(Caveat: L’Engle strays at times from the bounds of orthodoxy, especially in her earlier work, including The Genesis Trilogy. Some find her difficult to read because of her open exploration or questioning of the doctrines surrounding topics like penal substitution or God’s sovereignty, as well as her imaginative—some would say too liberal—interaction with Scripture. Her honesty, her capacity to both doubt and trust, and her affirmation of God’s love make her, for me, a worthy and encouraging author, but this is something to be aware of as you begin.)
The Great Divorce by C. S. Lewis
Lewis said that George MacDonald was his “master,” and when Lewis wrote this remarkable book—a mix of spiritual fantasy, allegory, and devotion—recounting a supernatural bus ride from hell to heaven in which each passenger is invited to remain in paradise, he cast MacDonald as the guide sent to meet him. In MacDonald’s wise company, both narrator and reader listen in to the conversations of each passenger, witnessing the resentment, wounded pride, or outrage by which each chooses to return to hell even with the glory of heaven stretching out before them. By leading us through an incisive exploration of the self-deception and pettiness by which humans refuse heaven, Lewis also leads us to a fuller realization that “all loneliness, angers, hatreds, envies and itchings that [Hell] contains, if rolled into one single experience and put into the scale against the least moment of the joy that is felt by the least in Heaven, would have no weight that could be registered at all.”
While The Great Divorce ranks as one of my favorites, I would honestly recommend all of Lewis’s spiritual books. The Screwtape Letters has guided me to more practical spiritual maturity than almost any other book, and The Four Loves has become my reference point in describing both divine and human ways of loving. Lewis has a remarkable capacity to articulate the doubts and distractions, the yearnings and ordinary frustrations of the workaday Christian. He is also a writer of vivid imagination; his concepts are never abstract but illustrated by images that remain in the mind for years to come. Consider each of the works below on equal footing with the one described in more detail above:
The Screwtape Letters
Mere Christianity
The Weight of Glory
Letters to Malcolm, Chiefly on Prayer
The Four Loves
Café Theology: Exploring Love, the Universe and Everything by Michael Lloyd
If there is one book I would recommend as both a beginner’s overview and a sensitive and nuanced exploration of the core topics of Christian doctrine, this would be it. My husband and I have both been deeply fortunate to sit under Lloyd’s teaching at our college in Oxford, and we have given this book to more siblings and friends than I can count. In this volume, which covers roughly the same topics I covered in my first year of theological study, Lloyd explores ten basic doctrines such as Creation, the Fall, the Incarnation, the Atonement, and Providence. In a conversational tone, with more than occasional humor (he is famous at Oxford for his jokes), Lloyd guides readers into a theologically rich understanding of the beliefs that lie at the core of the Christian faith. I kept returning to this book for clarity as I worked on my papers, and it never failed me once.
Unspoken Sermons by George MacDonald
In my view, the glorious theme that runs through MacDonald’s work like a gleaming golden thread, weaving his fiction, sermons, poems, and essays into a magnificent whole, is his absolute trust in the Father-hearted love of God. With deep spiritual passion formed by his intimate knowledge of grief, MacDonald preached to his small congregations on what it means to be truly converted, on the call to absolute obedience to God’s will, and on the profound mercy of the Father, who never leaves us in our sin but draws us onward into a life and identity we are only beginning to imagine. For “it is to the man who is trying to live, to the man who is obedient to the word of the Master, that the word of the Master unfolds itself.”
(A note: MacDonald is a Victorian writer, which means his sermons have all the flourish and floridity of high Victorian thought. Stick with him. The gems at the heart of the occasional fluff are the kind to change one’s life.)
The Sign of Jonas by Thomas Merton
I find it difficult to choose a single Merton title, as I have come to know him mostly by skimming and dipping into the borrowed or secondhand copies of friends. But whenever I read him, I find a voice that can articulate the struggles I feel as a believer in the modern world—of distraction, of fear, of identity, of self-absorption—while still calling me into a space of silence and contemplation where I can meet God afresh. Merton was a Trappist monk, a poet, a spiritual writer, and a social activist whose spiritual autobiography The Seven Storey Mountain reached thousands hungering for faith in the aftermath of World War II. My favorite, though, is probably his journals in The Sign of Jonas, his musings in the early days of his religious life. His small delights in a cloudscape or a note of music, his frustration with the brothers, his boredom with details, his hunger for something beyond the horizon match the ruminations of my own restless soul and help me to see that whether in the cloister or the world, the possibility of wonder, the presence of joy, and the need to love with grit and grace are ever the same.
Humility: The Journey toward Holiness by Andrew Murray
I read this Victorian spiritual classic at the height of teenage self-righteousness, and its gentle challenge has sweetly dogged me ever since. The total commitment to Christ present in older spiritual literature offers a constant challenge to the self-centric atmosphere of the modern world and of my natural self. In Murray’s words, “Humility is nothing but the disappearance of self in the vision that God is all,” a statement I need as a corrective more often than I like to admit.
