Review: Believe – Why Everyone Should Be Religious

Cover image of "Believe" by Ross Douthat

Believe: Why Everyone Should Be Religious, Ross Douthat. Zondervan Books (ISBN: 9780310367581) 2025.

Summary: A case for committing to a religious faith, illustrated by the author’s belief in Christianity.

One of the most refreshing things about Ross Douthat is his unapologetic public testimony to his Catholic Christian faith in his op-ed columns in The New York Times. He not only put forward a cogent defense of his faith at the height of the New Atheism, but he continues to bring Christian thought to bear on the most challenging issues of the day. In this book, he has a more modest, but utterly forthright goal. Observing the presumption for atheist materialism among much of the cultural and educated elite, he makes an argument for why everyone should be religious.

Lest this be thought a cloaked attempt at an apologetic for Christianity, Douthat is simply arguing throughout for what might be called “mere religion” as represented by the major world religions, with ones understanding of the Ultimate Reality to be determined by the particular religious beliefs to which one commits. His argument throughout is not for the psychological advantages of being religious. Rather, he argues that religious belief makes the best intellectual sense of the world in which we actually live.

He offers a threefold argument in his first three chapters. Firstly, he observes the ordered, fine-tuned nature of the universe, one in which the emergence of life is possible. Secondly, he observes the inexplicability of consciousness by material causes and how our consciousness is uniquely fitted to perceive the orderly universe. And thirdly, against the disenchanted world of the secularist, he observes the widespread nature of mystical experiences, even of secularists. He notes Craig Keener’s extensive effort to document the miraculous. On the basis of these three bodies of observations, he argues that supernaturalism is the more plausible explanation and religious belief in some form is the most warranted response.

What then is one to do? Douthat proposes that we should think about commitment to one of the major religious traditions. Most of us are insufficiently enlightened to be our own prophets, nor are we our own islands. Belief flourishes within community. Then Douthat takes up the question of how we choose. He argues for an “Emeth” principle, after a C.S. Lewis character. While none of the world’s religions are identical, all point us to some intimations of truth when pursued sincerely and virtuously. He then offers a “decision tree” of questions based personal perspective on whether ethical life or experience are more important, whether we believe in God, gods, or simply an ultimate being, and what we believe happens when we die.

He pauses to address three stumbling blocks to religious belief. Douthat addresses question concerning the problem of evil and why God allows it. Secondly, he explores wickedness within religious institutions. Finally, he considerss why religions are so hung up on sex and why sexual ethics might matter for the religious.

The penultimate chapter discusses “the end of exploring.” Sometimes, it amounts to embracing what we’ve inherited. For others, like Ayaan Hirsi Ali and Paul Kingsnorth, the end is a genuine conversion to a different faith. Or it may be a conversion from secularism to faith. Then, in the concluding chapter, Douthat relates his own journey from baptized Episcopalian through Charismatic Christianity to Catholicism. He explains the appeal of Catholicism for him and his conviction, despite the perennialist perspective, of the truth of the Nicene Creed. He describes the gospel as “the strangest story in the world.” You wouldn’t make up this story, yet he cites scholars like N.T. Wright and Richard Bauckham who attest to the eyewitness accounts of the gospels.

What is most compelling is that Douthat’s case is simply for commitment to a religion. He’s not proselytizing as a Christian. Rather, he uses his own story as an illustration. He tells us what persuaded him, not what should persuade us. Many on the journey to belief will appreciate his respect for different beliefs and his candor about his own. It will frustrate other committed believers that he leaves things so open. But the idea of the unique and ultimate truthfulness of a particular religious tradition is inherent in some but not all religions. For his audience, I am more impressed that he controverts the assumption of the reasonableness of atheism. And I am grateful that he challenges people to choose, and in his closing makes that choice an urgent matter.

The Weekly Wrap: February 9-15

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Remembering a Martyred Saint

I write this on the evening of St. Valentines Day. While we celebrate it as the holiday of romantic love, the day actually marks the martyrdom of the original Saint Valentine in 269 AD. Valentine was kind and he was courageous in testifying to his faith, even in the face of a death sentence. We know little more than that about him.

