Something on your mind that you can't find a good answer to?
I'll dig into it the same way I do everything here — honestly, with real sources, and without pretending the hard parts aren't hard.
Judas conspires to betray the Lord. Examine your own heart and draw closer to Christ.
Is It True?
We apply the same historical standards we use for any ancient claim: multiple independent sources, hostile witnesses, structural differences from cult narratives - and honest limits.

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Vatican II says Muslims worship the same God. The Quran names Jesus and Mary. We hold the genuine overlap and the genuine disagreement without flinching at either.

The Church does not condemn those who never heard the Gospel. We trace the tradition from Justin Martyr to Vatican II and find surprising mercy - and honest complexity.
I'll dig into it the same way I do everything here — honestly, with real sources, and without pretending the hard parts aren't hard.
Your suspicion is a healthy starting point, not an obstacle. The Resurrection claim differs from cult claims in measurable, structural ways: it traces to multiple independent eyewitnesses within years of the event, arose in a hostile environment where opponents could have easily disproved it, and produced conversions in people - a persecutor and a skeptic - with no psychological motive to hallucinate. The clinical science on group hallucinations doesn't support the "mass psychosis" explanation. Whether any of this proves a miracle depends on worldview commitments that history alone cannot settle - even sympathetic scholars say so plainly.
What you can say with confidence: sincere experiences happened, the tomb was empty, and the standard dismissals have serious problems. That is a different thing from saying the case is airtight. Some skeptical positions - particularly the methodological objection that history cannot adjudicate miraculous claims - are genuinely strong. This is an honest question that deserves an honest answer, not a clean victory for either side.
There's a reason Bart Ehrman - an agnostic who does not believe in the Resurrection - still acknowledges that some of Jesus' earliest followers had experiences that convinced them he had risen from the dead. He isn't conceding the miracle. He's conceding the evidence is real. That's a significant thing to concede, and it's where any honest assessment of this question has to begin.
The mental illness analogy fails on specifics. Hallucinations are private neurological events; they cannot be simultaneously shared by groups of people who are, by the Gospels' own account, frightened and doubtful, not expectant and exalted. And cults look nothing like the early Christian movement: no living charismatic leader, a falsifiable claim made in the city where the death occurred, and a counter-narrative from opponents that assumed the tomb was empty.
None of this compels belief. But it does mean the question deserves a more precise answer than "people believe impossible things."
The instinct behind your question is sound. The 20th century gave us a parade of figures who announced direct access to the divine - Jim Jones, David Koresh, Marshall Applewhite - and destroyed people in the process. You've watched sincere, intelligent people get swept into movements built on charisma and emotional need rather than evidence. Of course you pattern-match. Pattern-matching is how humans survive epistemically in a world full of frauds.
The problem is that pattern-matching is a heuristic, not a tool. It works well in familiar territory. When the shape of a claim resembles something you've already categorized, your brain files it accordingly. "Resurrection from the dead" gets filed near "aliens told me to drink cyanide-laced Kool-Aid," and the filing feels right because both sit in the same cabinet labeled Extraordinary Religious Claims.
But the file cabinet is the wrong frame.
What you actually want to do - what the question underneath your question is really asking - is evaluate a specific historical claim using the same methods you'd use for any other. Was Julius Caesar assassinated? Did the Holocaust happen? You don't answer those questions by checking whether they feel supernatural. You check sources: how close to the event, how many, how independent, what do hostile witnesses say, what motive would people have to lie.
Apply that method to the Resurrection claim and something interesting happens. You don't get proof. But you don't get dismissal either. What you get is a messy, honest engagement with some genuinely surprising evidence - and an encounter with serious scholars across the belief spectrum who cannot agree on what to do with it.
That's where the real conversation begins.
There's also a second layer worth naming directly: Am I being gullible if I take this seriously? Reasonable fear. Intelligent people have been manipulated by religious claims. The answer isn't reassurance - it's precision. Gullibility is pattern-matched credulity. The opposite of gullibility isn't dismissal; it's actually looking.
Catholic faith holds the Resurrection as its central and non-negotiable truth. The Catechism of the Catholic Church calls it "the crowning truth of our faith in Christ, a faith believed and lived as the central truth by the first Christian community" (CCC 638). Not a symbolic claim. Not a spiritual metaphor. A bodily event with historical witnesses.
