reader’s mind, while inviting recognition of how we all try to live up to stereotypes—is that different from trying to live how society defines you? “From the age of four, my father knew…” he says, begging the reader to ask, how did he know (and how did the author learn he’d known from such a young age)? But now the author's an adult, and his father has shared his secret.

Mother and father both came from Christian backgrounds, both with their added burden of rules and regulations (“Catholics weren’t Christians at all,” and no movies or sporting events on Wednesdays or Sundays…). But how seriously will they, the author, or we readers take that statement of Jesus that “the truth would set us free.” Will we stake our lives on it? Is unity really more important than uniformity? Is keeping faith more important than hanging onto our “tribe” and the finances supporting it? And can a grandfather truly become a woman—truly have been a woman all along?

Jonathan Williams neither hides behind nor hides from all these questions and more. He doesn’t pretend to have always known or always supported or always been the person he feels called to be. He allows his readers to start from the same assumptions and draw the same conclusions on their way to… well maybe to a “just and generous” faith.

Readers of faith may well be challenged by this book. Readers with no faith may find their distrust confirmed, perhaps affirmed, but surely never confirmed. Because faith, it turns out, isn’t faith in an organization after all—at least, not if Jonathan Williams is to be believed. Faith is bigger and more generous than that. And just maybe we should all be thankful.

Disclosure: I found this on NetGalley and I offer my honest review. ( )

Jonathan Williams, lead pastor of Forefront Church in Brooklyn, writes about the effect his father’s transition to female had upon the son’s life and ministry. Jonathan’s father had been the leader of the church planting organization that provided financial support for the church Jonathan had just launched. He describes the emotional turmoil he experienced as he grieved the loss of his father and his gradual acceptance of his father’s new female identity. He ultimately had to choose between the church planting organization and affirming his father’s new identity, and he chose his father. This book describes that process. Reader reactions to this book will likely split along political lines as much as religious affiliation. It probably won’t change any reader’s mind about this issue, although it will add to their understanding of the complexities involved.

This review is based on an electronic advanced reading copy provided by the pubisher through NetGalley. ( )

She's My Dad is a fascinating read with a very important message valuing love and acceptance. In this memoir, Jonathan Williams, a pastor, recounts the story of his father's transition and discusses its impact on his own life. Williams' father, Paul (now Paula), was also a pastor; both parent and son, before becoming ministers, were involved in a churchbuilding organization, a movement within Evangelical Christianity, and had both based their entire lives around the church.

I'm guessing that Williams' intended audience is his fellow Christians since he chose a religious publisher for his book. I grew up in an Evangelical community and based on my experience with this ultraconservative group, I am not sure if they are ready for Williams' message. But I hope some of them are. The message in this book is incredibly powerful.

Williams has a strong grasp of structure (probably from years of writing and preaching sermons). He begins his story by throwing the reader right into the thick of things by describing his father's trip home to New York to come out to the family. This is a family full of pastors, all members deeply entwined with their church. Paula, then Paul, recognizes this and describes his situation clinically, flipping through the DSM-4 (the transgender identity was removed from the newer DSM-5 and is no longer recognized as a psychiatric disorder), "talking about the possible ways the synapses and receptors in his brain might have come to the conclusion that he's really a woman." Williams glosses over how the rest of his family responded, but he himself is shattered. He essentially goes through the stages of grief, feeling confused, angry, and depressed as he struggles with losing his father.

"There's no handbook. There's no 'how to' on YouTube. We're rightfully creating a culture where those who identify as being transgender receive greater support, but behind every coming-out party, there is a family that's weeping, drinking too much, and Googling exactly what it means to be transgender."