Knowing God by J. I. Packer
“Oh, I love that book,” said my husband when I mentioned it would make its way onto this list. My mom said the same, and aside from the intriguing way this book has impacted the lives of believers from the US to the UK to the Netherlands, I have been often struck by the way it so impacted two people in very different phases of life whose spiritual lives I so respect. I see this as a foundational book of discipleship written by someone who has walked far in the company of Jesus. It’s the gospel explored, the attributes of God made clear, the way to a real and living relationship outlined and offered to the believer. It’s the kind of book that makes a perennial child of every believer as we confront the incredible gift of knowing and being known by God. As Packer says, “I need not torment myself with the fear that my faith may fail; as grace led me to faith in the first place, so grace will keep me believing to the end.”
Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places by Eugene Peterson
This is the foundational book in a five-volume series that Peterson, a lifelong pastor, wrote after decades spent in ministry and in daily conversation with Scripture. Weaving together the discipline of theology with the more practical, daily aspects of Christian spirituality he developed with his congregations, Peterson masterfully presents a livable theology based on his conviction that “God’s great love and purposes for us are all worked out in messes in our kitchens and backyards, in storms and sins, blue skies, the daily work and dreams of our common lives.” Divided into three sections—Christ plays in creation, history, and community—this was another book I encountered in my teens that helped me to grasp the way the life of Christ is meant to invade every corner of my existence. I cannot recommend Peterson’s spiritual writing highly enough. His insight into the difficulties of discipleship in the modern age, his rich grasp of Scripture, and his conversational, creative tone have made him a mentor to many of my friends in pastoral ministry.
Also by Peterson:
Run with the Horses
A Long Obedience in the Same Direction
Tell It Slant
The Contemplative Pastor
For the Life of the World by Alexander Schmemann
This is a splendor of a book, one joyfully written in order “to remind its readers that in
Christ, life—life in all its totality—was returned to man, given again as sacrament and communion.” Written by an Orthodox priest concerned both by the rise of secularism (which sees nothing divine in creation) and by the rise of a Christianity that could only “equate the world with evil,” Schmemann wrote a book that helped me to grasp the comprehensive nature of Christ’s redemption, one that reaches into every corner of the physical cosmos as well as the spiritual. “Man is what he eats,” Schmemann reminds us in the opening line of this exuberant book, and “the world of which he must partake in order to live, is given to him by God, and it is given as communion with God.” That we have received this gift afresh in Christ’s incarnate and risen life means that a believer’s life should be the sort in which the world can literally taste and see the goodness of God (Psalm 34:8) as the Kingdom comes in our homes, our feasts, and our fellowship.
Incarnation: The Person and Life of Christ by Thomas F. Torrance
This book is a systematic and riveting (two adjectives that don’t usually go together) examination of the doctrine of the Incarnation. Torrance was a famed professor of theology in Scotland, and this book is a transcription of the lectures he gave with such loving verve that whole classrooms were held in fascination by what he taught. He looks at the Incarnation throughout Scripture, exploring the Old Testament as pre-Incarnation history, making clear what was accomplished not only by Christ’s death but by his human life, as it embodied the active, loving obedience that humanity was meant, from its inception, to live out to God. Torrance’s knowledge is staggering, but there is a current of excitement thrumming through his work that is downright contagious. I clearly remember sitting in the hushed and sophisticated Bodleian Library with tears in my eyes as the scope of God’s redemption became clear to me in this book.
Mysticism by Evelyn Underhill
The title alone can make some nervous. In a modern world where mysticism is often associated with “vague or ill-defined religious or spiritual belief, especially as associated with a belief in the occult” (definition courtesy of Oxford Dictionaries), mysticism can seem anything but orthodox. But to medieval Christians, and to countless devout believers throughout the ages, Christian mysticism is simply the practice of intentional, contemplative, disciplined prayer, or as Underhill puts it, “the determined fixing of our will upon God, and pressing toward him steadily and without deflection.”[1] In this comprehensive exploration of Christian mysticism, the saints who are its heroes, the prayers of worship, the practices of silence by which they “fixed their will” upon love, Underhill invites every believer to journey more deeply into the reality and life of God. Now, I’ll admit, this is quite a tome. I include it here because for me it was a turning point in my prayer life, a book that demonstrated the focus, depth, and devotion that is possible for every Christian who yearns to become increasingly suffused with the life and reality of Christ. If you’re looking for an easier place to begin, you might want to try Concerning the Inner Life or even the chatty and practical The Letters of Evelyn Underhill.
Jesus and the Victory of God by N. T. Wright
N. T. Wright is one of the most influential theologians in the Christian church today, and one of his driving messages is that Jesus is King—not just over the church, but over the whole world. Wright’s gift lies in his capacity to see the full story and power of what Jesus has accomplished in his death and resurrection, and the goal of this book is to draw readers into a fresh confrontation with the Gospels—the aspects we know and the ones we haven’t noticed nearly enough in their implications for a world reclaimed by God.
I also have greatly benefited from Wright’s everyman commentary in Paul for Everyone. I have found him indispensable in getting to the pith of Paul’s letters or tracing the theological themes in Romans. A serious but readable commentary accessible to the average reader.