The Nicene Creed professed at every Catholic Mass states: "On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures." A brief note on dating: the creed originally formulated at the Council of Nicaea in 325 was expanded at the Council of Constantinople in 381 - the Niceno-Constantinopolitan form, which is what Catholics actually pray. The Apostles' Creed says simply: "The third day he rose again from the dead." These are binding dogma - not optional interpretations, not devotional poetry.
The Catechism distinguishes the Resurrection from resuscitation (Lazarus came back to die again; Jesus did not), and is equally clear that the risen body is the same body: "the same body that had been tortured and crucified" (CCC 645), bearing the marks of the Passion, yet transformed - capable of appearing through locked doors, unrecognized by Mary Magdalene until he speaks.
CCC 647 describes the Resurrection as "an historical event that could be verified by the sign of the empty tomb and by the reality of the apostles' encounters with the risen Christ," yet "something that transcends and surpasses history." The Catechism does not ask you to treat it as purely private or merely interior. It insists the event was real, occurred in space and time, and left detectable historical traces.
The oldest document referencing the Resurrection is not the Gospels. It's Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, written around AD 55. In chapter 15, verses 3–7, Paul quotes what is clearly a pre-existing creed:
"For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles."
The phrase "I received... I delivered" is the standard rabbinic formula for handing on received tradition. Paul isn't composing this; he's transmitting it.
How old is the creed? Most scholars - including those with no stake in defending Christianity - date it to within two to five years of the crucifixion. Gerd Lüdemann, an atheist scholar at the University of Göttingen, put it as clearly as anyone: "the elements in the tradition are to be dated to the first two years after the crucifixion of Jesus... not later than three years." [Lüdemann, The Resurrection of Jesus, 1994, pp. 171–72]
Two to three years. Not two centuries. Within the lifetimes of named witnesses Paul says are still alive and available for questioning.
If this were the Shroud of Turin - a relic that appeared in France thirteen centuries after the crucifixion - skepticism would be proportionate. But a creed dated to AD 32–35, when Peter and James and hundreds of others were still walking around Jerusalem? That's a different category of claim.
Historian Gary Habermas (Liberty University) spent decades surveying academic literature on the Resurrection, reviewing over 3,400 scholarly sources in French, German, and English published since 1975. The survey identified facts that, in his review, were accepted across the spectrum of scholarship - including skeptics.
This work is influential. It is also criticized. The underlying data has never been fully published; critics note that without access to the methodology, the percentages cannot be independently verified. Habermas's survey was a literature review, not a poll - he assessed the positions of scholars based on what they published, and there is no complete public dataset to audit. These are legitimate methodological concerns, and anyone relying on the "75% of scholars" figure should know they are citing an unpublished survey from a confessionally motivated institution.
That said: the criticism is methodological, not evidential. The facts themselves are attested across independent scholarly literature, and even critics who dispute Habermas's percentages tend to accept the core claims on independent grounds.
Five facts have near-universal support even in explicitly secular scholarship:
| Fact | Status |
|---|---|
| Jesus died by crucifixion | Near universal |
| Disciples had experiences they believed were appearances of the risen Jesus | Near universal |
| Paul (active persecutor) was suddenly converted | Near universal |
| James (skeptic, Jesus' brother) was suddenly converted | Near universal |
| Empty tomb | Widely affirmed; Habermas estimates ~75%, though this figure is from the same unaudited survey |
The empty tomb deserves a separate note. Three independent lines of evidence support it: the consistent Gospel accounts, Paul's implicit assumption in 1 Corinthians 15 (he wouldn't make a "resurrection" argument to a Jewish audience with the body still present), and - critically - the oldest Jewish counter-narrative, which doesn't deny the tomb was empty but claims the body was stolen. You don't argue about where a body went if it was never missing.
What remains genuinely disputed is the interpretation of these facts - but that's a different debate than the one your question poses.
E.P. Sanders, professor emeritus at Duke University and explicitly not a confessional Christian, wrote in The Historical Figure of Jesus (1993): "That Jesus' followers (and later Paul) had resurrection experiences is, in my judgment, a fact. What the reality was that gave rise to the experiences I do not know."
