Why I Believe

Ever since college, I have been on a mission to understand, as best as I can, what ultimately is true. It seems to me that this quest is the beginning point for making a life commitment, which everyone does, either intentionally, as I hope to do, or unintentionally. As I have deliberated on these matters, I have noticed that most people do not have good reasons for investing themselves in their worldview. Many, for instance, will say that they believe in God because they have “faith,” because they were taught to believe by their parents or community, or because they believe in the Bible (but then don’t have good reasons for believing in the Bible). This seems insufficient to me. In the end, it seems that a person should have solid reasons for believing whatever they believe is most important in life.

In my journey over the past 20 years or so, I have changed how I have approached this issue. In the beginning, I was much more focused on intellectual reasons to believe. As time has went on, and as I have become more acquainted with the limitations of intellect, however, I increasingly have relied on psychological reasons. I discuss each of these below.

Intellectual Reasons to Believe

For me, trying to figure out whether I believe in a Creator God has been the starting point. As I have thought about this, I have returned time and time again to the question: What best explains the origins of reality as we understand it? Let me frame this question further by describing some aspects of reality, as I see it. Based on everything I understand, the universe is incredibly complex, yet also full of order. This is what allows mathematics to have utility, as everything about the universe basically can be explained by fairly simple (some say beautiful) mathematical formulas. Also, the universe consists of matter, living beings that can reproduce to create other living beings, and human beings who clearly are conscious and some might say also are free, creative, loving, moral, relational, and potentially rational.

An atheist must explain all of this by saying that it all happened by time and chance alone. For example, matter somehow was created by non-matter, life somehow was created by non-life, and consciousness was created by non-consciousness. I find this implausible. In particular, I find it hard to believe that living organisms could have developed into different genders that then can combine to create new life through such random factors.

The only way I can make sense of reality as I observe it is to posit the existence of an eternal Being that possesses similar qualities and thus must have guided the process along. In my mind, it is entirely reasonable, then, to assume that there must have been a Being who is complex, ordered (some say beautiful), conscious, free, creative, loving, moral, relational, and rational who ultimately is responsible for reality as we understand it. I think it takes much more of a “leap of faith” to believe in time and chance alone as an explanation for reality than it does to believe in a Force with these properties.

Occam’s Razor is a principle that often comes up in this kind of context. Basically, this is the principle that, all things being equal, the best theory is the theory with the least assumptions necessary. Typically, this principle is used to suggest that belief in God is a worse theory than non-belief. However, to be honest, given reality as I described it above, I think it takes considerably more assumptions to believe in time and chance alone (or in the existence of different universes, as some have more recently suggested) as explanations of reality than to believe in a Supernatural Force. Occam’s Razor, in my view, actually favors the existence of God. For example, think of how much of a leap it really takes to accept the idea that reality evolved by accident. Compare this with the Supernatural assumption, which has been accepted by every culture throughout history. Personally, it seems to me more likely that a Supernatural Force was responsible for reality as I observe it than to assume it all happened to come about by time and chance.

Given my belief in a Supernatural Being, the next question for me has been what form It might take. As I suggested above, I think reality suggests that God has certain properties (i.e., complex, ordered, conscious, free, creative, loving, moral, relational, and rational). This by itself actually leads to a fairly refined portrait of God.

For better or worse, I have been raised in a predominantly Christian culture in a Christian family, and this has led me to consider the claims about Jesus Christ being Divine. An analogy has been influential in my thinking. Specifically, the early Christian church might be likened to a wildfire in that it grew almost exponentially after the death of Jesus. Similar to what I wrote above, an important question is: What best explains this? It doesn’t seem that the followers of Jesus were intentionally lying because many of these people died for their beliefs. So, this leaves us with two reasonable explanations: Either Jesus really was the Son of God or His followers were somehow psychologically influenced to believe that He was (while, in fact, He really wasn’t).

I always have found it important to refer to the best information possible on the issue which, almost everyone agrees, are the Biblical documents themselves, considered to be (more or less) reliable historical documents (as far as historical documents are reliable anyways, given that they are written a generation or two after the relevant events). In particular, I find it intriguing that Jesus was noted by so many authors as rising from the dead within a few generations after His death. As one important example, consider 1 Corrinthians 15:5-8, where Paul writes: “. . . he appeared to Peter, and then to the Twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers at the same time, most of whom are still living, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and last of all he appeared to me also.”