While imprisoned awaiting death, Valentine wrote notes to encourage his friends, tying them with twine, signing them “from your valentine.” So that’s where the practice of all those “valentines” I had to take and exchange each year at school came from! Seriously, it is an amazing act of selfless kindness for one about to die.

As the story goes, the “valentine” he sent on the day of his death went to a formerly blind girl. A judge in one of his cases gave him a challenge. If his God was so powerful, then ask that God to heal the judge’s blind daughter. Valentine prayed and God healed the girl through him. She lived to see while he died.

Reading fiction is supposed to develop empathy. But empathy is only a feeling if it is not converted to acts of kindness. Of late, our cultural life consists more in threats and harsh words than in kindness. Perhaps it is up to us readers to be the modern Valentines, speaking and acting with kindness in an increasingly coarse world. We may never know those we heal by our kindness. And it could cost us dearly. But if that’s the cost to be kind in a cruel world, I’d choose that in a heartbeat over cold cruelty.

Five Articles Worth Reading

Many of us thought Barbara Kingsolver’s Demon Copperhead one of the best novels we read, chronicling the deadly opioid epidemic in Appalachia. Kingsolver is an example of turning empathy into action. In “‘Demon Copperhead’ Explored Addiction. Its Profits Built a Recovery House,” we learn Kingsolver has used her royalties from the book to start a center for Appalachian women in recovery.

The empathy evoked from literature often comes from its exploration of suffering. In “Beyond the Cage and Fog,” Mary Grace Mangano explores the contrasting ways Gerard Manley Hopkins and Sylvia Plath addressed mental suffering.

Tove Jansson is best known for the Moomins cartoons. Lauren LeBlanc, in “The Outsider Who Captured American Loneliness” reviews a new book by Jansson, Sun City. The setting of the book is a senior community in St. Petersburg, Florida. It explores the loneliness of many who are elderly in America.

Then there is Ross Douthat. Often, the most interesting reads in The New York Times are the op-eds, and Douthat’s are among those. I appreciate his voice as a person of faith, Now, he has a new book out titled Believe: Why Everyone Should Be Religious. “Accidental Pilgrim” adapts content from the book to describe Douthat’s own faith journey.

Finally, it is National Library Lovers Month! Of course, isn’t that the case every month for booklovers. Sadly, not all share our library love. Katie McLain Horner offers practical tips for ways we can support our libraries in “How to Stand Up for Your Local Library by Getting Involved.”

Quote of the Week

I’m a fan of the mysteries of Georges Simenon. It just so happens he was born February 13, 1903. Consider this pithy observation, with which most of us will identify:

“I adore life but I don’t fear death. I just prefer to die as late as possible.”

Miscellaneous Musings

I’ve learned of so many good books through other readers. There is one who not only introduced me to the writing of William Kent Krueger but also to a book I am reading right now. It is And There Was Light, an interesting title for a memoir by a blind French resistance hero, Jacques Lusseyrand.

A Cargo of Eagles is the last of the Albert Campion books by Margery Allingham. I just began it. Whereas I loved the Brother Cadfael series and was sad to come to the last of the books, I honestly feel more relieved to finish Allingham. Convoluted plots, lots of people to keep track of, and an enigmatic sleuth make her books a challenge. Of the Queens of Crime, I rank Sayers, Christie, and Marsh ahead of her, in that order.

I’ve long wanted to read through my grandmother’s Bible. She was a woman of faith who had a profound influence in my life for the few years I knew her. I now have outlived her but I’m curious what her Bible will tell me about her. It is an old Scofield study Bible in the King James Version with tissue thin pages. I began reading it this week.

Next Week’s Reviews

Monday: Jeremy Lundgren, The Pursuit of Safety

Tuesday: Phoebe Farag Mikhail, Hunger for Righteousness

Wednesday: Jill Lepore, The Story of America

Thursday: Archibald A. Alexander, The Log Coillege

Friday: Megan Henning, Nils Neumann, eds., Vivid Rhetoric and Visual Persuasion: Ekphrasis in Early Christian Literature

So, that’s The Weekly Wrap for February 9-15, 2025!

