One of my favorite parts of the liturgy — which I don’t recite very often, since we go to a Baptist Church — is the Mystery of Faith:
Christ has died.
Christ is risen.
Christ will come again.
On Easter Sunday especially, the Mystery of Faith resonates with me. I think it’s aptly named, i.e., that the basis of our faith is ultimately mysterious and beyond human comprehension. To the worldly wise it is a foolish thing that confounds them; to those of us who are not so wise it can be a confusing thing, difficult to understand and harder to put into practice.
I don’t understand it — neither the mechanisms of the miracles nor the depths of such sacrificial love — and because I don’t understand it, of all the disciples I relate most to Peter the denier and Thomas the doubter.
To me it is, and probably always will be, a mystery.
by 
