A man living on a small but significant stretch of land in the Middle East was walking with a ragtag group of fellow Jews in what is now the Golan Heights. There, in the Roman city of Caesarea Philippi, surrounded by shrines dedicated to pagan gods, the man eyed his companions and asked a question, “Who do people say that I am?”
The men accompanying Jesus of Nazareth responded this way and that way before the most outspoken of the crew, a fisherman named Cephas, blurted out what he thought was the right answer to his rabbi’s question.
Christianity is a religion that raises more questions than it answers. Though theologians wax eloquent about the doctrines of the church, Christianity is a religion rooted in mystery. Its core beliefs—that God is three persons yet one nature, that Jesus is human yet divine, and that he rose from the dead three days after being murdered—begs for more explanation, more understanding, more clarity. If Christianity were a sentence, it would be followed by a question mark.