Belief vs. Believing: The Psychology of Pascal's Wager and the Ultimate Poker Game
- Bobby Jakucs, Psy.D.
- Jul 12
- 15 min read
Updated: 6 days ago
“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio / Than are dreamt of in your philosophy”
Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act I, Scene 5
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The Case for Believing (Even Before You Fully Believe)
Have you ever watched a high-stakes poker game? There’s that moment when a player pushes their chips to the center of the table, the air crackles with tension. Maybe they’re bluffing; maybe they’re holding a royal flush. Either way, the stakes feel enormous—not just money, but conviction. The terrifying possibility of losing everything… or winning it all.
While it may have ended in this leap of faith, the player likely made a series of thoughtful decisions. They studied the other players; they recognized the odds of the hand they had. Over many hands, they came to believe this was the right moment.
But it didn’t start there. And that’s really the point. There is a tremendous difference between belief and believing. We can think of belief as that final step, the settled proposition, the “I’m all in.” But believing is a dynamic process. It’s the small steps one takes forward in trust. Not because they are certain, but because they are willing to risk hope.
Thus far, we’ve been talking about cards. But this metaphor applies to the greatest wager of all: whether or not God exists—and whether choosing to believe might change everything. Every choice we make shapes the story of our lives, and perhaps this choice is the most foundational.
The Stoics, for their part, understood this well. They held what one might call a reverent agnosticism about the question of God. Marcus Aurelius described that, “If the gods exist, you do not worship them to gain their favor—but because it is your duty as a rational being to live in accord with nature.”
Why might it be more natural and therefore more beneficial to believe in God? Because even if we are unsure, the act of believing may be in itself transformative.
To understand that, we first need to understand a little bit more about the bet we are making. And for that we are going to turn to the 17th Century mathematician and philosopher Blaise Pascal.
Pascal’s Wager Revisited: From Eternity to Everyday Meaning
Pascal was a rational man, a philosopher and mathematician. He developed numerous theories in geometry and the sciences. He was also a devout Catholic. He combined these insights into a profound existential argument. I say existential because it really relates to us as humans – our belief and the implications - rather than a theological argument for God’s existence.
Pascal looked at the choice before us – is it better to believe in God or not? As a rational person, he applied the risk/reward logic of our poker player above. This argument became Pascal’s Wager:
“Let us weigh the gain and the loss in wagering that God is. Let us estimate these two chances. If you gain, you gain all; if you lose, you lose nothing. Wager than, without hesitation that he is.”(Pensées Fragment 233).
Pascal is contending that the stakes are so high (eternity) that from a risk/reward perspective acting as though God exists - engaging in the process of believing – is a far better bet than not believing. If one is wrong, they lose nothing. Quite literally nothing happens. We die and the lights go out. But if we are on the wrong side of the bet, and God really does exist we have everything to lose.
While Pascal was looking at the eternal implications of this wager we moderns also have the luxury of modern research to look at belief through the lens of psychology. From a purely temporal lens, is it better to move towards God or away?
While Pascal focused on eternal stakes, modern psychology invites us to consider the here and now: Does believing in God bring tangible benefits even if the ultimate question of His existence remains unresolved? To answer this, let’s turn to what the scientific literature tells us about belief’s impact on human flourishing.
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What Psychology Tells Us About Believing
1. Greater Meaning & Purpose
Viktor Frankl’s Logotherapy, later echoed in Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), taught that meaning—especially suffering well—is central to well-being. Religious frameworks consistently help people make sense of adversity and affirm life’s direction. A 2023 meta-analysis found that spiritual or religious involvement correlated with better mental health and purpose in adolescents and young adults (Aggarwal et al., 2023).
2. Resilience & Trauma Recovery
Belief serves as a vital psychological resource in trauma and chronic illness. A 2021 systematic review of 34 studies showed a moderate positive link (r ≈ .40) between spirituality/religiosity and resilience (Schwalm et al). Another study of 329 cancer patients found faith boosted quality of life and coping capacity (Eid et al., 2020).
3. Lower Anxiety & Depression
Evidence indicates religious belief can reduce anxiety and depression over time. A broad meta-analysis across 147 studies (nearly 100,000 participants) found a small but reliable negative correlation between religiosity and depression (Smith et al., 2003). Randomized controlled trials using religion-based interventions reported better outcomes for depressive symptoms compared to standard therapy (Marques et al., 2022).
