God & I: Dr. Jacob Imam

YOU GREW up in a Muslim family. What role did faith play in your childhood?

My father was born inside the ancient walls of Jerusalem, into a family with a long religious legacy. His grandfather served as imam of Al Aqsa Mosque, one of Islam’s holiest sites, and his father was the mufti of Jerusalem, a respected scholar of Islamic law. So my father’s roots were in a faith that carried immense authority, even if his immediate family wasn’t clerical.
When war broke out, my parents faced a defining choice. My mother was American, born and raised in Michigan. Because of her citizenship, she arranged a green card for my father, allowing them to leave Jerusalem and start anew in the United States. It was a turning point for their family and for how my father understood his faith.

In Islamic societies, divine law governs public and private life. Moving to America, my father found himself in a culture where law was secular and religion privatized. For a devout Muslim, that meant faith could no longer be fully lived in public. Over time, my father became more liberal – not less religious in belief, but increasingly shaped by liberalism. The free market, economic priorities, and individual choice became guiding principles.

He still affirmed Islam’s doctrines, but in practice, economic liberalism became his conviction. My mother converted to Protestant Christianity before I was born. So my childhood was marked by both traditions: a father whose Muslim heritage had given way to liberal ideals, and a mother who lived out her Protestant faith.

When did you first feel drawn to Christianity yourself?

It happened in my mid-teens, around age 14. Like many teenagers, I felt the weight of questions larger than myself. I sensed a deep discord between the way I was living and the way the world ought to be. It wasn’t just about my choices; it felt cosmic – a fracture running through human existence. Looking back, I would describe that realization as an encounter with the doctrine of sin.

At first, I turned to my father’s God. But as I prayed and reflected, I struggled to believe that Allah, as portrayed in the Quran, would have tolerated humanity’s disobedience so long, or created a world destined to rebel. That conviction made it hard to rest in Islam as a spiritual home.

So I turned to my mother’s God. In Scripture I found a more compelling story: a God who created the world knowing its weakness, and who not only endured human disobedience, but entered into it, suffered with it, and redeemed it. That insight changed everything. By 15 I asked to be baptized. At that time, I didn’t know any Catholics, so I entered the Protestant Church. But the seed of a deeper search had been planted.

Was there a moment when you felt God calling you to Catholicism?

There was a pivotal conversation. I was in a café in Redmond, Washington – fittingly, the home of Microsoft. At the time, I was an Orthodox catechumen, though restless and searching. I sat with a friend who was then Anglican, but also exploring the Catholic faith.

I told him Orthodoxy appealed to me because it preserved the worship and theology of the early Church Fathers. He agreed, but then asked, “What happens when the patristic era ends? When the Church moves from persecution to social acceptance? When it is no longer an underground Church? The Church must adapt to sanctify the world in new circumstances. That requires a living authority, a development of doctrine, a voice inspired by God.”

That insight shook me. Orthodoxy preserved the past beautifully, but I realized Catholicism carried the future as well: a Spirit-led authority capable of meeting history’s challenges. That moment reoriented my search. Soon after, I asked to become a Catholic catechumen.

You became close with Walter Hooper, the secretary of C.S. Lewis. How did he influence your journey into the Catholic faith?

Meeting Walter was one of the great blessings of my life. I first encountered him shortly after arriving in Oxford. I landed on a Thursday, and the next day wandered through the city, marveling at its “dreaming spires.” Passing a church, I noticed a plaque: John Henry Newman had preached there, Gerard Manley Hopkins had served as curate, and J.R.R. Tolkien had been a parishioner. I thought, “If this parish was good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.”

The following morning, I attended Mass there. Afterwards, I looked for someone in a collar, hoping to continue my catechesis. I approached a man speaking with an older gentleman. When I asked for a priest, the older man chuckled, “He’s not a priest – he’s the bishop.” I was too new to Catholicism to know the difference. The bishop then pointed to the older man, “This is the man of Oxford; this is Walter Hooper.”

I could hardly believe my luck. Within 5036 hours of arriving, I had met both a bishop and the personal secretary of C.S. Lewis. Walter was thrilled to hear I was a catechumen. He immediately took me under his wing – buying prayer books, teaching me how to use them, urging me to attend Mass, and walking with me until I was received into the Church.

What struck me most was not just his instruction, but his joy. Walter embodied the delight of being Catholic: the peace of receiving the sacraments, the wonder of prayer, the gratitude of belonging to a Church that gives much before it demands much in return. His mentorship gave me not only knowledge, but also a taste of Catholic life as something luminous and joyful.

You studied theology and economics at Oxford. How did that shape your view of the world?

Profoundly. I studied theology to deepen my understanding as a new Catholic, and economics because the Church rarely addresses it, even though it shapes modern life. While Catholics often focus on sexuality and family, financial and economic questions are equally pressing yet largely ignored today.

