Have a Little Faith: A True Story

“He had to form his own vision of God. He pictured a giant, dark cloud with eyes that weren’t human. And a crown on its head. At night, Henry begged the cloud to keep the rats away.”

Here, Albom captures Henry Covington’s understanding of God at a young age. At this point, he views God as a mysterious force that can provide wish fulfillment upon request. Naive as this view seems, Henry’s conception of God as a sort of lender of last resort, to be appealed to when all else fails, would remain basically intact for the first few decades of his life. Later, he would come to feel a stronger obligation to give back to God, rather than continuing to seek his own benefit.

“Already, at that age, I sense the world as ‘us’ and ‘them.’ If you’re Jewish, you’re not supposed to talk about Jesus or maybe even look at Jesus.”

Albom reflects on seminal experiences from his youth that demonstrate the fundamentally divisive view of religion he initially held, until his conversations with the Reb pushed him to reevaluate them. Tensions between Judaism and Christianity were particularly prominent, both due to the partially shared yet diverging history of the two religions, as well as the fact that Christianity was the dominant religion in the area where Albom grew up. In this passage, Albom’s curiosity about Christianity is mixed with a certain guardedness.

“‘Mitch,’ he said, ‘faith is about doing. You are how you act, not just how you believe.’”

When Albom questions the Reb about his continued adherence to ritual during his twilight years, this is the Reb’s response. For the Reb, religious rituals are the building blocks of faith, forming a defense against apathy and cynicism. Over time, Albom comes to feel that some of his needs, including a wish for stability and connection, could be filled through renewed faithful activity.

“We call it a Kehillah Kedoshah—a sacred community. We’re losing that now. The suburbs have changed things. Everyone has a car. Everyone has a million things scheduled. How can you look out for your neighbor? You’re lucky to get a family to sit down for a meal together.”

The Reb occasionally draws attention to social trends he has observed over the course of his life, including the disintegration of community values he discusses here. The Reb’s critique of modern, fast-paced, individualistic lifestyles touches Albom directly, as he exemplifies such a lifestyle himself but finds that he appreciates slowing down to visit the Reb more than he expected. He discovers, as the Reb’s words imply, that building community requires significant time investment, but he also finds that the sacrifice is more than worth the result.

“When I asked the Reb, Why do bad things happen to good people?, he gave none of the standard answers. He quietly said, ‘No one knows.’”

One of the Reb’s most notable qualities is his humility, including his willingness to admit the limits of his own knowledge. When asked about the necessity of human suffering, the Reb doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. His admission, instead of clouding faith, enhances it, as he demonstrates remarkable trust in a higher power.

“It is far more comforting to think God listened and said no, than to think that nobody’s out there.”

Here, the Reb compares the situation of those who believe with those who do not, suggesting that even disappointed faith is preferable to the oblivion that accompanies disbelief. Throughout the book, he and Henry repeatedly face difficult, disappointing situations, and Albom shows particular interest in how each of them maintains faith in such situations. This passage offers a partial answer: During such times, faith in God becomes even more essential.

“My friends, if we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of ‘I could have, I should have.’ We can sleep in a storm.”

This excerpt from a sermon given by the Reb epitomizes his powerful rhetorical style as a speaker. Using a personable tone, he draws on scriptural and other stories, elaborating their symbolic significance and connecting them to the daily lives of his listeners. Furthermore, his eloquently worded sermons demonstrate the extent of his preparation. These excerpts also serve to contrast with Henry’s more improvisational style of preaching.

“It was three days before he could put a morsel of food in his mouth. Three days before he could even lift up out of bed. Three days. And then he opened his eyes.”

Here, Albom’s repetition of the phrase “three days” as he describes a turning point in Henry’s life highlights a parallel between Henry’s life and the life of Jesus, as described in the Bible. According to scripture, Jesus’s body lay in the tomb for three days before he was resurrected. Similarly, Henry lies motionless for three days before he rises to a new life of Christian service. Significantly, this passage takes place around Easter, which is when Christians celebrate the resurrection of Jesus.

“The things society tells us we must have to be happy—a new this or that, a bigger house, a better job. I know the falsity of it. I have counseled many people who have all these things, and I can tell you they are not happy because of them.”

Discussing the nature and source of true happiness, the Reb first highlights certain things that do not lead to happiness. His comments serve as a critique of materialism, showing that those who prioritize things over relationships are, in his view, likely to remain unfulfilled. Reb’s humble lifestyle further underlines his sincere belief in the point he makes here.

“Be satisfied. […] Be grateful. […] For what you have. For the love you receive. And for what God has given you. […] That’s it.”

Here, the Reb explains the secret to happiness, as he understands it, to Albom. As he listens, Albom playfully resists the Reb’s simple clichés, but the eulogy he later gives demonstrates the extent to which he takes these words to heart. At that time, he emphasizes the gratitude he feels for the time he spent with the Reb.

“Whenever I feel the spirit of death hovering, I look at that picture, the whole family smiling at the camera. And I say, ‘Al, you done okay. This is your immortality.’”

As the Reb ponders his mortality, he takes comfort in the family associations that he knows will connect him to future generations. Even though he believes in literal immortality, he also experiences the normal fears and concerns associated with death and the potential to be forgotten. To Albom, he demonstrates the value of faith, ritual, tradition, and community in enduring such challenging moments.

“Because the word ‘commitment’ has lost its meaning. I’m old enough to remember when it used to be a positive. A committed person was someone to be admired. He was loyal and steady. Now a commitment is something you avoid. You don’t want to tie yourself down.”