4. Social Support & Community
Religious communities offer built‑in social networks, shared values, moral purpose, and a sense of belonging. One systematic review confirmed that frequent attendance at services is linked to lower rates of depression and higher life satisfaction (Koenig et al., 2009).
5. Buffering Against Meaninglessness
Existential psychology and terror-management theory emphasize that meaning systems—religious especially—help us face mortality and existential anxiety (Soenke, Landau, & Greenberg, 2013). Frankl argued that transcendent purpose protects against nihilism, and belief in God provides a uniquely resilient anchor.
6. Positive vs. Negative Religious Coping
Importantly, not all faith-based coping is healthy. Research distinguishes positive religious coping (trusting, purpose-driven, communal) from negative coping (blame, spiritual struggle). The former group consistently shows better psychological outcomes (O'Brian et al, 2019).
7. Integration with ACT & Logotherapy
In Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), beliefs are judged by their function—do they help us move toward values? Religious or spiritual beliefs often encourage persistent engagement despite doubt. Frankl would argue that belief opens the door to meaning; ACT teaches that willingness to act in its own uncertainty fosters transformation.
Believing—even tentatively—tends to enhance meaning, build resilience, reduce anxiety/depression, offer social belonging, and protect against existential despair. These are not fringe outcomes they are objective data points. And they are foundational to psychological health.
This isn’t to say believing is a magic formula or a guarantee of an easy life. Oftentimes its the opposite. Rather, it shows how faith can serve as fertile soil for resilience, meaning, and relational depth. From a functional standpoint, belief in God can be a profoundly positive pursuit and goal. Certainly, it does not answer the question of the existence of God. But the research consistently demonstrates it leads to a meaningful existence.
“But That’s the Wrong Reason to Believe…” – Maybe Not
Now you might be saying, that this is to pragmatic, perhaps even inauthentic and self-centered. You might express this by saying “wait, but isn’t that believing for the wrong reasons? Shouldn’t I only believe if I really BELIEVE?.” It’s a fair argument. But it's wrong in two ways. The first is it supposes we are the only one seeking to be known. If God exists, perhaps He is seeking us just as much as we are seeking him. Second, the argument revolves around the way we feel. Let’s tackle that part of it first.
Feelings are important. They are signposts and indicators that something is going on. However, we should not allow our feelings to direct us. Imagine if we did. The first disagreement you had with your spouse you would leave them because in that moment you don’t “feel” love. The first time an important project becomes difficult you’d say, “well that’s enough of that, I don’t feel at ease!” And if parents waited until they felt like changing a dirty diaper at 2:30AM for a crying newborn - well you get the picture. Feelings are signals. We should recognize they are there. But there are many good and meaningful things we do, despite the way we feel at the time.
Now let’s tackle the other objection. Belief in God—especially in the Christian sense—is not mere assent to abstract propositions. It is not saying a magic formula to appease a cosmic giver of gifts. No, It is a step into relationship. Like falling in love or taking a leap toward a new vocation, it begins in trust and grows into intimacy.
Saint Pope John Paul II’s Theology of the Body beautifully illustrates how relationships with others, especially spousal relationships reveal deep truths about our relationship with God. And in that vein we’ll use the marriage relationship as an example.
Like any relationship it has to start somewhere. For those of you who are married there was a time you were not. Obvious I know. But what’s less obvious is you believed that marriage was good. You believed that finding someone was better than being alone. You believed someone was out there for you. You actually believed a great deal. Before you were even married.
You socialized, went on a dates, and probably got your heart broken a few times. Because though unrealized and unproven - and sometimes even un-believable – you acted as if that belief were true. You may have even had the thought at times, “but no one is out there for me” or “maybe I’m better off alone” and yet you kept pursuing it, otherwise you would not be married. You acted on that belief because it was meaningful to you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be married.
Then one day, you met the person who is now your spouse. You likely did not fall in love with them immediately. You likely did not have trust enough after your first date to give them your social security number, or the keys to your car. That trust ultimately grew over time. But it started somewhere.