Again, there is no reason to believe these people were making this up, as they ultimately died for their convictions. So, either Jesus really did rise from the dead and really was seen by over 500 people or these people were experiencing hallucinations of some kind or were seriously delusional.

A hypothetical question to ponder. . . Imagine if a so-called Savior was alive today and claimed to be the son of God. Then, they died. Some said, though, that they rose again, showing their Divinity. As evidence of this, they wrote publically that over 500 saw this person raised. If this was a hoax, this quickly would be discredited and the movement would be isolated to a small cult. With Christianity, though, the movement spread like wildfire.

In other words, it seems to me that it is considerably more likely that Jesus rose from the dead than any other explanation. If this isn’t accepted, one must come up with a more reasonable explanation that fits the reality that the church grew like wildfire in the context of a public declaration that there were over 500 people who saw the risen Christ (some of whom were still living at the time of the letter) in a cultural environment where this was not expected.

Some options. . .

Could there have been some kind of mass hallucination? I guess anything is possible, but I’ve personally never heard of such a thing happening before. Hallucinations are experienced individually and not in a group, particularly in a group this size.

The best alternative explanation I personally can think of is that something like a cult developed where a social psychological process took over, suspending people’s rational judgment (think David Koresh). This also seems unlikely to me, though, given, again, the resurrection reports noted by so many, the desire to discredit this all from being true, the cultural context in which this took place, and the record showing that a number of people seemed to show critical thinking about these issues (for example, the doubting Thomas).

Psychological Reasons to Believe

Having said all this, I recognize that there may be many good, smart people who will disagree. One can’t prove what I’ve written above. For instance, I believe my logic is much better for the existence of God than the Divinity of Jesus (mostly because the latter relies on historical evidence, which always can be questioned). Given this, various psychological reasons to believe have become increasingly important to me to acknowledge.

It is obvious to me that I am personally very limited. Of course, my body and life clearly are limited in what they can do; for example, I will die someday. In my daily life now, though, I also clearly am limited. I lack security. I always seem to long for more and more. No matter how well my life goes, ultimately, I feel deeply incomplete.

Others seem to struggle with similar feelings. In fact, I am fascinated that almost everyone I ask, no matter what they believe, wishes that there was a loving God on whom they could depend. Generally, when genuine needs exist, there is a way to fulfill them. People thirst, but there is water. People hunger, but there is food. People crave sex and companionship, and there are other people. As C. S. Lewis concluded, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

But, of all the religious and spiritual beliefs that exist, why the Christian belief system? Again, to me, if I search out different ways to meet my needs for security, attachment, and completeness, the Christian story seems most fulfilling. In this story – more than any other (that I know of anyway) – there is a sense that there is a perfect Being passionate about being intimate with me to the point of great sacrifice. When I am really honest with myself, this is what I seek: “to know, even as I am fully known (1 Corinthians 13:12).”

Or, as Timothy Keller wrote in “The Prodigal God:”

“In the beginning of the book of Genesis we learn the reason why all people feel like exiles, like we aren’t really home. We are told that we were created to live in the garden of God. That was the world we were built for, a place in which there was no parting from love, no decay or disease. It was all these things because it was life before the face of God, in his presence. . . The Bible says that we have been wandering spiritual exiles ever since. That is, we have been living in a world that no longer fits our deepest longings. Though we long for bodies that ‘run and are not weary,’ we have become subject to disease, aging, and death. Though we need love that lasts, all our relationships are subject to the inevitable entropy of time, and they crumble in our hands. Even people who stay true to us die and leave us, or we die and leave them. Though we long to make a difference in the world through our work, we experience endless frustration. We never fully realize our hopes and dreams. We may work hard to re-create the home that we have lost, but, says the Bible, it only exists in the presence of the heavenly father from which we have fled.”

Perhaps I am wrong about this. As I said, the best reasoning still leaves uncertainty. At some level, I think every honest and introspective person has to acknowledge some degree of agnosticism. And, being human, I am fairly certain I am wrong about some of my deepest convictions.

Having said this, when it comes right down to it, what I have written above makes most sense to me. During times of doubt, I continually come back to these reasons. I cannot get around their truthfulness and hold on my life. If I had been born in a non-Christian culture, maybe a culture where people didn’t believe in God, I’d like to believe I’d still believe what I do today because of the pull of these reasons.