The Reb identifies the avoidance of commitment as a troubling social trend. The value of commitment emerges not only from his words but also from Albom’s experience as he commits to preparing the Reb’s eulogy. Doing so involves a significant investment of time on his part, but he ends up feeling that he received more than he had to give. In the Reb’s view, commitment is a price to be paid for something that could not be obtained otherwise.

“I don’t care if you’re drunk, or you just left the drug house, I don’t care. When I’m sick, I go to the emergency room. And if the problem continues, I go again. So whatever’s ailing you, let this church be your emergency room. Until you get healing, don’t stop coming.”

Albom is struck by Henry’s welcoming philosophy, which is explained here. Henry presents his church not as a gathering place for those whose lives are already in order but rather as a hospital for those who are struggling. Although Albom initially approaches Henry’s church as an outsider, keen to evaluate it objectively, he finds a measure of healing through his continued attendance.

“If the only thing wrong with Moses is that he’s not yours; if the only thing wrong with Jesus is that he’s not yours; if the only thing wrong with mosques, Lent, chanting, Mecca, Buddha, confession, or reincarnation is that they’re not yours—well, maybe the problem is you.”

Albom takes issue with the prejudices that have historically divided adherents of different faiths. Instead of rejecting anything that is different for superficial reasons, Albom suggests, it is better to remain humble and open-minded. This doesn’t mean entirely abandoning one’s own convictions, but rather expanding one’s viewpoint through the wisdom offered by other faith traditions. The Reb exemplifies this point when, late in life, he shows interest in the Hindu beliefs of his home health aide.

“Years later, […] whenever I would go to someone’s home who had lost a family member—a young one, particularly—I would try to be of comfort by remembering what had comforted me. Sometimes we would sit quietly. Just sit and maybe hold a hand.”

Following the death of his daughter, the Reb gains new insight into the grieving process, allowing him to offer more meaningful support to others who experience similar losses. This reveals one potential positive outcome of suffering, a subject that he and Albom discuss at length. Notably, the Reb’s newfound knowledge cannot be put into words exactly, since there are no words that can take away such profound pain. Instead, companionship is key, even in silence, connecting with the Reb’s larger emphasis on community engagement.

“No, I say. You knew me. You knew that person, but you don’t know the person that I’m trying to become.”

During a sermon, Henry differentiates between the person he used to be and the person he is now. Initially, Albom cynically believed that people seldom change for the better. His experience with Henry gradually convinces him to accept the reality that, however rare, it is possible for people to change. By the end of the book, he has also witnessed some changes in himself.

“So we were created with a piece of divinity inside us, but with this thing called free will, and I think God watches us every day, lovingly, praying we will make the right choices.”

The Reb attributes much of the pain and suffering in the world not to God’s will but rather to God’s gift of free will to people, who proceed to make poor choices. However, he characterizes God not as being angry at those who fall short but rather cheering them on toward improvement. In much the same way, the Reb strives not to be angry or judgmental toward Albom or anyone else, as when he clarifies that he bears Albom no ill will for marrying a woman of a different faith.

“But it’s not me against the other guy. It’s God measuring you against you.”

When Albom initially approaches Henry, he intends to decide whether to fund Henry’s charity work. As such, he naturally compares Henry’s church to his own preconceived standards as well as to the other shelters whose work Albom supports. In this comment, Cass suggests an alternative criterion for evaluating people, which emphasizes individual growth over time.

“Mitch, it does no good to be angry or carry grudges. […] It churns you up inside. It does you more harm than the object of your anger.”

While the Reb demonstrates some interest in religious doctrine, he is especially careful to provide actionable truths to the people he advises. Here, he emphasizes that anger is worth avoiding not because of some cosmic doctrine but rather because it is intrinsically self-defeating. With the limited time he has available, the Reb would rather work on building up other people.

“I realized something as I drove home that night: that I am neither better nor smarter, only luckier.”

Albom has an epiphany after visiting with Henry. His realization of the role of luck in shaping his life and the lives of others allows him to move away from notions of superiority and applaud Henry for the changes he has made in his life. This represents a significant development for Albom’s character, as he becomes less judgmental and cynical.

“Eight years later, I sometimes wonder if the whole thing wasn’t some clever rabbi trick to lure me into an adult education course.”

The Reb never fully explains his reasoning for asking Albom to give his eulogy. Here, Albom speculates that the Reb may have extended the invitation as some kind of learning experience for Albom. Regardless of the Reb’s intentions, Albom does end up learning and gaining a lot from the experience, including a newfound appreciation for The Nature and Value of Faith.

“But you know there is a maddening yet majestic reason you cannot speak to us today, because if you could, we might not need faith. And faith is what you were all about.”

In his tribute to the Reb, Albom identifies faith as a central guiding value in the Reb’s life. As he implies here, for faith to exist, there must first be uncertainty. Albom’s characterization of this dilemma as “majestic” suggests that he is beginning to appreciate the value of faith, whereas he used to look down on those who believe.

“And it hit me, finally, that this was the whole point of my time with the Reb and Henry: not the conclusion, but the search, the study, the journey to belief. You can’t fit the Lord in a box. But you can gather stories, tradition, wisdom, and in time, you needn’t lower the shelf; God is already nearer to thee.”

When Albom opens the file on God, he realizes that the idea of God cannot be separated from the search for God, and the search for God is a journey. As the book ends, Albom still has a journey ahead of him, but he is better prepared, having benefited from Henry and the Reb’s examples. More importantly, he is now committed to continuing to explore and develop his faith.