A reader of this site recently got in touch to ask me for some book suggestions. She has been a believer for quite a long time and along the way has heard of the value of reading “Christian classics.” Yet she hasn’t been sure where to begin and asked for some guidance. I was glad to take on that challenge!

In this article I will offer some suggestions that cover various eras from the early church until the late twentieth century. I should note that these recommendations will tend more toward literature that is devotional than scholarly or purely theological. And I should note as well that there is not a person in the world who will agree with every book I’ve included and every book I’ve excluded—and that is just fine because there is always a degree of subjectivity to these things. And now, without further ado, here are some Christian classics to consider reading.
John Bunyan allegorical The Pilgrim’s Progress is one of the bestselling books in all of history and a great place to begin. It has never gone out of print and in one way or another has influenced every generation of Christians since it was first published in the late 1600s. For those reasons alone it is well worth a read. Though you can find modernizations that adapt the language either lightly or significantly, the original is still surprisingly accessible. There are also some lovely audio versions available. If you’d like to listen to it, I recommend the Nadia May recording. If you’d like to read a slight modernization, this one by Crossway is well done. Otherwise, perhaps try this edition. (Most editions contain part 1 and part 2—the journeys of Christian and Christiana. You can consider yourself to have read The Pilgrim’s Progress once you complete part 1 since that is the original work.)
Note: When it comes to books that are out of copyright, you’ll often find many different editions at Amazon, eBay, and other sites that will sell pretty much anything. It’s worth being careful because a lot of them are very poorly printed or bound—often little more than photocopies of old editions that are then cheaply slapped together. Get used to clicking the “See all formats and editions” link on a book’s page and then looking for an edition by a reputable publisher. If you shop at Westminster Books or a similar bookseller, you shouldn’t run into this issue as they will already have curated the books they sell.
We should go back in time a little to make sure we don’t neglect the earliest Christian classics, which include the most noteworthy work of Augustine: Confessions. It is available in a multitude of editions and translations.
I know little about the 1,000 years between Augustine and the Puritans so don’t have a lot to offer here beyond names like Dante and Thomas Aquinas. But as far as I can tell, this was not an era in which there were a lot of devotional works that have since been affirmed by Protestants. (Authors like Thomas à Kempis and Brother Lawrence are still read and treasured today, but typically not by Reformed Protestants.) Calvin’s A Little Book on the Christian Life gets us into the Reformation era and is an excerpt of the most practical section of his Institutes.
You may have heard of the Puritans and been told you should try reading their books. When we talk about “Puritan books,” we are talking about thousands of titles written over more than a century, many of them incredibly voluminous, so there are more options than any one person could read in a lifetime (except maybe Joel Beeke). Thankfully time has served as a filter and brought many of the best works to the surface. Among them is Precious Remedies Against Satan’s Devices in which Thomas Brooks instructs us in how to resist Satan’s temptations. The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment by Jeremiah Burroughs tells why contentment is so fleeting and how Christian can achieve it, The Bruised Reed by Richard Sibbes offers hope for those who are suffering, while Thomas Watson’s The Godly Man’s Picture presents a “picture” of mature Christian character. Those are great options to begin with. For something slightly more advanced, try Sin and Temptation by John Owen—still the definitive work on the subject. You also can’t go wrong with Foxe’s Book of Martyrs, Anne Bradstreet’s works of poetry, or Samuel Rutherford’s wee little The Loveliness of Christ. The Puritan Paperback series by Banner of Truth and the Puritan Treasures for Today by Reformation Heritage Books can guide you into many more options.
Let me interject with a note about Puritan works. Many Puritan classics are actually excerpts from longer works, so you may find the same content in a number of different places. Also, a few of them now have modernized editions in which either the text has been rewritten in modern English or has simply been annotated to assist in understanding. With some authors this really isn’t all that necessary, but with others it can be very helpful. The best in this category are the John Owen books edited by Justin Taylor and Kelly Kapic.
When it comes to post-Puritan classics from the 1700s and early 1800s, I confess that my knowledge is a bit lacking. You might consider Real Christianity by William Wilberforce or The Religious Affections and The Diary and Journal of David Brainerd by Jonathan Edwards. Memoir & Remains of Robert Murray M’Cheyne by Andrew Bonar was published in the mid-1800s. The sermons of George Whitefield and the hymns of Charles Wesley are rewarding, though these last two probably don’t quite count as classic books. The same would be true of the letters of John Newton. Lemuel Haynes wrote in this era and, while I don’t think any of his books are considered classics, his sermons are enjoyable—perhaps especially “Universal Salvation.”
As we get deeper into the 1800s and come to the early 1900s, I have read much more so can offer more confident suggestions. J.C. Ryle’s Holiness and Thoughts for Young Men are rewarding reads. Theodore Cuyler’s God’s Light on Dark Clouds is a beautiful work on suffering while P.B. Power’s A Book of Comfort for Those in Sickness is exactly what it sounds like. This was an era in which sermons were often transcribed and printed in periodicals, so you can find entire volumes of sermons from men like Charles Spurgeon, D.L. Moody, or De Witt Talmage that are a joy to read. You will actually find that a good number of the books in their names are really just adapted sermons. Machen’s Christianity and Liberalism is more theological than devotional, but crucial to understanding liberalism. John Murray’s Redemption Accomplished and Applied is brilliant.
For more contemporary classics (by which I mean works from the late 1900s that seem destined to survive the ages) I suggest The Attributes of God by A.W. Pink (which is self-explanatory), Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis (which is Lewis’s best known apologetic work), Knowing God by J.I. Packer (which is a kind of introduction to the Christian faith), The Cross of Christ by John Stott (which is a description of what God accomplished through the substitutionary death of Jesus Christ) and The Holiness of God by R.C. Sproul (which calls us to know and love God as holy, holy, holy). Through Gates of Splendor by Elisabeth Elliot is a biography that had a massive impact on world missions.
If I had to plot out a short reading list with one book from each era, I might go in this order: The Pilgrim’s Progress, The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment, A Little Book on the Christian Life, Holiness, Knowing God, Confessions, the Religious Affections. Either way, I hope this article brings some clarity and motivates you to explore some of the true classics of the Christian faith.