Quotation #7: The Poor in Spirit

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God.” (Matthew 5:3)

Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount is arguably the most countercultural set of teachings in history. It consists of eight pronouncements (often called “beattitudes”) about who truly is blessed in God’s view. It begins with the pivotal statement about the poor in spirit, after which are statements about the blessedness of those who mourn and the persecuted. These pronouncements suggest the opposite of what our culture presupposes, that those who are blessed are the strong, the euphoric, and the powerful. Overall, it seems that the Christian God has a special connection with those who suffer and are oppressed. Ultimately, Christianity teaches that suffering is an important aspect of life. It is not something to “push away,” but is something to “be with” in order to be ultimately transformed.

Jesus seems to embody these teachings personally. The prophet Isaiah points to Jesus as someone who would be “despised” and “rejected,” “a man of suffering, and familiar with pain” (53:3). He spent the most time with the physically and mentally sick, and those on the fringes of acceptance in society. In the end, Jesus personally yields to deep sorrow for a greater purpose, for resurrection.

Another way this emphasis is revealed in the Bible is in Psalm 23. For instance, the Psalmist writes:

“The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (1-4).

As Rabbi Harold Kushner points out, what is most striking about this Psalm is how the pronoun changes. God is impersonal (“he”) until the individual walks through the valley, at which point God becomes personally involved (“you”).

One way in which this line of thought informs my life is in helping me to accept and benefit from suffering. Like most, I would prefer not to suffer. Sometimes, this means I “push away” pain. However, it seems that suffering is inherent in being human, and points to a broader need I have for Something More. It provides a route for personal and spiritual growth, if I allow it. One way in which this occurs for me is to allow myself to feel pain, and to pray through what that pain might want to teach me. This emphasis has parallels in recent developments in cognitive therapy, particulary acceptance and commitment therapy.

The above teachings also make me pause as to what I am trying to accomplish in life. Although my culture would have me strive for strength, euphoria, and power, God seems to suggest these ends are not necessarily the ultimate goals. Rather, God desires me to “act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with [Him]” (Micah 6:8).

Finally, these teachings encourage me to regard all people as equal. Whereas there is a tendency to favor those who are strong, happy, and powerful, I am reminded that everyone has value. In particular, I feel a calling to form relationships with and uplift those who are sick and marginalized in society, recognizing that I have experiences of being “sick” and “marginalized” in my own ways. Rather than acting based on my perceived “ingroups,” relative to perceived “outgroups,” I strive to identify with all people, as best I can, and to treat them as I would want to be treated if I were in their shoes. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. I am convinced that all people have good and evil inside. As Elie Wiesel suggests:

“We must not see any person as an abstraction. Instead, we must see in every person a universe with its own secrets, with its own treasures, with its own sources of anguish, and with some measure of triumph.”

Quotation #6: The Ministry of Presence

“More and more, the desire grows in me simply to walk around, greet people, enter their homes, sit on their doorsteps, play ball, throw water, and be known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to have the time to practice this simple ministry of presence. Still, it is not as simple as it seems. My own desire to be useful, to do something significant, or to be part of some impressive project is so strong that soon my time is taken up by meetings, conferences, study groups, and workshops that prevent me from walking the streets. It is difficult not to have plans, not to organize people around an urgent cause, and not to feel that you are working directly for social progress. But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn’t be to know people by name, to eat and drink with them, to listen to their stories and tell your own, and to let them know with words, handshakes, and hugs that you do not simply like them, but truly love them.” (Henri Nouwen)

Many people, myself included, value love above all else. Love is at the center of Jesus’ great commandments to love God and to love others as ourselves. What exactly does it mean to love, though? After all, there many different meanings to the term “love.” For example, as I discuss in this post, in a close relationship, “love” could mean an erotic attraction, an experience of intimacy, or a decision to do what is best for a relationship or another person.

I won’t address all of these issues in this post. However, I would like to note what has become one important aspect of love for me: The love shown in being fully present with another.

As Nouwen acknowledged, loving others in this manner is difficult. In our culture, in particular, it is normal to become preoccupied with busyness in multiple areas of life. Even if we are in the physical presence of someone, it is difficult to let go of our various concerns to be fully present. To a large extent, then, the problem of being fully present with others is blocked by various self-oriented concerns that we, frankly, care more about. Sure, we might say that we love others, but when it comes right down to it, our behavior and thought life do not demonstrate the reality of this kind of love, in particular. Because of this, spiritual work often must be done in order to be physically and truly psychologically present with another. In certain ways, we need more freedom to love in this way.

