Why Did I Stop Reading in the First Place?

On the Contagious Joy of Reading

The discourse around the reading crisis is everywhere. Anecdotes abound, and think pieces are ubiquitous across the internet. According to the NEA, more than half of American adults reported not even reading one book for pleasure in 2022. And if you all are like me, you’re inclined to over-report how much you’re reading. The famed actor Ethan Hawke gave an interview recently where he lamented that he has been watching his own reading diminish and he hates it. Hawke’s introspection pinged a memory in me. I had my own reading crisis from about age twenty-two to twenty-seven, a space of years where I gave up serious reading entirely.

But why? Why did I stop reading?

There are ready-made excuses everywhere. I was young and doing a whole bunch of things: MMA, grad school, trying to figure out a career.

But I think it’s simpler. I had no book enthusiasts in my life. I don’t know that I read a single book during this time, with the exception of Harry Potter. I was reading to escape and not much else. The enthusiasts in my life at the time were excited about watching sports, drinking beer, pursuing Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and MMA. So that’s what I was excited about.

This ended when I found serious-minded Christians who took reading seriously. They delighted in pointing me towards theologians, pastors, Puritans, and many of the ‘great’ works in Christianity. Their enthusiasm became my enthusiasm. This was also coupled with a spiritual transformation in me, so the effect was immediate. Friends pointed me towards Piper, Pink, and the Puritans.

My serious reading remained theological. I became one of those tepid souls that said, ‘I don’t really read fiction.’ Fast-forward to 2025, and I had the fortune of meeting some true enthusiasts at work. Colleagues who love great literature, great philosophy, and great poetry. They loved these works and they talked about them, wrote about them, thought about them. And I caught that excitement. The last time I had any such interest was in high school, where I had some tremendous teachers who were true literature enthusiasts. Upon reflection, I think excitement about the books you’re teaching should be a job requirement. But when you reach adulthood, you do not have teachers to try and get you excited about dusty old books. It is far more common to have friends, colleagues, and influences who talk about the latest movie or television show. And that’s not bad! Nor is it bad to pursue physical achievements. I am not looking to pit joy against joy.

There are specific things that enthusiasts helped alleviate in my time of little reading. First, reading the books that have stood the test of time can be intimidating. While at school, we have built-in enthusiasts—teachers and professors. After school days, these guides are not as obvious. I knew enough about literature to know that there were depths to be found, but that those depths took close reading, time, and attention. I assumed that without a guide, I would miss so much that it wouldn’t be worth it. Reading with enthusiasts, who do know a bit more than you, helps bridge that gap. What’s more, the best enthusiasts will help you to see, not simply tell you what a passage means.

Reading seriously also seemed like one of those high-minded things I should do, sort of like chess. For me, reading deeply had some vague, desirable benefit that I couldn’t quite grasp. And with any pursuit that carries some sort of internally felt status, I felt fraudulent. ‘These kinds of books aren’t for me; I’m not a gentleman of leisure nor Oxford-educated.’ Thoughts like this kept me away. Yet again, it was reading with others that removed that self-doubt. They too were exploring the books and finding new insights, even on a fifth read-through. We never arrive, and there’s no entrance exam for reading classics.

I also had a vague notion of not reading anything frivolous. We can only read so many books in our lifetime, maybe four thousand if we’re really disciplined and focused. And as an aspiring pastor, I thought maybe all my reading intake should be theological. But reading with enthusiasts helped me see the great works are in conversation with the great questions of life. What is truth? What is the best way to live? What does God expect of me if he exists? What do we as human beings owe to one another? Wise theological thinkers learn from these conversations.

And even better, reading these works with others meant talking about those questions together. Those conversations have theological value. Reading with enthusiasts opened up books, ideas, and friendships to me. It can do the same for you.