I suppose it is possible that I have witnessed a miracle in my lifetime, but if so, I’m not aware of it. If a miracle is a “supernatural, extraordinary event that diverges from observed natural processes,” then I can’t think of a time that I’ve seen a clear example of one. That’s not to say that God can’t work miracles today or that he doesn’t. That’s not to say he hasn’t worked around and about me in extraordinary ways. It’s simply to say that I can’t look at a particular event in my life and say, “That was a miracle.”

And if I’m honest, this doesn’t bother me in the least. It doesn’t bother me in the least because on many occasions I’ve witnessed something I count equally significant or perhaps even more so: I have witnessed the evidence and the intricacy and the perfect timing of God’s providence. I have witnessed how God has carefully arranged circumstances so that events unfolded in a way that proved his detailed involvement in the affairs of man. I have witnessed situations in which things “just so happened” in such a way that I could only conclude, “The Lord did this.”
I recount one of these in Seasons of Sorrow, in the chapter I title “Angels Unaware.” I tell of a day when Aileen and I were particularly sorrowful, particularly overcome with grief. We went to the cemetery to mark what would have been Nick’s wedding day. And as we stood there weeping together, a lovely Christian couple approached us and explained that they had been reading my updates. They showed us where their son was buried nearby and then they prayed for us—prayed down God’s comfort upon us.
This was no miracle. This was not a supernatural, extraordinary event that diverged from observed natural processes. God did not summon these people from heaven or fabricate them from thin air or instantly transport them from afar. Rather, he arranged that they would visit their son’s grave on this day and at this time (even though this was not their custom) and that Aileen and I would visit our son’s grave on this day and at this time (even though this was not our custom). Long prior to this he had arranged that our sons would be buried close to one another—close enough that this couple would spot us across just a few rows of graves. He had arranged that they would be familiar with my website and with our story and that they would recognize our faces. He arranged all this so that, when we most needed comfort, two of his people would be there to provide it.
Think of all the threads that needed to be woven together for this one circumstance to occur—the events that needed to take place, the decisions that needed to be made, the schedules that needed to be aligned. As we parted ways that day, Aileen and I both knew without the smallest shadow of a doubt: God did this. In fact, Aileen has often said that this was the very moment she really understood that God was caring for us in our loss. And it was not through a miracle, but through providence.
Though I don’t recount it in the book, a similar situation happened a short time later. I had another especially difficult day and once again needed to be near Nick. I went alone this time, parked on the little roadway at the cemetery, and got out of my car. And I “just so happened” to see one of our deacons and his wife sitting in their car, about to drive off. They “just so happened” to have visited Nick’s grave on that day and to be there at that moment. So I walked over to their car and said, “I’m having a hard day. Will you pray for me?” And they did, of course. And again, I knew that God had been present through his providence. I knew that he had arranged this for my benefit and as a display of his love.
I can look back on life and recount more stories—stories in which God worked providentially rather than miraculously. I could tell of the evening I visited a friend and “just so happened” to cross paths with one of his neighbors, a girl who was out playing a game with some of the local kids. A few months later I began twelfth grade at a new school and who should plunk herself down in the seat ahead of me in my very first class, but that very same girl. We became friends, I introduced her to Christ, and our next wedding anniversary will be our twenty-fifth. And it all began and unfolded not through miracles but through providence—through God’s deliberate and intricate coordinating of the circumstances of different people and different places and different times.
I once spent my lunch break on a walk in which I was agonizing over whether I should resign from my job to start my own business and dedicate more of my time to writing. When I got back to my desk my manager summoned me to his office, told me I was being laid off, and handed me a severance check. Providence. I once “randomly” clicked a link on my blog which led to a pastor who would become a dear friend and whose church my family would settle into and come to serve. Providence. I once had my car break down in an extremely dangerous spot on the highway and during a terrible rainstorm, only to see that a tow truck had been right behind me. Providence. Time and again my life has testified to the beauty of God’s providence.
The reason I share this is that I know of many Christians who crave miracles and who long to see one. They long to see a miracle because they are convinced it will buoy their faith and increase their confidence in God. And while the Bible does not forbid us from longing for miracles, neither does it instruct us to. It makes no promises that we will witness one and does not associate the presence or strength of our faith with them. (If anything, it does the opposite.) But wouldn’t it be tragic if we spent our lives searching for miracles while overlooking providence? Wouldn’t it be tragic if God was working wondrously in us, and for us, and through us, and around us—and we missed it because he chose not to work miraculously?
I am not saying we should not pray for miracles. That’s perhaps especially true when praying for those whose diagnosis is dire or whose situation is tragic and for whom nothing but a miracle can save. But I am saying that God’s power is displayed around us in ways that are equally significant and perhaps even more awe-inspiring if only we will look and observe and recount. For while God occasionally displays his glory through miracles, he far more commonly displays it through the beauty of providence. Look for it and you will see it; see it and you will praise him for it.