And it may have been the most superficial of things. The way she smiled, the way he held a door open, or the joke you both shared. Something the other did or said, encouraged you to get to know them more. It stirred up curiosity and desire. And from those grew a deep connection.
What started with faith (“someone is out there”), turned into hope (“I may have found someone”) and culminated in love (“This is someone I could not live without”).That’s the way it goes with relationships, temporal and divine. Which is why St. Paul writes “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (1 Cor 13:13). Love is never the starting point. But it is always the goal.
Believing as a Relationship
To understand believing, we first need to understand we are entering a relationship with God. Amazingly, our brains and bodies actually reflect this relationship as just that, a relationship. An article in the Journal of Neuroscience (2001) utilized fMRI to analyze religious individuals as they engaged in conversational prayer. Essentially, talking to God as we would to someone we know well. It turns out, particular areas of the brain light up, namely the medial prefrontal cortex (mPFC), tempoparietal junction (TPJ), temporal poles, and precuneus become activated. The wild thing is, these are the exact same parts that are related to social cognition and relationships. So neurobiologically our brain’s treat our relationship to God as they would any other intimate relationship - that’s the Theology of the Body picked up in neuroimaging. .
So, let’s for a moment also consider that a relationship is bidirectional. In the Christian sense God desires a relationship with us. In fact, that is the whole point of the Incarnation. “The word became flesh and dwelt among us” (Jn 1:14). So perhaps, He has been pursuing our hearts for a long time. And he will try any and every way to get through to us.
I have a very dear friend who recently began reconnecting with his Christian faith. It started with a combination of events including reading a book by a musician from his favorite band who converted to Christianity after his father passed. This resonated deeply with my friend, who also lost his own father. From there, he a talented musician himself, began exploring and came across Johnny Cash’s reading of the New Testament.
He felt ashamed at first, because he questioned if it was only for entertainment he was exploring faith in God. But what if it was the other way around? More than likely, God was speaking to him in the best way he knew how – through his love of his father and his love for music. And through the incredible voice of Johnny Cash.
After all, in the story of the prodigal son, once the son decides to return his father doesn’t wait there. He leaps for joy. When he sees him coming a long way off, he runs to meet him on the road. Just as he meets us, not in our perfection but in our imperfection. Not in our certitude, but in our questions. He will meet us in our joys. But he will even bow down and meet us in our pain. C.S. Lewis puts it best in The Problem of Pain:
“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”
Whether in the self-interested logic of Pascal’s wager or the New Testament read by Johnny Cash, where he meets us is not where he wants us stay; he wants us to go deeper. It’s not just a bet or entertainment. It’s a starting place—an open door, an invitation.
After all, Pascal didn’t stop with his wager. He was a devout believer. He went all in. What would it look like if we did the same? Lets take a look.
Willingness, Doubt, and the Courage to Begin
But how do we go deeper when we have doubt? Can we hold both - honoring doubt while walking forward in faith?
We actually do this all the time as human beings (in our better moments). We pursue meaningful goals, such as a new career or a new skill. We certainly do it in our relationships like we discussed above. And we do it all despite having fears or anxieties that would tell us to stop and hold back.
In ACT we call this willingness. Being willing to hold on to thoughts and feelings but not let them direct our actions. We may want to take on a new project at work and that little safety machine between our ears jumps in and say, “no then they might know you’re not up to it!” We may want to introduce ourselves to someone we want to get to know and fear chimes in, “but what are you going to say? You don’t have anything to say!” But we can make space for those thoughts, acknowledge them for what they are – likely stories we’ve had for a long time – and still pursue what is meaningful.
Rudyard Kipling put this idea best in his seminal poem If, “If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too.” He was talking about others doubts, but the same applies to our own doubts, fears, anxieties, questions, etc. We can still opt to pursue something meaningful, in this case faith, while making space for doubt. The truth of the matter is, we do it all the time.
In even the healthiest relationship there is always a mix of emotions. If you have the most wonderful marriage in the world, there are likely moments of anger, jealousy, annoyance, fear, and maybe even doubt. If we let those emotions and the various thoughts that perpetuate them drive us we would never be in any relationships. Thoughts and emotions are good indicators - we don’t want to ignore them - but they are lousy masters.