Ehrman's position is more nuanced and worth quoting carefully. His objection is not that the evidence is weak. It is that historical method, by its nature, cannot adjudicate supernatural claims. As Ehrman argues in How Jesus Became God (2014), even if miracles are possible, a historian confined to the ordinary canons of historical evidence has no way to establish that one has occurred.
That's a methodological claim, not an evidential one. Ehrman is not saying the evidence is thin. He's saying his methodology has a built-in limitation when it comes to miracles. You might agree with that limitation - in which case the historical evidence can take you only so far - or you might think it begs the question by defining miracles out of the historian's toolkit before the inquiry begins. That second option isn't anti-intellectual; it's a real philosophical objection to a real philosophical constraint. Either way, notice that his objection is philosophical, not empirical.
Dale Allison, Richard J. Dearborn Professor of New Testament at Princeton Theological Seminary, is himself a Christian who writes with unusual honesty: "purely historical evidence is not so good as to make disbelief unreasonable, and it is not so bad as to make faith untenable." [Allison, The Resurrection of Jesus: Apologetics, Polemics, History, T&T Clark, 2021]
That is about as fair a summary as you will find. The evidence is real. The interpretation is contested. Faith is not irrational, but neither is doubt.
Before mapping the disagreements, a word on taxonomy. Catholic teaching has tiers, and conflating them produces confusion:
Tier 1: Dogma - Non-negotiable. Defined by Scripture, Tradition, and the ordinary universal Magisterium. Denial places you outside Catholic orthodoxy.
Tier 2: Doctrine - Authoritative teaching requiring religious assent, with room for theological development in understanding.
Tier 3: Theological Opinion - Legitimate debate among qualified scholars within the Church.
The bodily Resurrection is Tier 1 dogma. Full stop. The Nicene Creed, the Apostles' Creed, and the Catechism are unambiguous. A "spiritual resurrection" that leaves Jesus' body in the tomb is not Catholic Christianity; it is a different religion with similar vocabulary.
Where genuine Catholic disagreement exists:
The empty tomb as evidence. CCC 640 calls the empty tomb "an essential sign" of the Resurrection but notes it is "not a direct proof." A minority of Catholic theologians have explored whether "bodily resurrection" could be understood in ways that don't require an empty tomb; this position is in serious tension with the Catechism and has drawn criticism from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.
The nature of the glorified body. CCC 645 affirms the risen body could be touched, ate fish, and bore the wounds of the Passion - but also appeared through locked doors and was not always immediately recognized. How to understand this theologically is genuinely debated. N.T. Wright, Senior Research Fellow at Wycliffe Hall, Oxford, argues in The Resurrection of the Son of God (2003) that "resurrection" in first-century Jewish thought always meant bodily, physical transformation - never a purely spiritual state.
How much historical evidence can prove. Scholars like Habermas and Licona argue the historical evidence, evaluated by normal historiographical standards, makes bodily resurrection the best explanation. Scholars like Allison and Ehrman agree the evidence is real but draw different lines on what historians can or should conclude from it. Crucially, this is not a fight between believers and skeptics. Allison believes and thinks the evidence underdetermines. Ehrman doesn't believe and agrees the testimonial record is solid. Both are engaging the actual evidence.
Reducing the Resurrection to "the disciples' transformed consciousness" - approaches associated with theologians like Edward Schillebeeckx - drew scrutiny from the Vatican. The Church insists that "resurrection" means something specific and concrete, not a rebrand for "they felt really inspired by his memory."
The question is not: Have religious visions ever been psychopathological? They have. The question is: Does the psychopathological explanation fit this specific evidence?
Here's what the clinical and historical evidence actually shows.
Hallucinations are neurological events. They occur within individual brains due to misfiring of the processes that distinguish self-generated thought from external reality - a failure of what psychiatrists call "metacognitive skills involved in discriminating between self-generated and external sources of information" (Schizophrenia Bulletin, 43/1, 2017).
Private. Individual. Two people cannot share the same hallucination for the same reason two people cannot share the same dream - different neural substrates, different brains.
The 1 Corinthians 15 creed lists appearances to groups: the Twelve together, then five hundred people at once. Whatever happened, "simultaneous identical hallucination in five hundred separate human nervous systems" is not a clinical description of anything in the peer-reviewed literature. Lüdemann, who proposed the hallucination theory, called the five-hundred appearance "an incomparable chain reaction of shared hallucinatory fantasy." The word incomparable is doing enormous work there. It means: unlike anything else ever documented in clinical psychology.
