I have never been one for make-believe.
Since childhood, I have struggled with a stunted imagination that rarely extended beyond the boundaries of my own lived reality. I had little interest in playing pretend with friends or reading the latest fantasy novels. Unless something was grounded in possibility or had a real bearing on my life, I simply wasn’t interested. (You might assume this made me the kind of child who ruined Santa Claus for other kids, which, unfortunately, would be correct.)
Because of this, the call to just “believe” has never come easily to me. If something requires me to suspend my reasoning, I am unlikely to accept it.
As a realist and naturally skeptical person—but also a professing Christian—you can imagine my experience when I first read Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis in high school. Lewis’ writing breathed new life into the parts of my soul and mind that were prone to doubt. I walked away from that book with renewed confidence that Christianity offered the most rational and complete explanation of both the world and the human condition.
A similar experience occurred in college when I attended a student worldview conference at Summit Ministries, where Christian thought leaders from across the U.S. gave lectures and led deep conversations on life’s biggest questions. That experience helped me realize that Christianity, despite its marginalization in today’s secular academic circles, is entirely compatible with rigorous intellectual inquiry.
Reading Ross Douthat’s Believe: Why Everyone Should Be Religious (2025) transported me back to those pivotal moments in my life, where faith and reason coalesced harmoniously. In eight concise chapters, Douthat presents compelling arguments for why religion should be taken seriously and explores the options available to today’s spiritual seekers.
His case includes, as he summarizes, “evidence for design and purpose in the universe and the indicators that human life was specifically selected for by this design; the way that human consciousness serves as a strange key fitted to the order of the cosmos; and the persistence and credibility of spiritual and supernatural experience even in a supposedly disenchanted age” (8).
A common thread running through these arguments is that while materialists may explain the building blocks of existence—through quantum theory, neuroscience, or psychology—they can never fully account for the bigger picture. Many fundamental aspects of reality remain assumed rather than explained, lacking answers to the ultimate “how” or “why.” Douthat uses the analogy of understanding every component of a car while still being unable to explain how the car actually runs. He argues that only a religious worldview has the framework to address that deeper question.
Once Douthat lays out these core arguments, his book takes a turn away from traditional Christian apologetics. Instead of making a case for Christianity specifically, he offers guidance for anyone embarking on a religious journey—wherever it may lead them. He barely mentions Christianity until the final chapter, where he presents his own Roman Catholic faith as a case study, cautiously but ultimately affirming Jesus as the one “way, truth, and life” (that’s where he’s hedging his bet, at least). Someone unfamiliar with Christian doctrine and its exclusive truth claims might come away with the impression that all spiritual paths lead to the same destination:
“The idea, rather, is that if some kind of God exists and ordered the universe for human beings, then even a false or flawed religion will probably contain intimations of that reality, signposts for the discerning pilgrim, some kind of call to higher things—such that a sincere desire to find and know the truth can fail to reach truth’s fullness and still find its reward” (129).
This is not so much a critique as a caution for well-meaning Christians hoping to use this book as an evangelistic tool. Douthat himself makes clear that this is not his goal:
“Many arguments for Christianity (or for other faiths as well) take as a given a religious or religion-friendly common culture that no longer exists, particularly among the general book-buying public in the Western world. So it seems reasonable to start at a more fundamental level—with mere religion, not just mere Christianity, and work our way upward to the questions and choices where the great faiths differ and part ways” (7).
Even the book’s subtitle signals that Douthat is making a case for religion in general rather than Christianity in particular. His argument suggests that even if readers land somewhere other than Christianity—or stop short of full belief—they will still be better off than they were before.
Frankly, my own theological convictions wrestle with this approach, but I understand Douthat’s reasoning. Too often, religious people assume skeptics share their foundational worldview. We launch into discussions of salvation without first considering whether the other person even believes in a Creator. As a New York Times columnist writing for a largely secular audience, Douthat seems attuned to the questions and challenges his readers face and crafts his message accordingly, seeking to stir their hearts and minds toward a religious perspective.
Believe is a strong starting point for those curious about faith but not yet open to engaging with a specific theology. In fact, that’s an important aspect of our mission at Praxis Circle, and it helps explain why I gravitated immediately to this book.
While Douthat’s writing is undoubtedly shaped by his faith—and he acknowledges this openly—it is unique in that it assumes nothing about its audience and carries no agenda beyond awakening readers from a materialist stupor.
To find the truth, one will have to do some more searching, but for those who have always viewed religion as an act of blind faith, Believe gives them a truly thought-provoking alternative to consider. When they’re ready, perhaps some of Lewis’ writings will take them closer—if not much of the whole way.