However, as Nouwen notes in the quotation above, there is something powerful about being present with people in daily life, in conversation, and in play that we would do well to further explore and work toward. Related to this, I often think about a question posed by one of Nouwen’s closest friends, Parker Palmer: How do I honor the identity and integrity of those that today cross my path?” To a large extent, I believe the answer to this question is to be fully attentive to others. There is a special challenge in doing this with those closest to me, such as my wife and kids. However, these are the people that need my attention the most. Furthermore, in a Jesus-centered life, this kind of attention should be extended also to strangers and perceived “enemies” in daily life.

Beyond this, it appears that there may be a special kind of therapeutic effect of being present with those who are struggling. Consistent with this, the noted psychologist, Carl Rogers, emphasized in his work that people seem to almost naturally work through difficulties and develop themselves when in the presence of someone who empathizes with their experiences and sincerely accepts them.

From a Christian perspective, the presence of God in us can make this more possible. Consider, for instance, a prayer that a Christian colleague of mine recently shared from the devotional, “Jesus Calling.” She believed that this mindset was essential to her work with patients. I think it could be extended to almost any relationship.

“Learn to listen to Me even while you are listening to other people. As they open their souls to your scrutiny, you are on holy ground. You need the help of My Spirit to respond appropriately. Ask Him to think through you, live through you, love through you. . . If you respond to others’ needs through your unaided thought processes, you offer them dry crumbs. When the Spirit empowers your listening and speaking, My streams of living water flow through you to other people. Be a channel of my love, joy, and peace by listening to Me as you listen to others.”

Quotation #5: To Give Yourself

“It is more noble to give yourself completely to one individual than to labor diligently for the salvation of the masses.” (Dag Hammarskjold)

One of the most recurring, vexing questions in my life concerns what really matters. Like many people, I long for a meaningful life, and I often wonder what would need to happen to establish that my life really has meant something signficant. Often times, for me, this turns my attention to external markers of accomplishment that I could point to that would somehow prove that my life has mattered. I am tempted to believe that a meaningful life is defined in proportion to the number of lives that I directly touch.

Words of wisdom such as the ones above, however, redirect me. In general, it seems more meaningful to direct efforts to making a real difference in the lives of a few than in trying to make a small difference in the lives of many. In this way, I imagine the effects of my life as being reflected in a set of concentric circles, with my most influential actions being directed toward myself, and then toward my wife and kids, and then toward other family relationships, long-term friendships, my church community, my students, and the like.

More specifically, beginning in the center, it seems that the most significant actions in my life are directed toward my self, the main entity that I exercise control over. As Leo Tolstoy once noted, “Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.” Consequently, my own inner transformation must be a high priority. Just as I sometimes wish that others around me would change, others around me surely also wish that I would change, and this is where I have primary influence. Ignoring the potential for inner transformation also is a choice that has consequences.

Beyond this, I make a significant difference, for better or worse, in the lives of my immediate family members, including my wife, kids, and father. No one can be my wife’s husband or my kids’ dad or my dad’s youngest son besides me. Given this, I have a primary responsibility to bring my best to them. Distractions that get in the way of this need to be put into broader perspective. Related to this, I think of the words of Mother Teresa, who once remarked:

“Once in a while, we should ask oursrelves several questions in order to guide our actions. . . Do I know the poor? Do I know. . . the poor in my family, in my home, those who are closest to me?. . . Perhaps what my husband or wife lacks, what my children lack, what my parents lack, is not clothes or food. Perhaps they lack love, because I do not give it.” 

More broadly, my actions may play a relatively significant role in the lives of other family members, long-term friends, members of my church community, my students, and the like. However, the further out from the “inner core” that I get, the less important I become. In other words, the less of a personal relationship I have with people, the less difference I can make.

As Hammarskjold suggested, there is a temptation to “labor diligantly for the salvation of the masses.” However, the older that I get, the more I realize that external markers of accomplishment and efforts to make a difference in the lives of large groups of people don’t really have much impact. More is less; less is more. Thus, rather than evaluating the significance of my life in terms of awards, wealth, or prestige, perhaps it would be better to look at the number of sincere Thanksgiving or birthday wishes that I get. The depth and richness of close relationships seems much more important.

To some, this line of thought may suggest limitations on the amount of influence a single person might have. This is true. It seems wise to recognize that an individual only can do so much. On the other hand, I am reminded of Jesus, who decided to invest most of his efforts into a relatively small group. Over generations, this changed the world. Similarly, if a spouse is happy, or if children are well-raised, the influence will continue as these people influence others. Furthermore, I believe that the focus on the impact of an individual may be culturally limited. The Bible speaks about Christians being part of a body. In this sense, each person has a limited, but vital, role to play. For instance, if the hand doesn’t do its job, the whole body suffers. One can also extend this reasoning to consider the body of humanity, and how each person plays an important role in their station in life and in applying their gifts and passions in ways that only they can.