This week the blog is sponsored by Acts29 and is written by Matthew Spandler-Davison the vice president for global outreach for Acts 29 and manages Acts 29’s Church in Hard Places initiative. He is also a church planter and pastor of Redeemer Fellowship Church in Bardstown, Kentucky.

Charles Spurgeon, the known Baptist preacher in Victorian England once said, “One night alone in prayer might make us new men, changed from poverty of soul to spiritual wealth, from trembling to triumphing.” There is a powerful truth conveyed in this statement, that even in our hardest times and in the hardest places, we can trust that God is always at work. 
Few of us would claim to be comfortable in the hard moments of life, let alone the hard places. And yet, this is the day-to-day reality of many pastors and Christians. Much of our world lives in the midst of real suffering, conflict, or a mixture of the two. One billion people live on less than $1USD a day. Over three billion people live in isolated and remote places that are often cut off from resources. Today there are over 50 countries where the risk of persecution for Christians is either “extreme” or “very high.”
There are places where life is hard in every nation and in every city. In the United States; for example, over 32 million people live under the poverty line, and cities like Detroit, Memphis, and Philadelphia have high crime rates. The hardship in these contexts is real—and yet God’s work through his pastors and churches is undeniable. 
In all these areas, God is making a way. This has been his promise for generations: “I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert” (Isa. 43:19 ESV). He is a God who pursues those who wander and has compassion on those who suffer. He is the one who takes the old clay and fashions it into something new. Right now God is at work to rescue and redeem the lost and hurting in the most hard to reach places.
Let me share a story of a friend of mine named Gabe. Gabe grew up in Liberia, and in 1989 civil war broke out and ravaged his country. In the midst of violence, poverty, and famine caused by the war, Gabe fled to a refugee camp. There, he learned of Jesus and felt a burning passion to preach the gospel to all he met.
Gabe was in a hard place preaching God’s Word. That should seem like enough of a challenge.
But soon, as some in contexts of poverty do, Gabe fell prey to the prosperity gospel, and the teaching infiltrated the church where he was pastoring. In the midst of teaching heresy, Gabe reached out to me. He was looking to become a better pastor but needed help. Many ministries would not risk investing time and resources in someone preaching a false gospel as Gabe was. But, we took the risk and enrolled him into the two-year Acts 29 Church in Hard Places Apprenticeship program. There, Gabe learned about the true gospel and gained valuable training even as he continued to be in community with other pastors and Christians in Liberia. Gabe saw how he was deceived and turned course, leading his church away from the prosperity gospel. Today, he preaches and plants churches that are offering lasting hope for those wounded by the 14-year war in his nation. 
We want to be like Jesus, who runs toward those who wander and has compassion on those who suffer. We want to be where he is at in the hard places of our world because we believe that by doing so, we will see him work in remarkable ways. And we can’t be content to sit back and wait for those working in the hard places to come to us for support. We want to be like Jesus—we want to go where they are, see how God is working, and partner with pastors and planters in those communities so they can extend the hope of Christ in the midst of great darkness.
Through Acts 29’s Church in Hard Places initiative, we see God working in incredible ways in some of the most difficult contexts—in urban centers blighted by violence, racial strife, and poverty; in rural communities facing drug epidemics and generational poverty; in restricted-access nations where persecution is real; and in remote populations seemingly left behind by a world in fast-forward motion, we are seeing disciples being made as churches are being planted.
Christian pastors and church planters who are working to make disciples in the hard places need our partnership. They need to know they are not alone—and they need the support of others to help them continue when there seems no end to the suffering they see. I believe that God is the master potter who is creating something great for his glory in the darkest of places, and that he is asking us to walk with his people who see that, even in the forgotten and forlorn places of our world, he is there drawing people to himself and as he does He is making all things new.
Check out This brief video so you can discover how Acts 29 is working to make disciples in the hard places and find out how you join us in this work.