Zusne and Jones, in Anomalistic Psychology (2nd ed., 1989), identified expectation and emotional excitement as prerequisites for group suggestibility experiences. The Gospels describe something structurally opposite: despairing disciples, locked doors, Thomas demanding physical proof. CCC 643 notes this directly: "Far from showing us a community seized by a mystical exaltation, the Gospels present us with disciples demoralized ('looking sad') and frightened."
Before continuing with the hallucination critique, an honest admission is warranted - and I mean genuinely honest, not the kind of concession apologists make while already loading the counterargument. The five-hundred-person appearance is the hardest element in 1 Corinthians 15 to assess. Paul mentions it but no other early source corroborates it independently. No Gospel records it. No non-Pauline epistle references it. Paul says "most of them are still alive" - an implicit invitation to verify - but we have no record of anyone taking him up on it.
This is a genuine problem for the Christian case. The minimal facts argument draws heavily on 1 Corinthians 15 as a document with multiple witnesses, but the five-hundred appearance is attested only by Paul, and Paul received it secondhand through the creed. The experiences of Peter, James, and Paul himself rest on better independent foundations. The five hundred, while ancient in the creed, sits on a thinner evidential base.
A careful apologist will not over-lean on the five hundred. The case doesn't need it.
Grief-induced hallucinations are real and documented. They occur in bereaved individuals who miss someone. Paul - the Saul of Tarsus who spent his career hunting Christians, who by his own account gave his approval to the killing of Stephen (Acts 8:1), who was, let's be clear, not a grieving admirer of Jesus but an active agent of destruction against his movement - had no grief motive. He did not love Jesus. He was in the process of dismantling the movement when he had his encounter.
There is no clinical framework in which an active persecutor of a religious group hallucinates an appearance by the founder of that group and immediately joins it, then spends the rest of his life enduring imprisonment, beatings, and eventual execution rather than recanting.
Lüdemann's explanation for Paul - "unconscious attraction to Christianity plus guilt over persecution" - requires speculative psychoanalysis of a first-century person based on no contemporaneous psychological data. Martin Hengel of Tübingen University argued that Lüdemann's approach exceeded the boundaries of responsible historical inquiry - applying psychological models to an ancient figure's unverifiable inner life.
James, Jesus' own brother, thought Jesus was out of his mind during the ministry (Mark 3:21; John 7:5). He was a skeptic who did not follow Jesus in his lifetime. After the crucifixion, he had no reason to hallucinate a risen brother, become the leader of the Jerusalem church, and hold that position until he was stoned to death around AD 62 - a death confirmed by Josephus in Antiquities 20.9.1, a non-Christian source.
What produces radical conversion in a skeptic who watched his brother die? The hallucination hypothesis has no account for this that isn't circular.
The hallucination hypothesis carries a load-bearing assumption: the disciples experienced subjective visions while the body remained in the tomb. The empty tomb evidence puts serious pressure on this.
The oldest Jewish polemic against the Resurrection (Matthew 28:12–15) does not deny the tomb was empty - it accuses the disciples of stealing the body. Enemy corroboration. The opponents of the movement assumed, and publicly stated, that the tomb was empty. Their argument was about why, not whether.
If the body were still there, the authorities had every motive and full capability to produce it and end the movement in an afternoon. A coherent hallucination hypothesis must simultaneously reject the empty tomb, explain why hostile authorities never produced the body, and account for why the movement's own opponents chose "they stole it" rather than "it was never missing."
The question your question is actually asking includes a third option that neither "hallucination" nor "bodily resurrection" covers: sincere but distorted memory over time. Human memory is unreliable. Oral traditions accumulate legend. Maybe something real happened - an experience the disciples genuinely had - that got elaborated, reshaped, and amplified in the telling over decades until the bodily resurrection account we have bears only a family resemblance to whatever occurred.
This is a serious position. It's not the same as calling the disciples liars or lunatics. It's the observation that sincere people misremember, that communities reshape their founding stories, and that the Gospels were written decades after the events. Social memory theory - associated with scholars like Maurice Halbwachs and more recently applied to early Christianity - holds that collective memory is always partly reconstruction, shaped by community needs and theological interpretation.
