By Randall Smith

But first a note: If you missed last evening's Center for the Restoration of Christian Culture panel discussion, Do We Still Hold These Truths?, featuring Robert Royal, Joseph Pearce, William Fahey, and moderated by Phil Lawler you may now watch the event in its entirety by clicking here. Also, Robert Royal returns with another lecture tonight: Newman on the Development of Doctrine-and Its Corruptions. You can register here for the livestream of the lecture. Now for Randall Smith's column...

I usually resist writing articles of the sort one sees occasionally extolling lists of books one ought to read. My usual reaction to such articles is, "These people do so much reading, and I don't. I barely have time for the other things I'm supposed to do." Either that, or "Great, another dozen books I should be reading that I'm not going to." I'll file that in my folder "More things to feel guilty about."

But a problem arose after I wrote an article recently ("Why Theology?") in which I suggested that, although there is a lot of bad theology that misleads people, there is also a lot of good theology that helps people gain a better understanding of their faith. This is important because, as humans, it is in our nature to ask questions, and it is important that we have good answers.

But here's the problem. After the article appeared, a bunch of people wrote me with a question: What is a good book in theology I should read? (In retrospect, I should have seen that coming.)

Having read my share of medieval texts, I know that the proper answer to any question is: "It depends." Had St. Thomas been writing the response, it might begin: "A good book can be said in several ways." "Good" for what end? "Good" for what person? "Good" for what stage of life?"

So, for example, were someone to ask me, "Name a really good book in theology," I would say, "Augustine's Confessions!" It changed my life. It was instrumental in my conversion to the Catholic faith. But I was a college student, and I had a college student's questions. To find Christians who were serious thinkers, as serious and rigorous as Plato and Aristotle, was to me a revelation of its own.

But if someone asks, "What's a good first book in theology?" would I say: "Augustine's Confessions"? Maybe not. The Confessions can be tough going if you're not ready for that sort of thing.

How about Aquinas's Summa Theologica? Nothing better, in one sense. But it's not exactly the first thing you'd give every person interested in Catholicism. "Objections, replies to objections, respondeo. Huh? Where's Jesus?"

I know people who would likely say: "Read Dante!" Reading Dante is always a good idea. But giving a novice either Dante or Aquinas would be like handing a person learning English Shakespeare's Hamlet and saying: "Here, read this. It's great English." It is, but you could forgive the person for wondering: "Yes, thank you, but do you have anything a little easier to start with?"

So look, there's nothing better than Augustine's Confessions, Thomas Aquinas's Summa Theologica, or Athanasius's On the Incarnation (to name just three of many), so read them if you're ready. But they might not be the best for everyone who wants that "one good book in theology."

If you want a "good book," how about the "good book"? The Bible. Nothing better. But again, it can be a hard slog, especially when you get into Leviticus and Numbers. I'm told Fr. Mike Schmitz's podcast "The Bible in a Year" is good if you want something to listen to. I take it he now has "The Catechism in a Year." That would probably work for some people. I continue to think that the best way of approaching the Scriptures is to get them each day at daily Mass. But it's not an either/or.

I could suggest various "lives" of the saints. Some are good; some are filled with bad, pious fictions. Better to read books written by saints. But if someone unprepared were to read, say, St. John of the Cross's Dark Night of the Soul or St. Thérè...