100 Books Like Heaven and Hell

I was astonished when I opened this book and saw all the gorgeous art depicting heavens, hells, and afterlives from around the world. The colors and printing are lush, and it’s incredible to see everything from brightly colored Islamic art showing magnificent gardens of paradise to ancient illustrated manuscripts of Valhalla and mind-bending medieval portraits of Christian hell.

I also love the full, yet concise, descriptions of every hell, underworld, purgatory, and heaven that humans around the world and throughout history have imagined. I learned so much about the different cultures and religions through their visions of the afterlife, and all alongside the art depicting it. I feel like I got an art history class as a bonus!

I love the originality of this book—who ever would have thought to write about the geology of hell but a geologist? As a big-time nerd, I loved the deep dive into science, mixed with the stories and legends of people around the world.

I laughed out loud several times reading this guide to the afterlife; who knew Jeopardy Champion and host Ken Jennings was so funny? I really felt his sense of wonder and excitement come through as he explores the various forms of heaven, hell, purgatory, and underworld that people have described over the course of human history, including plenty from modern pop culture.

It’s all done with a bit of tongue-in-cheek humor, like the “travel tips” for the newly dead who wakes up in an unexpected afterlife. It’s a light, fun read, and I liked that I could pick it up and read a short section at any time.

When I needed a concise overview of the history of hell, from Egyptian Duat to modern-day versions of Christian hell and all the many other versions around the world, this book gave me just what I needed. The tone and language are lighthearted, which keeps the subject interesting without getting too dark or depressing.

I liked how the authors break down hell into its common components, asking questions like “Where is hell?” and “Who’s in charge?” and giving a sense of how people have answered these questions in different places and times. I walked away feeling like we were all connected through this shared history of curiosity about the afterlife.

The year 381 marked the point at which the new Roman emperor, Theodosius, convened the Church council that outlawed Arianism and made Jesus’ role as God incarnate, the Second Person of the Trinity, an essential part of Christian orthodoxy. For the historian Charles Freeman, this noxious combination of secular and ecclesiastical power stands as the origin of the development he described earlier in The Closing of the Western Mind (Anchor, 2005). Freeman’s analysis of the “Greek-ification” of Christian thinking is very sharp, and he tells the story of Theodosius well, even if he sometimes seems to be reading elements of modern dictatorial leadership back into that emperor’s character. A stimulating, provocative read. 

In this lively and knowledgeable history of Christian controversies of the fifth century CE, Philip Jenkins produces a valuable and colorful sequel to the story told in When Jesus Became God. This book reveals what happened after the Council of Constantinople adopted a Trinitarian view of Jesus and Roman power shifted to the Byzantine East. The council “settled” the Arian controversy for the time being but generated an even more ferocious series of battles over Jesus’ divine/human nature and the relationship of Christianity to Greek thought. As the book’s subtitle suggests, Jenkins has a fine time showing how an admixture of imperial politics, Church politics, and theological ideas created “orthodox” Christian thought and practice. 

This book is quickly becoming a classic in the faith and work area. For me personally, it offered a solid Biblical foundation for my thinking on the goodness of work, the Creation Mandate, and the Doctrine of Vocation.

I particularly appreciated the chapter on the dignity of work, where Keller outlines the value of work for all human beings regardless of their status and pay. We are also free to seek work that aligns with our gifts and passions.

Finally, Keller discusses the impact of the Fall on our work in a very refreshing way. I appreciate this book because it gives us solid reasons to strive for skill and patience in our places of work. 

This is a wonderfully mind-expanding book which gently takes the history of philosophy that you think you know and turns it on its head. Most of the great critics of Christianity – Spinoza, Voltaire, Tom Paine, they’re all here – were not really, it turns out, atheists trying to tear it all up: they were idealistic, reforming believers who weren’t satisfied with churchy orthodoxies and wanted to purify religions that they thought had become corrupted. That made them maybe even fiercer in their criticisms, and it certainly meant they had unleashed forces they couldn’t control. But it means the moral force that drove anti-religious criticism during the Enlightenment was the desire, not to destroy religion, but to perfect it.

All who are convinced that the Middle Ages was a barbaric period in which emotions were on the whole angry and violent will quickly change their mind as soon as they pick up this book. It shows that, far from being a stagnant interlude between the richly emotional worlds of classical antiquity and our own age, the period we call the Middle Ages was in constant emotional ferment, drawing above all on the implications of Christ’s passion and what it meant for human sensibilities.

Scholarly works that deal with the subject of near-death experiences in the history of religions are very rare.

This one also happens to be well-written, in a clear and accessible style. It contains a wealth of information about ideas of the afterlife in Late Antiquity that will be unfamiliar to even the most dedicated readers on the subject.

It’s also another great example of a rigorous, knowledgeable scholar concluding that visionary experiences such as NDEs contribute to the formation of afterlife beliefs.

By setting the context with chapters on “Journeys to paradise in the Jewish Apocalyptic tradition” and “Otherworld journeys in the Greco-Roman traditions,” Potthoff reminds us that Christianity did not develop in isolation but was one of various interlinked Mediterranean religions.

It also shows further how these kinds of beliefs and experiences are found around the world and throughout history.