Allison himself, writing in earlier work on the historical Jesus, wrestles honestly with this: the most we can often say about a tradition is that something happened that gave rise to it, while acknowledging that the precise contours have been smoothed by transmission.
Here is where the early creed matters most. The 1 Corinthians 15 creed, dated to within two to five years of the crucifixion, is not a Gospel tradition that passed through four decades of oral transmission. It's a formula Paul received, probably from Peter and James directly, within a few years of the events. Memory distortion is a real process, but it operates over time. Two years is not much time. The creed doesn't eliminate the possibility of distortion, but it dramatically compresses the window in which it could occur.
The question is whether the gap between "something real happened" and "bodily resurrection" can be bridged by two-to-five years of transmission, by a community that had every incentive to be precise about its core claim, and among witnesses - Peter, James, the twelve - who were personally invested in getting it right because they were staking their lives on it. That's not a settled question. But it does mean the memory-distortion argument works better against the Gospels than against the creed.
There is a position that doesn't fit neatly into "hallucination" or "bodily resurrection," and it deserves to be named rather than ignored.
Both Allison and E.P. Sanders, from their different perspectives, gesture toward something like this: something extraordinary happened that we cannot fully explain, and the disciples interpreted it through the theological lens available to them - first-century Jewish resurrection theology - in a way that produced the accounts we have. Not a grief vision. Not a fabrication. Something that broke ordinary categories and got expressed in the only framework that could contain it.
Sanders: "I do not know what the reality was that gave rise to the experiences."
Allison, more expansive, notes that the visionary experiences reported in 1 Corinthians 15 are so diverse in character - individual visions, group appearances, an appearance to a persecutor - that they resist reduction to any single psychological or social explanation. He remains open, as a believer, to the bodily resurrection. But he holds that openness with both hands, not with certainty.
This third option is not a cop-out. It's the honest position of some of the most rigorous scholars who have studied this question. If you find yourself there - unable to accept the bodily resurrection but also unable to dismiss what happened as mere hallucination - you're in good company with serious scholars who have spent careers thinking about this.
William Lane Craig's challenge to Lüdemann centers on what he calls the diversity problem. The appearances in 1 Corinthians 15 span:
A single individual (Peter), then a group of twelve, then a disputed crowd of five hundred (with the evidentiary caveat noted above), then another individual with a documented skeptical background (James), then a persecutor (Paul). Different times, different locations, over a period of weeks.
Craig: "There is not a single instance in the casebooks exhibiting the diversity involved in the postmortem appearances of Jesus." This isn't rhetoric - it's a clinical observation. Hallucination waves don't move from a grieving inner disciple to simultaneous observers to a hostile persecutor to a skeptical family member. The cases that drive Lüdemann's hypothesis are individual, grief-adjacent, and psychologically proximate to the deceased. The 1 Corinthians 15 list is none of those things across the board.
The pattern-matching to "cult" deserves actual scrutiny rather than a blanket rejection.
The founder of Christianity was publicly, verifiably, officially executed by Rome. His followers claimed to have seen him afterward. That is a structurally different claim from "our leader says God spoke to him" - which is what actual cult founders say. Cults have a living charismatic leader at the center. The early Christian movement was organized around a dead man who was claimed to have returned, and organized in Jerusalem within weeks of his execution, among people who could check. This is the opposite of the information control and geographic isolation that characterizes the group dynamics researchers associate with cult behavior.
There's something else worth noting. Early Christianity circulated its texts publicly, engaged Greco-Roman intellectual culture openly (Paul debating philosophers at the Areopagus in Athens, Acts 17), and the claim it made - a named man, executed in a specific place, seen alive by named witnesses in a tomb that was now empty - was falsifiable by any hostile party who could produce a body. The movement's opponents could not. What they did instead was argue about where the body went.
That said: the cult comparison isn't worthless. Some early Christian communities had dynamics that look uncomfortable from a modern sociological standpoint. The communities in Corinth, based on Paul's own letters, had serious internal conflicts, charismatic authority disputes, and problems with boundary maintenance. The cult comparison fails at the founding event level - the specific historical claim of the Resurrection - but it doesn't mean early Christianity was uniformly healthy or immune to human pathology.