Quotation #4: In Giving We Receive

“Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console; to be understood, as to understand; to be loved, as to love. For it is in giving that we receive.” (St. Francis of Assisi)

One aspect of Christianity that I most resonate with is its’ focus on the interior life. That is, whereas many other religions, and whereas American society especially, tend to focus much more on externals, Christian spirituality emphasizes the centrality of what is happening in people’s minds and hearts to a much greater extent. In this beautiful quotation from a well-known prayer, St. Francis of Assisi particularly highlights the importance of an individual’s motivation in everyday life.

In this culture, we often seek to receive. More specifically, because we often crave to experience closeness in relationships, we direct significant energy toward trying to get attention, approval, affection, and admiration. This idea plays a central role in Abraham Maslow’s classic hierarchy of needs, and it is one of the most accepted among scholars of human behavior. However, there is a problem in this focus in that we do not control others. We may be able to influence others, but we cannot force others to love us. We cannot manufacture intimacy just because we need it. Furthermore, many people become preoccupied with trying to get love. Placing significant value on attaining something that we can’t control is a recipe for unhappiness. Seeking to receive also may be considered to reflect a lack of maturity, particularly in terms of spiritual development.

Coming out of a Christian worldview, the prayer of St. Francis is countercultural in that it places the emphasis on giving. We may not be able to control how much love we receive, or how much intimacy we experience, but we do control how much love we give. Whereas dwelling on receiving love may lead to chronic discontent, committing one’s life to giving to others may be one of the essential components to a meaningful life.

This has been a hard lesson for me. (As somewhat of an aside, my only elevated MMPI score in graduate school was for an overly “high need for affection!”) I can remember several times in several different relationships over the years where I have sought something from another or where I have become fixated on a level of intimacy that I had in mind as expected or desired. The result inevitably has been discouragement. Over time, I have learned that it is wiser, and more consistent with my Christian values, to focus on giving. With this change in perspective, I have found much more peace and meaning.

Of course, this shouldn’t discount the fact that we all truly do need a sense of connection and belonging. Many of the best Christian thinkers have thought of this as a manifestation of a much deeper spiritual yearning. For example, Meister Eckhart’s answer to this vexing problem was to emphasize that humans are not primary, that we were not intended to be our own sources of life. Humans do need to receive, he emphasized, but not from fallible sources, such as other people. Rather, we all have souls that have a God-shaped void in the center. We each need to be deeply penetrated with the Divine presence to be able to experience the love and intimacy that we all ache to receive.

Quotation #3: Faith, Hope, and Love

“Life is not a problem to be solved; it is an uncontrollable mystery into which we. . . enter in faith, hope, and love.” (Frederick Bauerschmidt)

The older I get, the more I resonate with the notion that life is “an uncontrollable mystery.” I cannot be certain that I fully understand the nature of reality. I perceive that I am conscious as I write this, but maybe I’m dreaming. If I am conscious, as I believe that I am, I cannot know for certain whether what I perceive is completey accurate, due to all sorts of perceptual and cognitive errors that I tend to make as a human. Although I must make assumptions about important spiritual beliefs (everyone does), I cannot say for certain whether there is a god or what happens after I die. I cannot know what the future  holds.

My desire is not to skip past these apparent truths to find short-term and illusory comfort, but rather to look deep within my tradition to understand them and to learn how to best respond. I deeply appreciate Bauerschmidt’s point that we need not think of these and other aspects of human experience as “problem[s] to be solved.” If we do, we miss the important fact that some things in life cannot be resolved that simply. Indeed, it seems essential to acknowledge and accept the uncertainties and sufferings inherent in human life. Faith and hope are very honest spiritual and psychological attitudes that are helpful in doing so.