The Gospel, Doubt and the Human Heart
So what if we could make space for our doubts, questions and still pursue a relationship with God? What would that look like? The Gospel’s give us a powerful example.
In Mark’s Gospel we see a desperate father trying to find a cure for his son. This is something so relatable, and so feared, by any parent. The man’s son, we are told, is possessed by a demon who strikes him with convulsions. He is also unable to speak. What a terrifying spectacle for a parent. We also learn he has been this way from childhood imagine not only the suffering of the son, but the hopelessness and despair of the father. Worrisome days and agonizing nights. A lifetime of searching for help and a cure with no end in sight.
And like any father he seeks answers from the authorities. He does whatever he can. But the authorities don’t know what to do. Christ comes upon them arguing, likely arguing about what is best. Some likely saying it is hopeless.
As Jesus approaches, the crowd runs to Him, and the father explains his desperate predicament. The man, asks for pity – if there is anything Jesus could do. And Christ says to him that if he believes anything is possible. But how can the man be sure? There is no certitude. The authorities couldn’t help; even His own disciples couldn’t.
And in this space of doubt and fear, something profound happens. The man cries out in his agony, in the desperate love for his son “Lord, I believe help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24). His starting point was also a bet, a wager. He had tried everything - this was his last hope. And that was enough. Our Lord cured the boy. He met the father right in his fear of losing all he loved. Just as he reaches us where we are today.
This is the process of believing. It has to start somewhere. And that somewhere is never certitude.
Conclusion: Believing as a Doorway, Not a Destination
There are many door to faith—Pascal’s wager, the Stoics’ duty, or even the psychological benefits we’ve discussed. It could be a work of art, a thought-provoking book, a sunset, or even a word from a stranger. Because believing is more about opening the doorway to possibility, love and purpose. It is much less a destination than the start of a journey.
Believing in this sense, is also not belief in an object but in a Person. Or Persons to be specific- Father, Son and Holy Spirit. God, after all, IS relationship and invites us to take part. And He will try any and every way to send the invitation. Even in the rich, weathered voice of Johnny Cash.
And because belief is both a journey and a relationship it is bidirectional. When we think of it that way, maybe it’s less about you pursuing God. But more about recognizing that He has been pursuing you.
If Christianity is true than God is actually that poker player we discussed. In the ultimate poker game. And the pot, the winnings, the prize is you. He looked on from eternity and saw you. He saw you in all your brokenness, your weakness, your mistakes and your doubts. He also looked at what was at stake – you.
And in the most profound way He threw all his cards on the table on Cavalry Hill and went "all in" for you.
If the point of the Incarnation was God’s desire for relationship for us, than the point of the Crucifixion was God’s willingness to wager everything for sinners like you and me. That’s why He said, “I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” (John 10:11). No human shepherd would do that. In a herd of sheep a single one is not worth that much. But apparently to Him you and I are worth everything. The question is how do we respond?
We don’t need to have it all figured out to move forward in faith. Like the prodigal son, all it takes is one faltering step in hope—and suddenly the Father is running down the road to meet us and bring us home.
Peter Kreeft describes this so well in The Mystery of Joy. He writes:
“What is faith? It is not just thinking, a mental opinion. Nor is it a feeling. It is a free choice of the will. It is aided by good reasons, and is it is helped or harmed by feelings. But, like hope and love, it is not essentially either a thought or a feeling but a choice - they are difficult, because our contrary feelings are many and strong - but even a weak but honest faith, smaller than a grain of mustard seed, is precious to God our Father, as a toddler’s crude drawings are precious to his parents. And God will grow our faith: when we give Him an inch, He will take a mile. When we give him a tiny ember of faith, He will blow it up into a bonfire.”
So perhaps you’ve had a yearning for something more. Maybe this week take a small step forward. Dust off the Bible and read a few chapters (or get one if you don’t have one). Maybe go to church; if there’s no mass or services just sit in silence with no distractions. See what comes of it. You could take a few moments in the morning or evening and spend time in prayer (if you struggle with where to begin or what to say, check out the fantastic prayer app Hallow). The point is, He will meet you wherever you are on the road.
And if it comes to it, in an hour of darkness and desperation, amidst all your doubt and fears, if all you can muster is a forlorn “Lord I believe, help my unbelief!” He will certainly meet you on that road too.