Paula's story is undoubtedly fascinating. I can't imagine being so immersed in an ultraconservative community, being a leader in that community, and then coming out as transgender, which is akin to transforming into an agent of the devil himself to those people. And there are a few chapters in the book written by Paula, giving us a glimpse into what she herself was going through. That story would make a great book, but this book doesn't tell that story. This book is Jonathan Williams' story. He too turns to the logic of the DSM-4 to help cope but "learning those terms and definitions intellectually did not change the emotional impact of who my father was and was becoming. I still struggled to understand the root cause that brought about such utter destruction and grief to my life. It began to dawn on me that the simple and easy rhythm in which we shared our lives would forever be different. I couldn't conceptualize this difference. When one goes through the trauma of a parent changing gender, the default is to maintain one's framework for looking at the world." And so he does. Paula, of course, immediately loses her job when she comes out as transgender. Williams recognizes that he too would lose his job if he "came out" as the accepting son of a transgender woman, so he, at first, hides his aspect of his life from his church. He struggles to reconcile his relationship with his parent with his ultraconservative community. At first, he takes small steps, by "liking" the Facebook post of a woman who came out, and by welcoming gay men and women into his church (secretly, of course, which made me uncomfortable). He begins to drink heavily. He tells a select few people in his life about his parent's changing identity but is disappointed when they focus on his parent's side by celebrating Paula's courage and perseverance. Williams recognizes that this narrative is good and true but that a "deeper narrative" of the pain that accompanies each transition is being missed.

It's easy to think Williams wants more pity and attention (I did after reading some of these passages), but again, this is his book and his story. His message is that other people are affected by a transition and that the popular narrative today "doesn't take into account the sheer complexity of having one's father, brother, sister, mother, child, or spouse become a completely different person on a neurological level. . . [T]here are friends and family members whose neural pathways are also literally rewired in the process of comprehending their loved one's transition."

Williams' relationship with his parent is strained in the months after Paula initially came out to the family, but he works through his feelings and eventually the two regain their close and loving relationship. Williams has to make some difficult choices about his career and eventually leaves the church-building community to focus on a progressive church that is welcoming to the LGBT community.

The entire story arc ended there. If the book had also ended there, I would have still enjoyed this book. But Williams goes on to discuss his ideas about reconciling his Christian faith with the need to love and accept his parent. The Evangelical world has no place for people like Paula, which is truly awful, and completely at odds with Jesus' love they neighbor philosophy. As Williams points out, the Bible only has a few passages that could possibly be referencing homosexuality, and none of them came from Jesus' mouth. Williams needs to leave his old world for one where his parent's truth is accepted and acknowledged, and he creates this world in his new church.

"As a church, we wanted to convey that healing and restoration come from the freedom to live out one's true identity. To take that identity and dissect it through Old Testament proof texting seemed to miss the mark entirely. While we're debating the meanings of ancient texts, so many in the queer community are presently marginalized, hurt, and even dying, for attempting to live out the truth of how they are perfectly created in the image of God."

I applaud this message. By leaving his old community and career, Williams demonstrated incredible courage. It's not quite fair to compare this courage to Paula's, but, again, this isn't that book.

Williams spends the final section of this book discussing, in depth, certain passages in the Bible. He puts the Bible in its proper context of an ancient text that should be treated as a living document rather than literal truth. He points to the US Constitution as another example: we should not take the words of eighteenth century white men as absolute truth, but use it as a guide. He outlines some interesting theories about what those Bible passages that seemingly condemn homosexuality actually mean, and points to some similar passages that had one meaning thousands of years ago and a completely different meaning today, such as the Abraham/Issac sacrifice story and passages condoning rape and slavery. This section of the book reads a bit like a Bible study, but Williams again demonstrates his strong sense of narrative structure by bringing us back to a final scene that mirrors a passage from earlier in the book, at a baseball game, where he concludes that he is at peace with his faith and that he and his parent have a wonderful relationship again.

Throughout the book, Williams constantly refers to Paula as he/him and “my father” but I tried not to hold that against him. He does throw she/her in there seemingly at random. My guess is that referring to Paula is “my father” makes it easier for his audience, since this is a Christian publisher. He also uses asterisks to censor curse words (f*ck) which is irritating, but again, Christian publisher.

She's My Dad gives me hope for the Evangelical Christian community. If two leaders in the movement are able to not only leave but thrive and bring a new message of love and acceptance, maybe deeper change on an institutional level is possible. This memoir is intelligent, perceptive, and unapologetically honest, and I would highly recommend this book to everyone, but especially to my Christian friends.

Release date November 2018, available for pre-order now.

ARC provided by Westminster John Knox Press in exchange for an honest review.

The quotes above were taken from an ARC and are subject to change upon publication. ( )