As Bauerschmidt writes in his outstanding book, “Why the Mystics Matter Now,” there is great precedent in Christianity for this kind of honest wrestling. For instance, St. Therese of Lisieux struggled with the apparent absence of God for years. In the face of uncertainty, she committed to love. Bauerschmidt explains:

“Perhaps the genius of Therese’s spirituality is that she locates the encounter with God in the midst of what, in the modern-day world, seems most bereft of God: everyday life. She described herself as following a ‘little way’ – a spiritual path made up not of great sacrifices or extraordinary experiences, but of trying to bring the love of the crucified Jesus to the most mundane, seemingly Godless situations. . . Therese saw everyday life as constantly presenting us with opportunities to respond with love rather than anger, irritation, or disgust. . . Faithfulness to the God she could no longer see took the form of love and generosity toward [others], whom she could see. Heaven may have been closed to her, prayer may have become painful, but by her taking up the task of bringing Jesus’ love into each moment of her day, Therese sought to re-enchant those moments, even if this re-enchantment was a reality that remained hidden from her.”

My interpretation of Therese’s approach is that she wisely accepted the uncertainties she experienced and instead focused on what she could control: Her actions. She reflected on what she wanted to most characterize her everyday behavior with those she spent most time with, and she chose to commit to the sacrificial kind of love that is at the heart of Christian spirituality. As St. Paul wrote, “faith, hope, and love remain, and the greatest of these is love.” (1 Corinthians 13:13)

10 Personal “Holy” Books

In an article published several years ago, University of California Psychology Professor Bob Emmons described five characteristics of “spiritual intelligence,” one of which includes the ability to “sanctify” aspects of everyday life as “sacred” or “holy.” Perhaps inspired by this idea, as I have gotten older, I have noticed that I increasingly “set apart” various parts of my life in this way. For example, I have observed that certain books function as “holy books” in my life. That is, there is a group of books that I find that I continually return to for guidance and inspiration. I share my top 10 below, with the hope that they may be helpful to others as well.

1. The Bible.

Actually, there are 66 different books in the Bible, many of which have different authors, so I guess I’m cheating here by including the Bible as only one. In fact, I believe that the Bible functions as a sort of Rorschach ink blot test, with people gravitating toward certain aspects that most resonate with them. For me, I most resonate with the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) and the Psalms.

2. Why the Mystics Matter Now, by Frederick Bauerschmidt

Probably the single best book on Christianity I’ve ever read. It draws from the depth of Christianity’s greatest saints, insightfully applying their wisdom to contemporary everyday life.

3. Mere Christianity, by C. S. Lewis

C. S. Lewis speaks to me more about what it means to be Christian than any other single author. Many of his quotations have anchored my life. I could list almost any of his writings here, but his classic is this book in which he lays out the case for emphasizing a faith that focuses on essentials, rather than nit-picky bits of dogma.

4. The Reason for God, by Timothy Keller

Much of my adult life has been an intellectual search for what is true about spiritual matters. This has led me to read dozens and dozens of books on apologetics (the defense of the faith). Keller’s book is the best I have read.

5. The Celebration of Discipline, by Richard Foster

This is the most helpful book I have read for translating faith into practices that ground everyday life. It very much has influenced how I live and, in particular, how I pray.

6. The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, by Stephen Covey

Before I became interested in Psychology and religion, I read hundreds of self-help books in an attempt to figure out how to approach my life. I stopped when I read Covey’s book because nothing else seemed worth reading. This book has provided a wise roadmap for me as I have thought about my goals and time management for the past 20 years.

7. Sacred Marriage, by Gary Thomas

The best book on marriage I have ever read. The subtitle speaks volumes: “What if God designed marriage to make us holy more than to make us happy?” Thomas also has a similar book on parenting.

8. The Courage to Teach, by Parker Palmer

The only serious book I know of that discusses the relationship between spirituality and education. I read this book every summer to help prepare me for my next year of courses. In general, Parker Palmer is one of the wisest people I’ve read.

9. Night, by Elie Wiesel

My answer to the general question of “what is the best book you’ve ever read?” This chronicle of Nobel Peace Prize Winner Wiesel’s experiences in Auschwitz is haunting, and beautifully written. It grounds me in the experience of suffering.

10. ?

There are so many other wonderful books I have read that I can’t choose what else to include. I haven’t even represented some of the amazing biographies I have read, including the biographies of Einstein and John Adams. I should give credit to Walden, which changed my life when I was in high school. I’m leaving out the entire genre of fiction, including All Quiet on the Western Front, Native Son, and Empire Falls. I really haven’t even mentioned much in the realm of Psychology, such as Flow, Last Child in the Woods, the Paradox of Choice, and the Geography of Bliss. Finally, who knows what is to come next that will change the way I think and live? I just started reading In the Garden of Beasts, which looks amazing, and in a class of writing I didn’t even really know existed (historical non-fiction). I guess that’s why life continues to be a quest.