The play-turned-film Doubt has an impressive cast, a well-written script and impressive cinematography and score. Multiple viewings will still leave you scratching your head: Did he? Didn't he? The dueling of wits between Philip Seymour Hoffman and Meryl Streep sucks the viewer into to the sheer power of the argument and the clash of titanic forces, while the foil to both, Amy Adams, stands in for the audience, asking questions and challenging suppositions.

Father Brendan Flynn (Hoffman) opens the film, preaching a sermon on what it means to doubt, and of course drawing the ire of the starchy Sister Aloysius (Streep) who takes umbrage at everything, from poor posture to ballpoint pens. Flynn naturally attracts the students to him with his storytelling and sympathetic heart, while Aloysius sends them scatteringlike cockroaches from the scorching light. But Aloysius' concern supposedly stems from her belief that Flynn is the flame drawing in the moths, a dangerous attraction that results in the destruction of said moths. And, of course, stuck in between them is the younger Sister James (Adams) who naively alternates between clinging to Aloysius' accusations and Flynn's protestations.

Aloysius tells Adams that the Spartans once determined that the winner of an argument was the one who yelled the loudest, foreshadowing the confrontation between the nun and her priest. From my perspective, the two are drawn to a standstill on the question of Flynn's guilt, but the truth is that our certainty (and conversely our doubt) are made the focal point of this particular parable.

For this particular instance, homosexuality and child abuse become the topic of how this discussion of doubt and faith are played out. One of Flynn's proteges draws the attention of Sisters James and Aloysius but disconcertingly, the boy's mother (Viola Davis) proves to be more concerned with the homophobia of her husband than the potential sexual abuse of her son. Not only are we dealing with the questions of doubt and faith raised, but the impact of nature versus nurture, the issue of abuse within the church, the impact of abuse within the home, and the role that educators play in the raising of children inside and outside of the classroom.This movie is linear, even stark, but it is by no means simple.

You can't help but leave the film full of more questions than you had before, ranging from plot lines to metaphysics. Did Flynn really harm a child? What is Aloysius' mortal sin? How will James grow as a nun under the tutelage of Aloysius? These are simple compared to greater questions. If Flynn is guilty, how does the diocese's decision reflect on the church's own handling of sin and abuse? If Flynn is innocent, who is the most hurt in the occasion? Facing the loss of a leader and teacher due to accusations (or real abuse,) who fills the void left in the lives of the students?

Given the follow-up sermon by Flynn, I'm also left with questions about judging others. We're often clear on our own sin, but sometimes, we can perceive someone else's sin more definitively, and that's a shame. Aloysius has lost sight of what it means to be full of grace: it's tricky, because what if Flynn is reallya pedophile? But her blatant vendetta against him leaves you wondering how much her anger (and potentially, past hurt) and James' easy malleable soul led to the "verdict" that Aloysius' presents. Either way, the potential learning moment for the audience is one of tolerance and grace, more of a recognition that Jesus came into the world not to condemn it but to save it (John 3:17).

Doubt is so full of opportunities for discussion and crosswoven topics to explore that it's impossible to cover them all. Days after watching the parable, I'm left questioning my own motives and decision-making, wondering how we keep our own motives clear and our hearts pure. I think the answers lie in staying focused on the gospel of Jesus, and begging forgiveness and grace for each moment of our lives. By recognizing our own fears, faults and doubt, we'll enter into the conversation with the lives of others from a better place than we would have before.