The "die for a lie" argument gets stated badly and deserves a precise version. The point is not that people die for beliefs - they do, and that proves nothing about truth. The point is narrower: the original eyewitness claimants, who would have known whether they were making it up, chose death rather than recant. Heaven's Gate members genuinely believed what Applewhite told them; they were not eyewitnesses to anything. Peter, James, Paul - these were men who claimed direct firsthand experience and suffered for it. If they fabricated it, they knew they had fabricated it. People do not, as a documented psychological pattern, die for causes they privately know to be false.
This is the elephant in the room. If the historical case for the Resurrection is as strong as apologists claim, why do most historians - including many who accept the minimal facts - remain unconvinced?
Ehrman's methodological objection is the clearest answer. Historians operate within a framework that assigns probabilities to past events based on analogy with present experience. Miracles are, by definition, violations of ordinary regularities. Whatever probability you assign to a first-century Jewish resurrection, the historian's toolkit assigns it a very low prior - because resurrections don't happen, as a matter of ordinary experience. The evidence for the empty tomb and the post-mortem appearances would have to be extraordinarily strong to overcome that prior. And the evidence, while real, is not independent, not contemporaneous in the documentary sense, and not unambiguous.
That's not the same as saying the evidence is fabricated. Ehrman accepts the minimal facts. He just thinks the methodological framework for historical inquiry can't bridge the gap between "something happened" and "a first-century Jewish man physically rose from the dead."
You might agree with that framing - in which case the question of the Resurrection is genuinely outside what historical argument can settle, and faith becomes a different kind of commitment. Or you might think Ehrman's methodology is systematically biased against miracles in a way that makes it a self-fulfilling prophecy: if you define historical method as "reasoning by analogy with ordinary experience," you have preemptively ruled out any event that is extraordinary by definition. That's not a trivial objection. It's the kind of thing philosophers of history actually argue about.
There is also the question of worldview priors. Historians who already inhabit a broadly materialist framework will find naturalistic explanations more plausible - not because the evidence demands it, but because those explanations fit better with everything else they believe about reality. Historians who are already theists will find resurrection more credible, not because they're being credulous, but because they've already decided the universe is the kind of place where such things are possible. Allison's calibration - "the evidence is not so good as to make disbelief unreasonable, not so bad as to make faith untenable" - is not a dodge. It's an accurate description of a genuine epistemic situation where what you already believe about the nature of reality shapes what the evidence can prove.
This is why the Resurrection question cannot be finally settled by historical argument alone. It runs all the way down to prior commitments about what kind of world we're living in.
None of this compels belief. The point is that the dismissal - "it's religious distortion" or "it's mass psychosis" - doesn't survive contact with the specific evidence. If you're going to reject the Resurrection, you should do it for honest reasons, not pattern-matched ones. And if you find yourself less certain of the dismissal than you were before you started reading - well, that's also a legitimate place to land.
A few concrete next steps:
Read a skeptic who takes it seriously. Bart Ehrman's How Jesus Became God (HarperOne, 2014) is written by an agnostic New Testament scholar who respects the evidence. He doesn't conclude resurrection, but he doesn't dismiss it cheaply either. His methodological objection is the best-informed version of the skeptical case.
Read Dale Allison's The Resurrection of Jesus: Apologetics, Polemics, History (T&T Clark, 2021). A Princeton theologian who believes but writes with unusual candor: "I do not know what happened. I only know that something happened." He will not flatter your skepticism or your faith; he'll make you think harder about both.
Read N.T. Wright's The Resurrection of the Son of God (Fortress, 2003) if you want the heavyweight historical case. Long - 800 pages - but the first 200 establish what "resurrection" meant in first-century Jewish and Greco-Roman contexts. This matters because the claim has a specific meaning in its historical setting that popular discussion almost always distorts.
Sit with the Allison calibration. The evidence is not so good as to make disbelief unreasonable. It is not so bad as to make faith untenable. If you can hold the question genuinely open - not closed by either faith or dismissal - you're in a better epistemic position than most people on either side of this debate.
If you find yourself drawn toward faith rather than just the intellectual question, that's a different kind of next step. Start small. Find a parish where you can sit in the back. Nobody will make you do anything.
If this question has moved from intellectual to personal - if you're considering Catholicism, or returning after time away - two resources through CatholicIndex may help:
Neither requires commitment. Walking into a church is not a binding contract.
Primary Sources
Scholarly Works
Magisterial Documents
On Historical Methodology