This led me to ask whether the Church should offer concrete guidance on economic life, as it did in earlier generations. I also came to see the laity’s vocation more clearly: laypeople are called to sanctify the temporal order – politics, economics, culture, and family – transforming them from within. That insight has guided much of my work since Oxford.

Many people see a divide between working with the mind and working with the hands. Do you think they belong together?

I do. God placed both on the same body for a reason. The supposed divide between intellectual and manual labor is a false dichotomy.

Medieval thinkers categorized human endeavor into four arts: theological (contemplating God), liberal (the humanities), practical (politics and economics), and manual (crafts, farming, trades). Together they form a complete picture of human life. Take building a cabin. It begins in the mind as an idea, then requires planning, geometry, and logistics. Only then does it move to the hands – measuring, cutting, assembling. Throughout, you’re guided by an awareness of beauty, proportion, and function. Manual work is not brute force; it is infused with contemplation.
Work with the hands disciplines the mind, while intellectual clarity shapes craftsmanship. When we divide the two, we impoverish both.

What inspired you to found the College of St. Joseph the Worker?

The immediate inspiration was student debt. In America, nearly every young person is encouraged to attend college, often at enormous cost. The average private-college graduate leaves with around $35,000 in debt – a heavy burden for someone just starting life.

Some suggest abandoning universities altogether, seeing them all as ideologically suspect or economically exploitative. I disagree. Universities were a Catholic invention, designed to train priests and lay leaders to engage the world thoughtfully. The solution is not abandonment, but renewal.

Not everyone should attend university, but for those with intellectual promise, education should be excellent and accessible. That belief led me to found the College of St. Joseph the Worker: to provide rigorous education without crippling debt, and to form students who integrate intellectual learning with practical skills.

How is your college different from other Catholic colleges?

Our college combines rigorous academics with skilled trades training, allowing students to earn a bachelor’s degree and a journeyman’s card while graduating debt-free. We form students who unite intellectual growth with practical skills, seeing both study and work as ways to serve God and sanctify the world.

Have your students already made a difference locally?

Yes. We are in a rust-belt town once driven by mills and mines, now decimated by industrial decline. Eighty percent of downtown is boarded up. Some buildings are literally collapsing.

We Our students have begun purchasing and restoring these historic structures, giving them new life and purpose. Already the community feels a renewed sense of hope. Where people once avoided downtown, there is now excitement about its revival.

After your journey from Islam to Catholicism, who is God for you today?

My vision of God is not unique, nor should it be. I have simply fallen in love with the Holy Trinity, with Jesus Christ, true God and true Man. Like a father with each of his children, Christ calls each of us in ways that are deeply personal. For me, that call has meant discovering the sanctifying power of work – how labor, both intellectual and manual, can be a path to holiness.

How does family life shape your faith and work?

My wife Alice and I have three young boys, with a fourth on the way. We live on a small homestead with chickens, ducks, cows, and bees. Life here is full of real work, which has been a blessing for our family.

When I give my sons chores, they aren’t artificial – they’re necessary. This creates a real relationship of dependence: I need them, and they come through. That binds us together.

Friendship and family aren’t just the “cherry on top” of life – they are the foundation of joy. Family has taught me the sweetness of necessity: true bonds form when we rely on one another in tangible ways.

How do you keep prayer alive in daily life?

As a family, we pray the Liturgy of the Hours, giving rhythm and anchoring our day in prayer. I’m also blessed to work just steps from a chapel with the Eucharist, making it easy to pause throughout the day.

For me, prayer isn’t about extraordinary moments – it’s about weaving constant communion with Christ into daily life. Mental prayer before the Eucharist has become the steady joy of my days.

Do you have a devotion to St. Anthony of Padua?

Very much so. During my master’s studies at Oxford, I was at St. Anthony’s College, and I often turned to him for guidance. I also had the privilege of visiting Lisbon, his birthplace, and venerating the site of his birth.

My research at the time examined how biblical material, particularly the Annunciation, was received in the Quranic tradition. St. Anthony, who is often depicted holding the Child Jesus, became for me an icon of the mystery of God’s Incarnation – a mystery central to both my studies and my faith. I believe God gave me the right patron for that season, and I remain deeply grateful to this saint.

JACOB IMAM is the Founder and President of the College of St. Joseph the Worker in Steubenville, Ohio. Born into a Muslim family, he converted to Catholicism under the guidance of his godfather, Walter Hooper, C.S. Lewis’s personal secretary.

Dr. Imam earned a master’s and doctorate from the University of Oxford as a Marshall Scholar, focusing his dissertation on theology and economics. He speaks and writes on politics, economics, and education, appearing on platforms like Pints with Aquinas and Fox News.

His vision for the college merges rigorous Catholic liberal arts education with skilled trades training, forming graduates who are intellectually adept, spiritually grounded, and financially secure. He emphasizes the dignity of manual labor and the harmony of intellectual and practical skills. Dr. Imam lives in Steubenville with his wife, Alice, and their three young children.