Also by Wright:
Surprised by Hope
After You Believe: Why Christian Character Matters
Simply Christian
What’s So Amazing about Grace? by Philip Yancey
The core of this book boils down to the single assertion that “God loves people because of who God is, not because of who we are.” Grace is central to the gospel: it’s what makes us believers, but it is also the thing we struggle to internalize on the level of our everyday actions and emotions. Using startling stories and Scripture, literature and personal history, Yancey weaves a book that follows the old writing maxim of showing us grace instead of just telling us about it. It’s why I love him as an author: his books are honest explorations of the topics he tackles, starred by great stories and his own history as a Christian. He asks the hard questions and finds a way to answer them in a way that makes what could be abstract—grace, doubt, faith—near and real for his readers.
Also by Yancey:
The Jesus I Never Knew
Soul Survivor
Reaching for the Invisible God
[1] Evelyn Underhill, “What Do We Mean by Prayer?” Renovaré, September 21, 2016, https://renovare.org/articles/what-do-we-mean-by-prayer.
“What to Do with the Time We’ve Been Given”: Books That Helped Me Navigate Contemporary Culture
(OR, HOW TO LIVE WITH GANDALF-LIKE WISDOM)
I AM AN UNABASHEDLY old-fashioned soul who sympathizes with Frodo’s wish that he had not been born in such a difficult or complicated age. There is much to treasure in the contemporary world, but also—oh my goodness—much to wrestle with amid a host of contending voices. What is culture? How does one think about creation care and racial reconciliation? In the midst of those questions, I have often wished I could ask my grandparents what in the world they think about iPhones or the travel age. I have deeply craved a wisdom larger and longer than my own.
Most of my grandparents passed away before I was old enough to really know them or even reach the first pangs of existential angst. But I’ve often felt that the authors of the cultural commentaries I have read who offer that broader, more nuanced view of the world have served as honorary grandparents, helping me to make sense of the world I have inherited. For example, there’s Charles Taylor, who has helped me handle my doubt by his explanation that nobody gets to just stumble into faith in the modern age because we are aware of so many choices, and Wendell Berry, who has shaped the way I think about community with his grumpy (but spot-on) assertion that the problem of the modern world is that everyone thinks they would be better people if they could only go somewhere else. And then there’s Gandalf, saying to me as much as to Frodo that bemoaning the age of my birth isn’t really a faithful reaction. To look about, take stock, and set to creative work—that’s what’s faithful, and that’s what the books in the list below have helped me to do.
Whether helping me to think wisely about technology or the tension between online interaction and actual connection, or helping me to make sense of the yearning I feel for home or the recent movement toward the local and small, these authors explain the hunger, frustrations, and needs of my own generation with a calm wisdom I could not muster alone. They teach me how to see and work for the health of the world in which I stand.
The Art of the Commonplace by Wendell Berry
Reading The Art of the Commonplace was an epiphany for me. For the first time in my twentysomething life, I felt I could finally articulate my vague unease with big business, consumer culture, and the impersonal nature of the online world. I’ve developed a reputation with my tutors and fellow students in Oxford as being slightly obsessed with Berry because I recommend his essays to every person who is willing to talk books with me and because I can usually draw some connection between one of his novels and a given theological point. I do this because his voice comes to me in the clear, sane, ringing tones of a mentor who stands a little outside my age, able to explain it to me and call me back to my senses. Berry is known as an agrarian author, one whose wisdom as a farmer drives his contention that the health of a culture begins with fidelity—to marriage, to our “p
lace on earth,” and in our membership to the community that grows up around us. This is my favorite collection, and “Health Is Membership” is an essay I try to read once a year. But then, I’m trying to read all of Wendell Berry before I die.
Life Is a Miracle: An Essay against Modern Superstition by Wendell Berry
How can you resist a title like that? This was one of the first Berry books I read, having discovered it on a low and dusty shelf in the crammed apologetics library at English L’Abri. I read it in various garden corners, engrossed by Berry’s spirited skewering of the reductionist or materialistic view of life, which reduces humans to physical parts and denies the living mystery of divine, creative love so richly evident in the beauty and complexity of creation. The world might soon be divided, he thinks, between “people who wish to live as creatures and people who wish to live as machines,” but Berry will be with those who see life as a miracle and live in its wonder.
Also by Berry:
Sex, Economy, Freedom and Community
Standing by Words
The Unsettling of America
The Discoverers: A History of Man’s Search to Know His World and Himself by Daniel J. Boorstin
This is my bit of history with this title. First, this book was recommended to me by a professor who had just given a riveting talk on history at a C. S. Lewis conference I attended. Then I happened upon a copy at a library sale. When I looked inside the cover, I found the previous owner’s name next to this intriguing inscription: “The best book I have read.” Of course I bought it. And I reveled in a lively, learned, and fascinating adventure through the history of humanity’s yen to know. A book both philosophical and historical, tracing the great discoveries and explorations of history. A mesmerizing historian, Boorstin has also written the following titles:
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