Find past editions of The Weekly Wrap under The Weekly Wrap heading on this page

The Evangelical Penumbra?

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NASA Goddard Space Flight Center [CC BY 2.0] via Flickr

Ross Douthat, in an op-ed piece in the New York Times titled “Is There an Evangelical Crisis?” proposed that evangelical intellectuals and writers and their friends might be part of an “evangelical penumbra” that has overestimated the role of serious theology (and thought in general) to evangelicalism’s sociological success. He raises the question in light of the 81 percent who voted for President Trump whether this “penumbra” might leave evangelicalism, and what this would expose about the movement that is left, one predominantly white and racially segregated, and perhaps more committed to American greatness than the kingdom of God.

In case you are wondering, a “penumbra” is the outer region affected by an eclipse, that is only in a partial shadow or weakened light. In the recent eclipse that crossed North America, central Ohio, where I live was in the penumbra of the eclipse while areas to the south experienced total eclipse. As it happens, I also live in the penumbra Douthat writes about and I deeply resonate with Douthat’s concerns. I’ve lived in a world where we read the Bible cover to cover and discovered a gospel that transcends racial, economic, gender, and national boundaries and a God who loves the world he created and wants us to love and care for it as well. I’ve lived in a world where the transforming work of Christ calls me to not only personal but social holiness–a life pursuing personal integrity and justice in society. I find myself far from perfect in all of this, but unwilling to rationalize my imperfections or the ways our communities of faith fall short. I’ve lived in a world of “taking every thought captive to Christ,” where knowing Christ leads to a kind of intellectual renaissance in which every intellectual endeavor is immeasurably enriched by knowing it is shot through with the glory of God.

It stings to wake up and find that what one assumed to be authentic evangelical Christianity is in fact marginal to much of this movement. No wonder so many of my friends are disenchanted and have decided either to drop the name or leave altogether. I find myself wrestling with what to do about that myself. It seems like a futile thing to say that the evangelicalism of Jerry Falwell Jr., Franklin Graham, and Robert Jeffress is not really evangelicalism when it appears that a majority of white evangelicals identify with that evangelicalism. Yet what disturbs me more is that if I am living in the penumbra, to pursue Douthat’s analogy, then these folks are in the umbra, the place of darkness. I have to admit that it really looks dark to me–politically captive as opposed to being captivated by Christ, considering national greatness more important than the kingdom of God, willing to perpetuate and deepen our racial wounds rather than to heal them, and turning a blind eye to sins they would preach against in their own churches to advance a narrow political agenda.

Dean William Inge is perhaps most famous for his remark that “Whoever marries the spirit of this age will find himself a widower in the next.” I tremble when I consider what is happening right now because I see a movement that is destined to be a bereft widow–abandoned both by the young and the powerful in the years to come. I also haven’t got a clue what will awaken those I see pursuing this destructive path, apart from a Damascus road-type encounter with the Lord himself. It seems this group has no interest in listening to those in the “penumbra.”

So what does one do? Yesterday, I reviewed a book titled Faithful Presence, and I think the author is onto something. I see many local congregations (including my own) that embrace the beliefs that have been a part of my life, who are practicing this kind of faithful presence where I live. They’ve neither departed from an evangelical faith, nor embraced the truncated version of that faith about which Douthat writes. I don’t despair when I look at them. They aren’t trying to wield political clout or stack “the court.” They are too busy feeding the hungry, visiting prisons, finding ways to collaborate with our state’s leaders in addressing our opioid crisis, and forging relationships across racial and economic lines to engage in such stuff. They are too busy thinking about the nations of the world to think about making only one nation great. And they still believe that the good news of Christ’s redeeming work is far more important than the latest “tweet.”

One thing that must also be observed. The people I’m talking about are often part of neither the intellectual or media “elites” within evangelicalism nor the “court” evangelicalism about which Douthat is concerned. Many are thoughtful people who are less interested in writing or talking about their faith than simply living it in their congregations, communities, and workplaces. My hunch is that if anything will endure the winnowing (and widowing) of evangelicalism, it will be these people, who quietly have been the presence of Christ in their communities. And that’s where I think I must remain.