100 Books Like Mid-Faith Crisis

I have, unfortunately, been invited into a club I never signed up for–the Griever’s Club. It’s not that my losses are exceptional, but I have been desperate to find meaning and hope in them in order to survive them. I lost my best friend of over 25 years to cancer and lost my dad on the same day–two years later–from an unexpected heart attack. I have known grief in other ways, too: unexpected job loss, disease, my children’s health struggles. As a pastor and a follower of Christ, it has been important to me to wrestle honestly for my own faith, and on behalf of other hurting readers.

I have, unfortunately, been invited into a club I never signed up for–the Griever’s Club. It’s not that my losses are exceptional, but I have been desperate to find meaning and hope in them in order to survive them. I lost my best friend of over 25 years to cancer and lost my dad on the same day–two years later–from an unexpected heart attack. I have known grief in other ways, too: unexpected job loss, disease, my children’s health struggles. As a pastor and a follower of Christ, it has been important to me to wrestle honestly for my own faith, and on behalf of other hurting readers.

I have, unfortunately, been invited into a club I never signed up for–the Griever’s Club. It’s not that my losses are exceptional, but I have been desperate to find meaning and hope in them in order to survive them. I lost my best friend of over 25 years to cancer and lost my dad on the same day–two years later–from an unexpected heart attack. I have known grief in other ways, too: unexpected job loss, disease, my children’s health struggles. As a pastor and a follower of Christ, it has been important to me to wrestle honestly for my own faith, and on behalf of other hurting readers.

I have, unfortunately, been invited into a club I never signed up for–the Griever’s Club. It’s not that my losses are exceptional, but I have been desperate to find meaning and hope in them in order to survive them. I lost my best friend of over 25 years to cancer and lost my dad on the same day–two years later–from an unexpected heart attack. I have known grief in other ways, too: unexpected job loss, disease, my children’s health struggles. As a pastor and a follower of Christ, it has been important to me to wrestle honestly for my own faith, and on behalf of other hurting readers.

I have a passion for becoming a better human being and helping others to do the same. I spent 28 years in parish ministry attempting to remind people of the call of Jesus and the needs of the human heart. I left ministry and operated a private practice as a registered psychotherapist for almost 20 years. I am now retired and an author of three books. I'm still working at the task of becoming a better human being and helping others to do the same. The books I have recommended in my book list are all examples of people with similar mindsets.

I have been exploring the relationship between the brain and religious/spiritual phenomena (a field known as neurotheology) for the past 30 years. My neuroimaging research has helped uncover the brain processes involved with practices like meditation and prayer and a broad array of experiences. The origin of this work derives from evolutionary theories about religion and the brain that tie directly into sexuality. The books on this list greatly helped to provide the foundation for the connection between spirituality and sexuality, opening up all kinds of avenues for exploration, including where human morals, societies, political systems, and religions come from with respect to the human mind.

I am a professor of Medieval Theology at Durham University, UK, and have published on both medieval theology (especially Thomas Aquinas) and spirituality (especially Jan van Ruusbroec, an author from 14th century Brabant). When I was in my early twenties, I had no interest in Christianity, but I gradually realized that the societal and moral problems of modernity could only be properly addressed by examining a genuinely alternative tradition, namely pre-modern thinkers (if only because postmodern critics of modernity remain all too often beholden to the assumptions of modernity, even in their opposition to them). This explains why I was drawn to medieval theology (and spirituality). 

I am a professor of Medieval Theology at Durham University, UK, and have published on both medieval theology (especially Thomas Aquinas) and spirituality (especially Jan van Ruusbroec, an author from 14th century Brabant). When I was in my early twenties, I had no interest in Christianity, but I gradually realized that the societal and moral problems of modernity could only be properly addressed by examining a genuinely alternative tradition, namely pre-modern thinkers (if only because postmodern critics of modernity remain all too often beholden to the assumptions of modernity, even in their opposition to them). This explains why I was drawn to medieval theology (and spirituality). 

My interest in healing and nature stems from a very particular source—my own search for answers in the wake of my wife’s premature death in 2007. I’d read somewhere that loss often either engulfs someone or propels them forward, and I didn’t want to end up in the former category, particularly as I had a young daughter to look after. So this list represents an urgent personal quest that started years ago and still continues to this day. The books have been a touchstone, a vital support, and a revelation—pieces in the jigsaw of a recovery still incomplete. I hope they help others as they’ve helped me.

My first memory is of my father telling me about the cosmos, the Big Bang, and how the sun would burn out one day, expanding so big it would swallow the Earth. This memory haunted my dreams and waking hours, instilling a fascination with the life and death cycles of everything. Now I’m an artist, writer, educator and somatic coach devoted to helping people talk about and honor the things western culture doesn’t create space for–big emotions, messy love and the gifts of dying.