Rediscovering Christ: When Faith Loses Its Curiosity
Four years ago, our family moved from one of the most progressive states in the U.S. (Maryland) to one of the most conservative (Indiana). It’s been an unexpected missional journey.
As someone trying to live into a kind of “third way” of faith, I find myself constantly asking, in coaching conversations, spiritual care, and in building culture and organizations:
What does good news look like to this particular person, in this particular place, at this particular moment?
Over the past several months, I’ve been writing a series called Rediscovering Christ: Seeing Beyond Progressive and Conservative Worldviews.
Years ago in seminary, I studied ethnography, a practice of immersing yourself in a culture, listening deeply, and learning from within. In many ways, that’s what this season has been for me.
Since moving to Indiana, I’ve had more interactions with Evangelical Christians than in the previous 12 years or so of my life. And I’ve been paying attention.
This post is a reflection on what I would call some unintentional barriers within that world, not as criticism from the outside, but as observation from within.
Formation Shapes Us More Than We Realize
In many evangelical environments, people are formed, often unintentionally, into patterns like:
Certainty over curiosity
If truth is already fully known and clearly defined, curiosity can begin to feel unnecessary…or even risky.
And over time, that formation shows up in subtle ways.
I’ve noticed that many of the evangelical Christians I interact with are quick to share perspectives, but slow to ask questions. Not because they don’t care, but because curiosity hasn’t been cultivated as a core expression of faith.
Sometimes I’ll even play a quiet internal game:
How many questions can I ask before they ask me one?
Recently, I had a 15-minute conversation with an evangelical pastor. I asked eight questions. He asked me none. I left the conversation more tired than I expected.
When Answers Matter More Than Questions
In many spaces, faithfulness becomes closely tied to having the “right” beliefs. Curiosity, wonder, and exploration can take a back seat.
Evangelicals are often encouraged to “share their testimony” as a primary way of expressing faith. And while stories matter deeply, I’ve noticed something over the years: In 36 years of following Jesus, and 21 years as a pastor, I’ve never once had a non-Christian ask me to share my testimony.
But I have seen people open up when they feel seen, heard, and cared for. More often than not, people are longing for someone to ask about their story. Lately, I’ve been wondering if one of the most meaningful shifts we could make is simple:
Instead of leading with what we want to say, we begin with asking them for what they want to say. Instead of sharing our story first, we ask about theirs.
And when the moment feels right, instead of explaining…we pray.
“Can I pray for what you just shared?”
In that moment, we’re not just talking about God, we’re inviting someone into an experience of God. People don’t want to hear about God. They want to experience God.
When the Bible Becomes the Only Place to Look
I love the Bible. It has shaped my life in profound ways.
But I’ve also seen how a certain way of relating to the Bible can unintentionally limit curiosity.
If someone has been formed to believe:
The Bible contains all necessary answers in plain form
Their role is to apply, not explore
Interpretation is already settled
Then curiosity can begin to feel like:
Doubt
Disobedience
Or even disloyalty
I remember sitting in a small group a few years ago with a young woman who was wrestling with faith in a really honest way. Her Bible was open in front of her. As we asked questions to help her process, she kept looking down at the pages, as if the answer might appear if she stared long enough. It felt less like engagement…and more like pressure.
Not freedom to explore, but a quiet anxiety to find the “right” answer.
And I felt sadness, not because she loved the Bible, but because she had been taught that it was the only place she was allowed to look.
But the story of Scripture points us to a living God, one who is still present, still speaking, still guiding. As Jesus says, the Spirit is our guide into truth (John 16:13).
The Compounding Effect of Human Nature
Of course, some of this isn’t unique to evangelicals.
All of us, as humans:
Default to talking about ourselves
Fill silence to ease discomfort
Struggle to listen deeply
But when those tendencies are combined with a culture that:
Doesn’t train curiosity
Rewards speaking more than listening
Prioritizes certainty over exploration
It can create conversations that feel one-directional…and draining for the person on the other end.
The Way of Jesus Is Deeply Curious
What strikes me most is this:
The way of Jesus is deeply curious. Jesus asked questions. He paid attention to people’s stories. He responded uniquely, not formulaically. He didn’t rush to answers…he entered people’s worlds.
And yet, sometimes the communities centered on Jesus can drift into patterns that lose that curiosity.
I Have Hope in People, Just Not the System
I’m not losing faith in people. But I am finding myself questioning forms of faith that don’t seem very curious about people. And I wonder…
What if curiosity isn’t a threat to faith…but one of its clearest fruits?